Page 38 of Puck Your Charity

I keep my face blank. I offer no pity and no aggressive demands.

I lift the paper bag and the cardboard cup. "I brought food. You need to roll the glass down a bit more so I can hand it over."

She stares at the bag. Her stomach gives a loud, demanding growl. She hesitates, her eyes darting between my face and the hot meal.

The window slides halfway down.

I pass the coffee cup through the opening. She takes it with trembling fingers. I slide the rolled-up paper bag through next. The smell of hot grease and roasted meat fills the freezing cabin.

I don't reach for the door handle. I take a step back and look out across the empty parking lot.

"You didn't decide to camp out here for fun." I keep my voice low and steady. "The investigator tracked you to your sister's house a couple of days ago. You had a warm bed and a roof. Something chased you out of her house."

Olive clutches the warm coffee cup to her chest. She avoids my gaze.

"Was it your brother-in-law?" I hazard a guess, tracking her reaction in my peripheral vision.

She flinches. Her shoulders pull tight. The scent of sour, distressed apple pie spikes in the air.

The confirmation fuels a dark, murderous rage in my gut. A Beta man touched our Omega. I make a mental note to shatter his kneecaps before the end of the week. But I keep my voice calm. I refuse to add to her panic. "I'll handle him." I state the fact without looking at her.

"I don't need you to handle him." Her voice shakes. She sounds hoarse and exhausted. "I smashed a coffee mug into his face. I handled it."

A surge of pride warms my chest. My Omega fights back. "Good girl."

She scoffs at the praise. " Thank you for the food, but go away, Finn. Leave me alone."

I turn my head and look at her through the open window. "You can't sleep out here, Olive. The temperature drops below freezing tonight. You risk hypothermia."

"I have blankets." She grips the steering wheel.

"Blankets won't stop your Heat." I point to the vents. "You're an unbonded Omega dealing with a presenting hormonal surges. The suppressants failed. Your scent leaks out into the open air. You smell slick and desperate to me. Every unbonded Alpha within a five-mile radius will catch that scent. They will hunt the smell to its source. They will swarm this parking lot and tear your car apart to get to you."

She pales. The reality of the threat hits her.

"You broadcast your vulnerability to the entire neighborhood." I keep my tone firm. I offer a reality check. "A locked car door won't stop a feral Alpha. I refuse to let you stay here and wait for an attack."

She takes a bite of the burger, her hunger overriding her pride. She chews and swallows, closing her eyes as the hot food hits her empty stomach.

I watch her eat. Every bite she takes eases a tiny fraction of the tension in my shoulders. Providing for her feels right. Feeding my Omega satisfies a core instinct. But the danger of our location keeps my nerves on a razor's edge. The parking lot offers no security. The flickering streetlamps cast dark shadows where predators can hide.

I scan the perimeter, my eyes tracking every passing car on the main road. I push my scent out, blanketing her vehicle in a thick layer of territorial warning. Any Alpha catching the wind will smell my claim and think twice before approaching.

Olive finishes the food and sets the empty paper bag on the passenger seat. She drinks the hot coffee, her hands still shaking around the cardboard. The flush on her cheeks deepens. Her breathing turns ragged again as another wave of arousal crashes through her system.

"I appreciate the food." She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "But I don't want your pack. I don't want a bond. I'll take my chances out here."

She tries to sound fierce, but a broken sob ruins the delivery. She sounds terrified and exhausted.

I look her straight in the eye. "You're our scent-match, Olive. My pack claims you. That isn't a threat. That remains a fact. You can hate us. You can yell at us. But we plan to keep you safe."

"I won't go to your mansion." She shakes her head, tears spilling over her eyelashes. "I won't let you lock me in a room."

I push off the side panel of her car. I stand tall, letting my massive frame block the biting wind.

"Whether you let us in or not, we're going to protect you." I offer the promise with flat honesty. "If you stay in this car, I'll park my Jeep two hundred feet away. Malcolm will drive out here and take the other side of the lot. Lawrence and Victor will cover the exits. We'll take shifts. We'll miss sleep. We'll watch you every second we aren't on the ice to make sure you stay safe. We'll form a perimeter around this car and stop anyone who tries to approach you. We'll do this every night until you move to a secure place."

Olive stares at me through the gap in the window. Her lips part. Her breath hitches in her throat.