Page 105 of His Stolen Omega

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He lost track of time fairly quickly, the weather not doing anything to help there. A storm had rolled in almost as soon as he’d set out, blotting the sun and turning the sky a murky gray. The snowfall was heavy, weighing him down as he moved, but also providing ample cover by quickly filling his tracks. It wasn’t long before he could only make out a couple of yards or so of them behind him, the rest covered.

The single arrow was a nuisance to carry, and he wondered more than once why he’d even bothered taking it.

He recalled asking Levi about it one afternoon while they’d been hanging out in the second-floor lounge. Elm had been picking at frost grapes—his new favorite fruit—and had asked the question absently, not really expecting an answer.

The alpha was like that, secretive and quiet. They could spend hours together with no other sounds but the two of them breathing, Levi seemingly content with the comfortable silence.

Admittedly, Elm didn’t hate it either.

Some of those moments were ones he’d maybe even felt less alone.

The bow had been a gift from his father. The last present given before his untimely demise—which Elm knew nothing about other than Levi having been the murderer. There’d been more arrows, but the alpha had shrugged and said they, along with the quiver, were in storage somewhere. Elm couldn’t remember seeing it during any of his explorations, but then again, he hadn’t exactly been looking.

The alpha hadn’t told him what was special about this particular arrow to make him display it, not that it mattered. Elm hadn’t grabbed it as a novelty item or a keepsake. He’d brought it for self-defense.

Sky might be the national champion in their friend group, but Elm wasn’t a bad archer. Since his best friend preferred practicing outdoors, he also had a ton of experience working with and against the wind.

The thick winter coat, boots, and gloves helped to keep most of the cold out as he trapesed through the thicket. Any sign of a road had been long buried, so he’d been left wandering in the general direction he’d seen the hovercar had come from when the soldier had visited two weeks ago.

Even dressed as he was, he wouldn’t be able to last out here indefinitely. There was a real fear of freezing, and he was starting to doubt himself when the first sign of movement drew his attention.

He’d made it up onto a hill dotted with trees, their thin trunks grown close together, providing a good amount of cover to hide behind. Below, a black, furry creature cut through the snow, and Elm ducked before risking a closer look.

The air caught in his lungs when he realized it wasn’t a creature at all, but the Leviathan, dressed in a practically matching outfit to the one Elm was in, only in deep charcoal.

Shit.

What should Elm do?

The alpha had caught up to him a lot faster than he’d expected. All it would take was him spotting one footstep and he’d be on Elm in an instant.

Would Levi kill him?

Technically, they were mated now but…What did that mean? In all their time together, Levi had never once brought up an interest in taking a claimed mate. He hadn’t so much as hinted at wanting to bite Elm, had instead shown perfect restraint in all things.

Hell, they hadn’t even kissed again since their first night at the lodge in the hot spring. And when he’d gone into rut, hadn’t he told Elm to run?

His exact order had been not to let himself be caught.

That didn’t sound like the actions of a man who was interested in forever with a person.

Elm found himself a lot less certain about his earlier assumption.

Maybe it really had been a mistake. Levi had gotten caught up in the moment and finally unraveled. That was pretty typical, wasn’t it? For people who spent their lives super high-strung? Eventually they lost control and snapped.

If the bite had been a mistake…

Levi would kill him.

It was the only way to break a mating bond. One of them had to die.

Elm shifted into position and notched the single arrow, acting on impulse. He had the weapon raised and was taking aim before it really occurred to him what he was doing, and he paused.

He had a clear shot.

The alpha had stopped and was sniffing the air. There was a wild, almost animalistic gleam in his silver eyes. He turned, trying desperately to catch Elm’s scent, but Elm was in the clear at the moment, standing downwind. The alpha did a one eighty.