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Raine looks back and sees Ferris walking with me, so she falls back to match our strides. “Is it time?” she asks, a nervous lilt to her voice. Her gorgeous face is luminous with a mixture of hunger and nervous anticipation.
“I’m sending Ferris to find us a den.”
He breathes deeply as his eyes harden with focus. “What should I look for?”
“Somewhere off the beaten path, preferably with a lock, or some way to close us off from the outside world. It would be ideal if it was near a water or food source, but we can’t be picky. Whistle as loud as you can once you find a place.”
Ferris nods, then pulls Raine in for a hug and a sweet kiss, whispering reassurances on her lips. After they separate, he walks back over to me and places his hand on the side of my face. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
My growl rumbles in my chest and I pull him closer to me. In a low voice, I say, “See you soon,” and then I press my lips to his, relishing the feel of his lips on my own. When our mouths part, I rub my cheeks over his in a possessive scent-mark, then nod for him to go.
Raine kneels in the underbrush in the dying light, picking wild berries to fill some of our empty water jars. “How long does rut typically last?” she asks, looking up at me with green eyes that remind me of home. She’s been trying to distract me with questions.
“Usually just the two or three days that the moon is at its fullest,” I reply.
While Ferris hunts for a den, we’ve been gathering what we can to sustain us while we’re tucked away for the duration of my rut. I wish I could have been the one to go looking, but my wolf will not let me leave Raine, and he’s confident that Ferris will provide. We’re extremely fortunate that the landscape is rapidly changing into meadows broken by sparse trees the higher we get into the mountains. It’s broadened our food options significantly, allowing us to fill several jars full of small berries and a sack full of wild plums. I’m hoping the landscape will offer Ferris more choices as well.
“A couple days aren’t too bad,” she muses. “We should have enough fruit now and we have a few cans of fish left, even a couple of wapato.”
I try so hard to focus on the important conversation we’re having, but my brain feels fractured between reality and hormonal haze. I’m not used to this lack of control. As leader of my clan, my life revolves around my ability to remain levelheaded, and right now I feel so off-kilter I might as well be drunk.
Maybe if we just taste our mate, our thoughts will settle, my wolf says.
Fuck, now I’m thinking about licking Raine’s pussy. Her mouth is moving with words I can’t focus on, but I can smell her ripening, getting ready to burst like the delicate little berries she’s picking, and the last threads of my sanity seem so very thin.
I stalk toward her, mindless, ready to devour her here in the berry patch when I hear a faint, high whistle. Ferris.
“We have to go now, omega,” I growl, helping Raine stand and then shoving everything into her backpack.
“Oh,” she gasps as a beautiful flush floods her cheeks.
“Quickly now,” I say. “I want you to have time to nest before I’m moon-mad.” I grab her hand, and we move as quickly as we can through the growing darkness, being careful not to fall or trip.
I catch Ferris’s scent trail pretty quickly and follow it deeper into the wilderness where he’s waiting for us. “Come,” he says, chest heaving, eyes wild. My perfect mirror.
Without his backpack, he’s able to grab Raine and throw her over his shoulder before stalking into the copse of thickening trees in the near distance. I follow, breathing in their combined scent deeply as my knot pulses.
On the other side of the tree blind is a silver metal camper shaped like a bullet. It has seen far better days if the rust and dents are anything to judge by, but there are no scents in the area to indicate that anyone has been nearby in recent weeks.
“I checked the inside and it’s in pretty decent condition,” Ferris says as he places Raine back down on her feet.
I swing the creaky door open to peer inside. One end looks like a miniature kitchen, complete with a tiny table and bench seats. There’s a simple couch that looks suspiciously in good condition and a door that’s closed. The other end has faded, moth-eaten gold curtains pulled back to reveal a doorway to a small bedroom. Overall, the space smells musty but empty. It’s not my den at home, where I wish I could have taken Raine for this, but it has a door that presumably locks.
“This will do,” I say, and gesture for Raine and Ferris to go inside. Once we’re all in, I lock the door and tell Raine, “Get your nest ready, omega. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
[ 50 ]
RAINE
East of the Foothill Territory
The Full Moon
Ferris carries our bundle of blankets into the small bedroom at the back of the camper, and I follow as if bespelled. He places them on the bed and retreats, closing the frayed curtains behind him.
Standing at the foot of the mattress, I close my eyes, and take deep breaths, tapping my omega instincts to guide me. When I open them, I begin the process of building my alphas a rut nest.
I check that the windows on the side walls of the bedroom are locked, and pull the small curtains closed. Jittery, I unroll the blankets and begin systematically sorting them based on texture. Each one is brought to my face so I can rub it against my cheeks before I place the tougher blankets down over the mattress first.
