Alex’s grin slips, and Dakota’s face falls completely.
Tadeo’s shoulders droop ever so slightly, like that’s exactly the answer he’d feared.
Knox presses the heel of his hand against one eye, then he lets out a heavy breath. “I’m scared I hurt her.”
“No,” Alex snaps, moving forward like he wants to punch the idea away. His voice is too loud in the cold. “Knox, it could’ve been anything. You know omegas get overwhelmed really easily. Especially the first time they’re claimed by a new pack.”
“She also had a really hard day,” Dakota adds, softer than I expect. “I’m sure all those awful drugs they pumped into her didn’t help.” His jaw clenches, like he’s upset.
“Don’t torture yourself,” Alex says to Knox, voice hardening into command. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I blink down at the canvas beneath me, guilt prickling hot under my skin. He didn’t hurt me. But clearly I acted in a way that made him think I was unhappy with the things he did. I vaguely remember asking him to stop…or did I just think that?
Either way, I’ll have to convince him that he did everything right. Because happy alphas create calm houses.
“We need to get moving,” Knox says, and I look up. He looks so conflicted as he drags a hand down his face. “Being out in this weather for too long isn’t good for omegas.” He gestures vaguely toward the tent—toward me. “Alex. Tadeo,” his tone changes, commanding, “get everything rounded up. I want to be on the road in twenty minutes.”
My heart lurches.
Shit.
I scramble backward, trying not to rustle the canvas, heart pounding in my chest. My body protests the sudden movement—everything still sore and stiff—but I forcemyself to crawl as quietly as I can across the cold floor and dive back into the mess of blankets. Then I flop onto my side, pull the green one tight around my shoulders, and close my eyes.
My mind races, even as I try to slow my breathing, to make my body still and soft like I’m deep in sleep. The last thing I want is for them to know I was listening.
Will they see it as defiance? An invasion? Or some kind of disrespect?
How would they punish me?
Spanking?
Beating?
Scream at me until I "learn my place?"
I hate that I have no idea what their rules are.
Brayden was a little extreme sometimes—or I assume he was—but all alphas have firm expectations of their omega. They want obedience without question and silence without exception. Knox didn’t seem like that kind of person last night, but alphas are always a little different when they’ve got their omega beneath them. In the light of day, though, I’m just another burden for him to carry.
For now, I’ll keep my head down and do what I’m told. If I’m quiet and agreeable—if I don’t cause any trouble—they won’t have a reason to hate me. Right?
My stomach twists, and I curl in on myself, pretending it’s the cold.
Somewhere outside the tent, I hear the murmur of movement—footsteps crunching the leaves, someone dragging something across the ground. A bag? A piece of gear?
Then the zipper rips through the silence.
ZZZZZZzzzzhhk.
The sound slices through the tent like a blade. My heart slams against my ribs so hard I swear it must be visiblethrough the blanket. Blood drains from my face, and a cold, nauseating dread settles low in my stomach.
They’re coming in.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, willing myself to stay still. Calm. Limp. Maybe if I look small enough, helpless enough, they won’t do anything. Maybe they’ll let me sleep and pretend nothing happened.
Or maybe they’re already planning which one of them is going to correct me.
A boot softly brushes the canvas floor inside the entrance. I can hear breathing now—deep and steady.
