Page 45 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

“I … was gonna,” I started, then realized I didn’t have an excuse.

Caroline gazed at me with her amber eyes, waiting patiently. I sighed, then slumped down into a chair. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” I muttered, finally lifting my mug and taking a sip of steaming coffee.

“Now I just have to get Cody out of the bathroom,” Caroline muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“I thought Cal said Connor had locked himself in there,” I muttered, swirling coffee around in my mug.

“Connor is still in bed,” Caroline huffed, “and so help anyonewho thinks they’re gonna wake him up. Pup sleeps like the dead.”

I chuckled a little, then took another sip of my coffee. I could feel my aunt’s gaze boring into the back of my head.

Then she said, “I haven’t seen Wyatt.”

I almost choked on my coffee. “Uh. Yeah. Me either,” I said, setting my mug down slowly.

I swiveled in the chair to face her. She regarded me for a second or two, then said, “You tried calling him?”

“Uh.” I felt my cheeks heat. I hadn’t, actually. The first couple of days, I’d been content to wait. The next few days, I’d been convinced he was pissed at me. Now I was pretty sure he probably hated my guts, first for trying to mark him, and then for screwing up the bond.

Even though it was messed up, I could still feel him through the other end of the tether. The occasional bursts of fear I was getting were probably related to the fact he was figuring out what all this bonding stuff meant.

I should have waited. Wyatt was, as far as anyone could tell, human, and all this shifter stuff was new to him. He needed time, and instead, I’d pressed on like one of those TV alpha-holes, too desperate to claim him, to make him mine.

And I’d messed everything up in the process.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to see me again. I’d hate me too, if I were in his shoes.

“Cam,” Caroline started in her best matronly voice.

“I was going to head over to Vern’s and see if he’s in,” I admitted. Then I shrugged. “He’s probably just busy. You know. It is springtime and all—busy season for vets.”

I offered her an insincere grin. She quirked a brow, then shook her head. Then she sniffed, her nose wrinkling. “Do you smell—”

We both turned to the kitchen, just in time to see black smoke billowing out of one of the pans on the stove.

“Shit,” Caroline spat, then dove for the pan, just as the smoke detector screeched to life.

I dashed to the back door, throwing it open. Then I darted to the window over the sink; Caroline waved me out of the way as she hefted the smoking pan and dumped it into the sink. “Go get the alarm,” she ordered.

I hurried into the hallway, dragging my shirt over my head, waving it frantically at the detector. Cal’s feet thudded on the stairs. “What’s going on? What’s on fire?” he bellowed.

“Oh, calm your tits,” Karla drawled from the other room. “That’s just the bell—breakfast’s ready.”

“Shut up,” Caroline grumbled.

The alarm finally silenced itself, and I sighed, allowing myself a moment to recover from the adrenaline. When I lifted my gaze from the floor and focused, I found a familiar pair of hazel eyes peering around the corner at me.

“Uh, hey!” I cried.

Wyatt seemed to wince, withdrawing around the corner again. “Uh, hey,” he replied, his voice unsteady.

“I didn’t hear you knock,” I said, meandering closer.

Wyatt stepped out from behind the corner, glancing over his shoulder. “It was … kind of loud in here. Every thing okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” I waved at the smoke detector. “Aunt Caroline just set breakfast on fire.”

“It wasnoton fire!” Caroline hollered back.