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Cal
Primitive satisfaction expanded Cal’s chest. Building the fire, preparing the meal, feeding his soon-to-be mate felt deeply, perfectlyright. Just as her body, flushed and luscious and trembling under his, felt right.
Now, sitting fireside, Della scraped up the last of her second portion of stew with only a threadbare blanket draped over her lap. It took a truly excruciating amount of willpower to keep himself from snatching it away to lose himself in her impossible softness. A few quick movements and she’d be flat on her back, writhing under him. He knew it. She knew it. Yet, here they sat, eating dinner and playing at being civilized.
“Can I ask you something?” Della’s earnest face peered over the rim of her bowl. He angled his head in silent permission. “Why did you come to Morris Hill?”
Lacking any note of challenge, the straightforward question clanged a quiet alarm. “Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason.” She toyed with her spoon, affecting a careful curiosity. “You implied you were used to living rough, so does that mean you prefer it?”
Cal pulled the stew pot between his legs, scooping the last few spoonfuls into his mouth and chewing through a tough piece of meat. “Wouldn’t say I prefer it.”
She set her bowl aside and leaned forward. “So you didn’t come to Morris Hill for a roof over your head and a bed to sleep in? Were you looking to join a Pack?”
Why all the sudden interest in his life? Under other circumstances, he would’ve welcomed talking to his future mate about his life. But, right now, he sensed a trap. When he’d escorted Della outside the cave to relieve herself earlier, her head swiveled in all directions, but no hint of recognition passed over her face. Confirmation enough for him that she had no idea where they were, and without her pants (which he’d tucked away in the darkest part of the cave while she’d slept), any foolish escape attempt was doomed to fail.
If she endeavored to be free of him, a smart woman like Dell wouldn’t give up, she’d change tactics. Donning a fake innocence and probing into his past, perhaps she sought to push him off balance and render him liable to tip his hand. It was clever. He’d give her that, but answering anticipation danced in his chest. He had another, more potent, weapon at his disposal. One that she consistently underestimated.
Meeting her questioning gaze, Cal licked his spoon clean with deliberate care, letting his lips caress every inch of the utensil. “Wasn’t looking, exactly,” he said as she stared, transfixed, at his mouth. “The opportunity presented itself, and we took it.”
Della cleared her throat. “We?”
Shoving the dishes to the side, he unlaced and removed his boots, leaning into their little game. He’d had a bath, a full belly, and a pretty Omega to look at; they could draw this out as long as she wanted. Leaning back on his palms, Cal rolled his neck to the side, stretching out a kink and providing more opportunities to draw her attention to his physique. “Yeah. My companions, Simon and Matteo.”
Pink stole across her cheeks, and her eyes dropped to her lap like a hot potato. “Which one was in the stable?”
He lifted his head. “That would be Simon.”
“He helped you.” Glancing up, she circled a finger around the cave. “Arrange all this.” There wasn’t a question in that statement, so he didn’t reply. Instead, Cal flexed his shoulders, thrusting his chest in her direction and enjoying the gratifying response when her glazed focus poured down the lines of his torso. Licking her lips, she eyed him with a calculating expression. “How did you meet Hunter?”
Lazily, his eyes roamed over her figure, appreciating the graceful line of her neck, sloping down to her shoulders. The stretch of skin where her neck disappeared into her shirt beckoned to him, the future home of his mating bite. The anticipation tingled on his tongue, and he indulged in it, letting the desire flow through his body for a moment before answering.
“Kess got into a spot of trouble in OT, and I helped Hunt get her back.”
Surprise lit her face. “What were you doing in OT?”
“This and that.” None of their activities—drinking and whoring and coercing shopkeepers into more-than-generous trades for the animal pelts they’d trapped—were fit for Della’s ears. “We’d been there a few weeks, along with some other Alphas who traveled with us,” he offered, “but they weren’t keen on Hunter’s rules, so they set off in another direction.”
Hiking one knee up, Cal flicked open the top button of his trousers and then spread his thighs, inviting her consideration of his swelling flesh as it asserted its interests. His hips rolled in a subtle, experimental thrust, one so small it would go unnoticed if her attention lay anywhere else.
Her pink cheeks darkened to scarlet. She didn’t miss it.
“Turns out you’re not so keen on rules either,” she said with forced lightness, but Cal didn’t miss the snide admonishment in her tone nor the way she boldly stared him down, daring him to argue as she pressed on. “Here’s what I don’t understand: why fight your way into a Pack only to turn around and betray them?”
The accusation hit him in full force. Duty and obligation to the settlement’s safety drove him to clash with Silas, not any kind of sneaky impulse to disrupt the Pack’s order. But she didn’t know that, and right about now, he didn’t really feel like explaining. She’d tipped her hand, pronouncing her judgment on him as a rule-thwarting scoundrel. That was fine; he could play that role for tonight.
“Rules are important,” he said, voice gruff, “when they make sense.”
Unconvinced, her eyes snapped with accusation, andgoddamn, if the return of that sass didn’t tip him right over the edge. The low, barely-there growl he’d suppressed all day erupted. It cascaded over his taut muscles and embedded deep in his groin. More importantly, it reached its intended destination. Confirmed by the tang of fresh slick that floated into the air, his Omega’s automatic and involuntary response had his cock instantly alive and impatient.
Caught up in their game, she might play at defiance, but she couldn’t deny the color scorching her cheeks and the racing pulse pounding at the base of her neck. Della cleared her throat. “So abducting a woman and claiming her against her will makessense?”
Their eyes locked as their breathing came into unison. Yes, it did make sense. Tired of their game, he was ready to show her just how much.
Smirking, Cal peeled off his shirt, letting the cave-crisp air caress his heated skin, feeling his nipples harden in response. Shoulders hunched as if braced for a blow, Della scowled. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?”
In answer, Cal flipped to hands and knees and encroached on the trembling Omega, unable to contain her gasp of surprise. Syrupy black currant sweetness bathed him in the oh-so-incredible evidence of everything that made perfect fucking sense. Nose to nose, she stared him down—glaredhim down—losing her crusade of indifference. Delighted, he engaged in the pointless skirmish. She dared him to back down; he dared her to look away.
