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A shake of his head rustled Colt’s shaggy hair over his shoulders. “Not until it was too late. Not until the first half of the building collapsed. I got wrapped up fighting off the attackers, but...” His chest deflated inward. “That’s not the whole of it. There...” He cleared his throat as if dislodging something sticky. “There were reasons I may have been inclined to forget... reasons I may have wanted you dead but was too cowardly to even admit to myself.”
Belly filled with solidifying ice, Cal stared into the fire. “Go on. Not that I give a shit, but seems like you got a need to get this off your chest.”
The younger Alpha released a long, unhappy sigh. “When you joined up and brought your friends along with you, I started to notice some things. Simon and Matteo were your friends, but they respected you and deferred to your judgment, and in the time we traveled from OT back here, a few of the others started to do the same. You helped Hunt save Kess, and everyone admired you for that. It... uh... got into my head.”
The realization smacked him in the face. “You thought I would take your place as Second.” After everything that had happened, Cal could barely remember the journey Colt referenced. Perhaps a few of the younger Alphas gave him some additional respect, but supplanting Colt as Second was the furthest thing from Cal’s mind then, as it was now.
Colt’s head drooped miserably. “When you chose me for the initiation fight, I took it as a challenge.”
“I had to choose someone, so why not you?” Cal asked with quiet menace. “And if you thought that was the case, then why not take it up with me directly?”
“I know. It’s just...” He speared a hand into his hair. “Some things had happened before you joined up, and I already had guilt for not protecting Hunter’s Omega better. And then you came along and helped Hunt get her back and...” He stared down at his hands, anguish written in every line of his face. “Hunter is like a brother and a father to me and... I felt like I’d let him down.”
Cal’s brows hiked up his forehead. “All that has fuck all to do with me.”
“I know that now.” Colt poured himself another cup from the pitcher. “It sounds weak to admit being envious of you, but there it is.”
The implications sprouted in front of him like pictures in a pop-up children’s book. It all made so much more sense: Colt’s open hostility toward him, especially after the initiation fight and then even more once they arrived in Morris Hill, his exuberant condemnation of Cal in that initial conflict with Silas, Colt practically encouraging him to leave the settlement, and Colt’s fury when he’d returned.
As if he could feel the weight of Cal’s judgment, Colt’s head sunk farther toward his chest, shame rolling off him in waves. “I’m sorry... I... I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, well, that makes it all right,” Cal said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. A fat lot of good it did for the asshole to be sorrynow, now that everyone survived and he didn’t have to live minus one foot.
Resentment poisoning his blood, Cal sought the silver strands of Della’s hair glittering in the reflected firelight. Seeing his mate, he felt his irritation surface even more. “But what about the apology you owe her?” he demanded. “For what your actions forced her to do? Did you know her husband died in a fire? Your actions forced her to run headfirst into another one,” he snarled.
Colt stared across the fire at Della, and a thick swallow bobbed in his throat. “I’ll make it up to her. I’ll make it up to both of you, I promise.”
Cal sucked down a long, thoughtful gulp, feeling the alcohol work to hamper his temper before it exploded into full-on rage. Huffing angry gusts, he cast a sidelong glance at Colt, noting that deep bags had taken up residence under Colt’s eyes and that his normally thick, shiny hair hung limp and dull over his slouched and hunched shoulders. The Second suffered under the weight of this. Whether or not it was even possible for him to make anything up to them, wisdom told Cal that taking this refreshed anger out on Colt wouldn’t actually alter anything about their current circumstance.
Although younger than Colt when the bridge collapsed, he knew what it was to be haunted by remorse, to live with the angst of being forever forsaken with no path toward forgiveness, your every decision tainted and corrupted by fear and dread. There was no value in cursing Colt to perpetual penance. Perhaps he would curse himself, Cal couldn’t change that, but for himself, he wanted no responsibility for that pronouncement.
Sighing, Cal dropped his chin in a move toward sufferance. “You made a mistake,” Cal said, fishing for the words like moving about in a pitch-black room. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate the apology.”
Colt’s shoulders deflated even farther, his expression one of weary wretchedness. “Thank you.”
“A piece of advice”—Cal shifted on the log where he sat, bending his footless leg a few times at the knee to shake off some stiffness—“more important than making it up to me and Della, you need to find a way to forgive yourself.”
Colt nodded slowly and stared into the fire, giving no indication of the merit of the advice. Slapping a palm on the Alpha’s shoulder, Cal levered himself to his working foot before bending to retrieve his crutches.
He’d had enough Alpha heart-to-hearts for the evening, and now he needed his Omega.
*
Della
A strong arm hooked around her middle and hauled her against a broad, firm chest. Delighted, Della tried and failed to suppress a laugh. A deep voice purred in her ear, making her toes curl, “Are you finished networking and schmoozing?”
To her regret, she’d introduced Cal to some of the more tedious terms and idioms of her former life, which, unsurprisingly, he now used to tease her with whenever possible. She swung a guilty glance toward the Omegas she’d been talking with, two of the new additions that had been held captive by the rogue attackers. As Hunter had described, the new Omegas were indeed a bedraggled group, fearful and bordering on paranoid after their ordeal. Della hadn’t managed to get the full story out of them, but the hints and rumors she’d gleaned were grim enough. The question whether they’d choose to stay in Morris Hill or move along on their own lingered, unasked and unanswered by everyone. Della hoped with the impending construction of the Omega bunkhouse, they could be enticed to stay, if only for their well-being and safety. But, then again, contrary to the more forceful Alpha opinions, she understood it had to be their choice.
“I suppose I’m leaving,” she said to the Omegas, reaching up to pat Cal on the cheek. “This poor invalid needs his beauty rest.”
A rumbling growl cascaded down her spine, putting every erogenous zone on high alert. “Woman,” his drawl accented with another deep growl, “don’t test me.”
“Good night, girls,” she laughed before spinning in Cal’s hold to wrap her arms around his neck and take in a deep, greedy lungful of his coffee-cinnamon scent. Seasoned over the long day with the tang of sweat, the bitter hint of beer, and the savory note of roasted pork, it made her senses twirl like an exuberant child spinning around till sick. “Hmmm,” she hummed against his skin, “what kind of test are you proposing?”
She grinned up at him. A smile flirted on Cal’s lips, and he bent to brush his lips over her cheek, then her jaw, and the sensitive spot behind her ear, making Della’s shoulder shoot up in response. “Let’s take a walk,” he whispered, sliding a hand down to take a firm hold of her bottom.
They skirted several groups of Alphas who tried to entice them to stay with offerings of food and drink. Cal had become a minor celebrity around the growing village, and plenty of crude comments followed his polite declines, which only made Della laugh and shake her head in embarrassment. Undaunted, he powered through the party and charged into the dark, away from the fire’s glow, with a determined step and swing of the crutches. At times like these, memories of her mate’s easy, fluid, two-footed walk drifted to the surface of her mind, bringing with them a sad wistfulness for the loss of his sexy swagger. A small price to pay for surviving that night with their lives and their bond intact, but a price nonetheless.
