My stomach knots again.
I’m in so much trouble. My vision is getting blurry now.
“Saramaria!”
I turn to see Pearl and Dot running to me. The last thing I hear is one of them screaming the word, “Fuck.”
Boone
I’m standing near the new barn foundation, talking to the contractor Rhett hired. He’s a local guy, a weather-beaten Beta named Miller who knows his way around a post-hole digger better than he knows his own wife.
We’re discussing the lumber delivery for the roof repair. It’s technical, boring stuff, but it needs to be done.
Rhett walks out of the house. He moves with a stiff urgency, his face drained of color.
I nod at Miller. “Give us a minute.”
Miller tips his hat and wanders toward his truck, wiping his hands on a rag.
Rhett stops in front of me. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“What is it?” I ask. The knot in my gut tightens instantly.
“That was Pearl,” Rhett says. His voice is tight. “They’re taking Saramaria to the clinic.”
My heart stops. “The clinic? Is she hurt? Did she fall?”
“She missed her shot,” Rhett says.
I blink. “What?”
“The suppressant,” he says. “She missed the appointment. The email got buried in everything else. Pearl and Dot took her to see the doctor. Saramaria is already showing symptoms.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Missed shot. Symptoms.
“She’s going into heat,” I say. The realization is a cold shock.
“Yes,” Rhett says. “And she’s scared.”
“We have to go,” I say immediately. I turn toward the truck.
“Boone,” Rhett says, grabbing my arm. “Think about this. If she’s in heat... and we take her home...”
“What? We keep her safe,” I snap, pulling my arm free. “We lock the gates. We don’t let anyone near her.”
“We live with her,” Rhett says. “We’re Alphas. She’s an Omega in heat. Do you think we can just... ignore it?”
“Of course we can,” I lie. “We have self-control. We aren’t animals.”
“I know that,” Rhett says. “But she’s scared. She’s overwhelmed. We can’t just react like this is a free-for-all. She isn’t just some random Omega. She’s Saramaria.”
“Then what do you suggest?” I ask. “We leave her alone at the clinic? In a waiting room full of strange Alphas? Like she’s meat?”
“No,” Rhett says. “We go get her. We bring her home. We protect her. But we have to be careful. She needs to feel safe. Not... hunted.”
“Hunted,” I repeat, the word leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I think of Jack Dalton, of what he tried to do to Willa. Locking her in a bathroom. Taking advantage of her biology.
“We aren’t him,” I say. “We will never be him.”
