The momentum makes me dizzy. I look up, blinking rain out of my eyes.
It’s Boone.
He’s soaked. His shirt is plastered to his chest, outlining every muscle. His hair is plastered to his forehead. He looks furious. His eyes are blazing in the dark.
“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice booms over the thunder.
“I have to find him!” I scream back, trying to pull my arm away. “He’s by the culvert! Blue is showing me!”
“The cold is too much!” he shouts back. “Look at you! You’re blue!”
“I don’t care!”
“I will find the dog for you!” he orders, his grip tightening. “Go back to the house!”
“No!” I yell, stomping my foot in the mud. “No disrespect, Boone, but I can find him! He’s my dog! You’d just be in the way!”
He stares at me. For a second, the wind seems to stop. The only sound is the rain hitting the ground and my own ragged breathing.
He lets out a growl of pure frustration.
“Stubborn fucking Omega,” he snarls.
Before I can react, he bends down and hooks an arm behind my knees. He lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
The breath rushes out of me as my stomach hits his hard shoulder.
“Put me down!” I scream, beating my fists against his back. “Boone! Let me go!”
He ignores me. He turns and marches back toward the house, his boots gripping the muddy ground with ease.
“Put me down! He’s out there! He’s scared!”
He doesn’t say a word. He just holds me tighter, one arm pinning my legs, the other arm across my back, locking me in place.
We pass the porch. I can see Rhett and Knox standing in the open door, the firelight silhouetting them. They’re watching, their eyes wide.
“Rhett!” I scream. “Knox! Help me! He won’t let me go!”
Boone doesn’t stop. He stomps up the steps, two at a time.
“Put me down!”
He carries me into the house, kicking the door shut with his foot, sealing out the storm.
He walks me to the sofa and dumps me onto it. Not gently. I bounce on the cushions, the breath leaving me in a huff.
He looms over me, water dripping from his nose onto the coffee table. He is breathing hard, his chest heaving.
“Stay,” he bites out.
He turns and grabs a blanket from the back of the chair. He throws it at me. It lands on my head, covering my face.
I rip it off, glaring at him. “I hate you.”
“Fine,” he says, turning his back on me. “Rhett, get the towels. Knox, stoke the fire. She’s freezing.”
“I am not freezing!” I lie, shivering so hard my teeth are chattering.
