Page 6 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

His hazel eyes were the highlight of his face, wide as they were with surprise right now. They were surrounded by a thick fan of dark lashes, almost too thick for a guy, and I had to tamp down on the urge to sniff him. There was no way this guy wasn’t an omega, but I could hardly stick my nose to his neck to confirm that.

Petal pink lips pressed together, then came apart in a wordless movement. Was it me, or was that a hint of crimson on those pale cheeks? Maybe that was just the cold. The door was still wide open, and I could feel the nip of the frosty spring morning filtering in.

Cal looked me up and down, then said slowly, “Was just hearing about a wounded critter that might be on the prowl.”

He tossed a quizzical look at our visitor. “This fella here was just sayin’—sorry, stranger, didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh!” The guy’s eyes got really wide, before his cheeks went pink with embarrassment. “Sorry—I’m Wyatt. Wyatt Feenstra.”

Cal dipped his head. “Cal Carlyle. Pleasure. Anyway, Wyatt here said Lam shot one, but it got away. Was following the blood, but it came right up to our door, then stopped.”

“Huh,” I said. “That’s strange.”

“Ain’t it now,” Cal agreed. “Thank you, Mr. Feenstra. We’ll keep an eye out, but I think you should clear off now.”

Wyatt looked confused at the sudden change in my brother’s tone. I didn’t blame him; we didn’t need this Wyatt getting any closer to the truth than he’d already come. What the hell was he doing anyway? He had to have come back out to Lam’s earlierthis morning, maybe even before dawn, to … track a wounded predator by himself? What kind of idiot was he?

“O-okay,” he said, then jabbed a thumb at a beat-up Kia that had seen better days. “If you do find the coyote, would you mind giving me a call? I’ll bring my kit and …”

“Your kit?” Cal looked offended. “What, are you gonna play doctor to some vermin?”

Wyatt’s face flashed with fury for a second. “We could at least put it out of its misery,” he said sternly.

Cal and I shared a look. “Hang on a minute,” I said. “Let me go check the barn.”

Wyatt colored up to his ears. “Oh. Um, I already looked around there—”

“That’s trespassing,” Cal said hotly, while I headed to the back door. Once outside, I stripped off my shirt and my jeans, then shifted into my fur.

A minute later, I trotted around the side of the house, wincing with every step.

“Oh!” Wyatt cried, stumbling back a step or two. I couldn’t help my canine grin, letting my tongue loll out of my mouth. This guy was too much fun.

Cal leaned out the door. “Oh-ho,” he said, “there’s our suspect. Bold little bugger, isn’t he?”

I trotted right up to Wyatt, flicking an ear. I could smell him much better in this form, and I was pleased to note I was right—he was absolutely an omega.

I sat down on my haunches a few feet away, letting my tail sweep the dirt. “Well,” Cal said gently, “aren’t ya gonna get your kit?”

“Oh. Er. Yeah.” Wyatt stumbled off the stoop. His hazel gaze kept darting to me, like he expected me to attack him or something.

I wouldn’t have minded chasing him, but my shoulder wasn’tgoing to stand for that. Instead, I waited for him to fumble around in the car. He returned holding what looked like a regular old messenger bag.

I sat still while he approached me, cautiously. Cal leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Wyatt stopped a few paces short, hand extended like he wanted to pet me.

I didn’t think I’d mind if he did.

Those big hazel eyes blinked. “He’s awful tame, isn’t he?” Cal asked.

“Y-yeah …”

“Maybe he’s rabid,” my brother said, and Wyatt grimaced, his hand retracting. “You gonna put him down or what?”

I flashed Cal a dirty look. I was trying to get this Wyatt to patch me up, so I could avoid another expensive visit from Marnie, but it wasn’t going to work if my stupid brother kept running his stupid mouth.

Wyatt was still staring at me, as though mesmerized, when I looked back. “Seems a shame,” he murmured.

“Doubt it would be,” Cal remarked, smirking at me.