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She laughs, loud and unrestrained. “You guessed it! Most people think Georgia because of my name.”
“Given name or…?”
“Oh, God no,” she says. “But I prefer going by Peaches than any name my mother gave me. The Gulf Pack isn’t…well, they aren’t as nice as the people here.”
“Wait—you were born into a pack?” I ask. “So you must be…”
“Twenty years old, born lycan,” she says. “I’ve never known any other life. But in the Gulf Pack, they don’t let omegas go free to choose the mates we want. They…they give us away to alphas the Prime chooses.”
“But I thought Alabama was still controlled by the Heavenly Host,” I say. “I figured they would try to lock down on things like that.”
I feel Peaches shrug only from the way her hand moves on my arm. “I don’t know,” she says. “I just know that, when I was growing up, my mama said it was always the way things were around there. I couldn’t wait to get away.”
The smell of soap hits my nose, and I realize we must have come to what passes for the bathroom around here. There was a toilet with running water in the visitor’s center, but I don’t think most of the den is outfitted with plumbing. In fact, I don’t know exactly why they live here instead of in the old base in Austin—I’ll have to ask Peaches about it. She pauses and her hand finds the knot at the back of my head, though, unraveling it to let me blink at my surroundings.
She’s brought me to a natural spring, pools of blue set into the cavern floor. A waterfall pours through a hole in the ceiling, where bright white sunlight filters in through the surrounding vegetation. I gawk at the sight for a moment before Peaches takes me gently by the arm, gesturing over to the edge of the room.
“Towels are over here,” she says. “I typically just grab one before I hop in.”
“Is it warm?” I ask.
“No, but it’s comfortable enough, and clean,” she says. “Might take you a couple minutes to get used to the water, but at least then you won’t be covered in blood.”
“So I just…get naked?” I say. “Sorry—I’m not really used to this.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “I wasn’t either. For what it’s worth, only omegas and betas are allowed in this bathing area, so you’ll be safe. No alphas prowling around here.”
I frown. “That’s the second time you’ve used those words,” I say. “I have to admit I don’t get it. Are you talking about, like, wolf packs…?”
Peaches swallows. “Um. I don’t know if I can really explain it. Might be better to talk to someone who knows more about how lycans work.”
“But you are one.”
“Yeah, I know,” she shrugs. “But I’ve always been like this. I don’t know any other way.”
She takes off toward the stacked towels in a cabinet against the stone wall, and I follow her there. Peaches hands me a towel, then grabs one for herself. “I don’t have to bathe right now, but if you wouldn’t mind the company…?”
“No problem,” I say, nodding. “Just don’t freak out when you see my wound—it might be pretty ugly.”
I follow her over to the pool of water, and Peaches doesn’t show any shyness as she strips off her shirt and shimmies out of the pair of jean shorts she’s wearing. She’s not wearing any underwear—I guess they aren’t really into that around here—and appears to be covered in freckles from head to toe. She hisses out a breath as she steps into the water, glancing back at me.
“It’s okay, Tilda,” she says. “No one else is here. I’ve got your back.”
I glance over my shoulder, knowing now would be an ideal time to run away. She’s already naked—is she going to chase me completely nude through the cavern if I make a break for it? But as I hesitate, Reyes’ words ring out in my mind.
Don’t try anything.
And I just…don’t.
I avert my eyes and pull off my tank top, the thin fabric sticking to my blood crusted on my hip. It tears a little, and I wince at the searing pain that erupts across my flesh in its wake. I ignore it as much as possible to pull off my pants, leaving them in a heap at the edge of the pool as I jump right in.
It’s colder than I expect.
“Whoa,” I breathe. “That’s…bracing.”
“Sorry about that,” Peaches laughs. She’s already swimming away, toward the waterfall. “Guess I’m just used to the cold at this point. And it gets a little toasty in the den sometimes, so this is a nice refresher.”
The water deep and distorted enough to allow at least the illusion of privacy, and I keep my distance from the other woman as I stay at the water’s edge. My wound isn’t bleeding at all, but it does hurt more with the water on it. In hindsight, this may have been a bad idea in terms of keeping the wound clean.
