Page 167 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

I snort a laugh because it’s become a running joke, but it lightens the mood, and when he puts his arm over my shoulder and leads me out to where the Sandersons have set up their spread, I don’t fight him, I go willingly, openly because my alpha has said these people are my people.

And I trust him.

I trust them.

Raven

Pix slams a hand across my mouth and shoves me up against a tree.

“Shh.”

I watch his eyes, the way they darken and dance.

He slowly pulls away and reaches for a helmet, handing me one.

“Ready?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Let’s go.”

I mean, is it really running away if the whole point of the game is to enrage your alphas into chasing you?

To be fair, they are going to be extra toey because the omega side of me and Pix are all synchronized on their heats again. Which is part of the problem. They’ve had us all but locked up at home.

I refuse to allow their nest to be in a house when our nest is a beautiful stretch of forest that Pix likes to turn into a glittering wonderland of fabric. He weaves his nest with the same skill that a spider does.

Because I am a forward-thinking girl, I’ve had Bonnie, Meg, and anyone else who ventures out that way drop little care boxes of fabric, ropes, and material for Pix to shred. As far as I can work out for our omega side, we don’t know how to nest, and so, we don’t have the drive to have anything but open space and shiny things. I swear, Merle is a Magpie not a blackbird.

I think that clearly comes from the trauma of living in tiny places and suffering through heats alone.

Our omega needs trees, stars, rivers. Places to roam, places to run.

Pix picks up our speed, and then we’re there. He hides the bike near the cabin. I glance at the spot where Bonnie murdered three men with bees! I couldn’t even believe that story, but it was great!

Ingenious, even.

Inside the cabin, Pix pulls out two massive packs and hands me one. I shoulder it, and we set off.

We’ve been walking for five hours when the forest suddenly gets quiet. I slow to a stop, turning.

“Pix, I think maybe…”

He drops his pack and takes off.

I don’t. I brace, ready to attack, but the attack comes out of nowhere. A tiny dart to my upper chest. I look down at it and scowl.

“Rolly! That is a new low!”

He chuckles as he comes out, leaning like a sexy god against the tree. “Rory gave me some new toys to test out.”

I try to swear at him but end up spitting.

“Oh, babes, you are a hot little mess. Allow me to take care of you.”

“Don’t you dare!” Well, I try to say that. The words do not come out that way at all. He shoves me against a tree and holds me there by my throat. I squirm and struggle, panting, but he just leans in close as he strips the pack off my shoulders.

“You gave me consent.”