Page 27 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

But I had to stay quiet in front of Jed. I wondered how badly humans treated shifters, for them to want to keep to themselves, for them to keep their secret. Like, they turned into animals! Didn’t that give them the advantage over regular humans?

Or maybe it didn’t. Humans had advantages over a lot of creatures—guns, for example. So it was cool Cam could turn into a coyote, but he was more likely to get shot that way. Bobby Lam was proof of that. And as a coyote, Cam couldn’t even fire back. At least when two humans had a gun fight, they were playing on equal terms.

And what if shifters could beforcedto shift? Maybe that made it easy to hunt them or something.

I thought about tales about man-eating wolves in Europe and werewolves and silver bullets and stuff.

Yeah, it was probably better that shifters didn’t tell humans about their existence.

As much as I wanted to ask all the questions about shifters, I had a lot else on my mind too. One, what the hell was an omega, and why did Cam think I was one? He’d never really given me an answer. He’d called himself an alpha, which I knew lots ofpeople thought meant “leader of a wolf pack.” But I also knew that theory had been debunked ages ago, and from what I’d seen, Cal was definitely in charge. Cam was more like a second-in-command, if anything.

So that had to meanalphameant something different.

Second, Cam had said I wasin heat. I didn’t need anyone to explain to me what that usually meant—I was a veterinarian, for crying out loud. But I didn’t know what it meant for shifters—or what it meant forme. I was, as far as I knew, human.

I’d been wondering if maybe I had, like, some secret shifter ancestors or something, but I didn’t know how I’d figure that out. My mother had run off and left me with my dad when I was six, so I barely remembered her. My dad had never told me her new married name or even where she went, so I’d have a bit of trouble tracking her down. And my dad … well.

I wasn’t sure he was ever going to talk to me again. Maybe it was better that way.

I supposed I could do archival research or something, but that would take time and effort and money, and all my money was going toward paying off my stupid student debt and staying alive.

So, yeah. As far as I knew, I was human. Maybe one day I’d be able to do the research to prove that I wasn’t—and maybe unearth some family secrets—but in the meantime, I had to assume I was human. After all, I’d been raised human, and nobody had ever mentioned shifters to me.

The other thing I wanted explained—and the thing that was occupying my brain the most, even over all the shifter crap—was why I was so goddamn horny still.

The night with Cam had been fantastic. I’d fallen asleep totally satisfied, but when I woke up this morning, my blood was roiling with need. I’d been stiff as a board, and I’d jerked off in the shower not once but twice.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How the hell did you have mind-blowing sex and stillneedmore? Had it just been that long that I needed more to really cure my case of blue balls?

I didn’t think that was possible or probable, because I’d gone longer. Not for a while, but suffice to say nobody really wanted to sleep with the nerdy gay kid when I was in high school. My first time was near the end of my first year of college, when I’d finally worked up the nerve to go to a party. Because I’d taken a gap year between graduating high school and my first year, that meant it had been nearly six years from the time I first met raging hormones to the time I’d gotten laid.

I definitely hadn’t had a six-year drought since then, so the “it’s been so long” argument didn’t seem to hold water.

Worse, though, I just couldn’t get Cam out of my head. It wasn’t just that I was horny—it was that I wanted Cam. Every time my eyes fluttered shut, I could see him; I could practically smell him still, even over the scent of hay and manure as we marched through Jed’s barn to where one of his cows was standing, lowing softly, as though she were in pain.

I tried to focus on the animal in front of me. She was a Jersey, a bigger girl, and according to Jed, an older one. Hadn’t meant to stud her, but she’d gotten loose when the bull had been around and, well, lo and behold.

She’d had calves before, but never twins, and Jed was probably right to be worried sick about her. I felt for the farmer; it was clear this lady was one of his favorites, from the way he looked at her to the way he patted her flank, to the way he said her name—Daisy.

Vern took a look. “Well,” he said, “she’s doing good so far.” He turned to me. “Wyatt, get the pack from the truck, and bring me some of the towels too.”

“Got it,” I said, then darted out of the barn. I inhaled deeply when I stepped outside, hoping to clear the scent of barn, butinstead giving myself a whiff of what my brain interpreted as Cam.

I glanced around. Was he nearby? Had he followed us? Vern hadn’t told him where we were going, but maybe he was tracking us?

I caught a flash of reddish fur disappearing over a knoll, and my heart leapt. My stomach lurched. Hehadfollowed us! I felt torn in half—anger that he was stalking me, and sheer, unadulterated joy that he was nearby, keeping watch.

I gritted my teeth and stalked to the truck, just as Vern hollered. “Wyatt!”

“Yeah, yeah!” I called back, flinging open one of the doors and rummaging around for Vern’s kit and some towels.

I glanced toward the knoll as I headed back to the barn, but the flash of fur was gone. Or, at least, hiding.

I swallowed. I was being silly. It probably wasn’t Cam, even if I wanted it to be.

That was another question: did I reallywantit to be Cam? Did I really want him following me around places?

Vern had told me not to get mixed up with the Carlyle boys, and he’d seemed particularly disappointed that I’d picked Cam over Cal. Did Cam have some kind of … shady past?