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Hoping to divert his attention away from how she spent her time, she tossed the light tease over her shoulder. "Well, maybe if I was a big, strong Alpha, I could run off my work assignment whenever I pleased."
"Comeon," Pixie said, and Zorah turned in time to see the girl give her two-year-old brother's arm a harsh yank. "You're too slow."
"Ow! My wegs hurt," Jace whined. "Zaw-wah. I don't wanna walk."
Without further discussion, Jace promptly plopped himself in the middle of the path, his chubby knees and dirty feet sticking straight out in front of him.
The troop halted, and Zorah shot Riddick a pleading look. "Can you carry him, please?"
"Carry me too! Piggyback!" Pixie chirped, bouncing on her toes.
"Zaw-wah, I wantyouto carry me," Jace said, banging his heels to kick up dust.
Riddick shook his head in wide-eyed amazement. "How do you manage this every single day?" he asked under his breath.
"One step at a time." Zorah sighed, crouching to talk to Jace. "Listen, buddy, do you see how tall Riddick is? He's going to carry you up so big and high; don't you think that sounds like fun?" Jace slid a suspicious glance to Riddick, not at all convinced. "I think he's even taller than your daddy," Zorah said, using her best two-year-old wrangling magic. "Do you think you could go up there and see if you can see farther than when Daddy carries you? Can you do that for me so I know?"
"He's not bigger than Daddy," Pixie said, chewing her lip. "But I wanna see, too."
"Of course, you can see, too. Riddick can carry both of you. Can't he?" Zorah grinned, ready to turn her charm on Riddick to seal the deal.
But when her chin tilted up, she found herself face-to-crotch with the handsome Alpha, who'd apparently come quite close while she'd been talking to Jace. Heat, having nothing to do with the weather, scalded her cheeks, getting even worse when her eyes flew upward to collide with his. His sooty lashes drooped in a look of pure lust, and the pronounced bulge near her cheek gave a definite twitch. Alpha scent washed over her; his distinctive mix of cedar and smoke and sultry masculine tang enveloped her instantly.
After spending time with Riddick all summer and exchanging a few chaste kisses with him in hidden corners, she knew his scent well. She didn't hate it. Yet, something had changed. Under the weight of the heat, fatigue, and the endless monotony of childcare, the potent odor blanketed her like an oily residue she'd need to scrub off with soap. It wasn't bad, but it... wasn't good either.
Not your Alpha, her inner Omega whispered.Not this one.
All the heat in Zorah's cheeks went clammy. Never had that quiet voice from deep inside her psyche uttered anything with such certitude. As if adding insult to injury, a longing for a different scent — salty, biting, fresh — reared its unsubtle head. Clean and brisk, one whiff of Jake's distinctive scent would dispel Riddick's oppressive contamination. Of that, she had no doubt, and Zorah despaired of not being able to conjure it up out of thin air from the strength of her memory and will alone. Maybe at her lesson tonight, she could steal a shirt of his or a towel he'd used to wipe his brow, then she could carry it with her for times like these.
Wait.What? Crouched on the dirty ground, surrounded by three ticking tantrum time bombs, fantasizing about stealing a shirt from the Pack's outcast, was this a sign of an impending heat stroke?
Swallowing, Zorah popped to her feet, not looking at Riddick as she said, "Come on, kids, let's be quick about this. Riddick has to get back to work, so hang on tight and no fighting. We'll be at the lake in no time at all."
She hustled back onto the trail and plowed ahead, not daring to look behind with all her thoughts and emotions jumbled.Not your Alpha, not your Alpha, the phrase ricocheted around her head. Like a swimmer breaking the water's surface, Jake's face materialized in the back of her mind, and that petulant inner voice quieted immediately.
No,Zorah insisted to her inner Omega,not him. He's not for us.
Jake couldn't be her Alpha. After all, if he were, she would know, wouldn't she? She would've known weeks ago when she first came here. Isn't that how it was supposed to work? Not only that, but her Prince Charming would never reside in a garbage truck. He also wouldn't skulk around the village, lurking and leering at her from the shadows.
The leaden weight of cold, bitter reality pooled in her stomach. Maybe she didn't have a Prince Charming. Maybe fated mateswerea fairy tale. Maybe her mother was right, and one Alpha was as good as another. Except, if that were the case — and increasingly it looked like it was — then Zorah had to choose. And what if she chose wrong?
For whatever reason, her inner Omega liked Jake. But what didsheknow? What reason did Zorah have to value her opinion? It's not like she ever helpfully counseled Zorah before. No, she'd been silent when Zorah snuck around with the Beta boy and ruined his family's life. She'd done nothing to dissuade Zorah when she ran away from home and nearly got herselfandher father killed. Where was her oh-so-helpful inner Omega then?
Zorah nuzzled Ginny's head, trying in vain to bury her nose in the infant's soft, fine hair to calm herself and displace Riddick's Alpha attar that clung to her nasal passages. She drew it into her lungs, finding comfort in the sour reek of dried spit up and the acidic tang of pee alongside her sweet baby smell. Ginny giggled as Zorah's nose nudged against the child's humid neck rolls, and Zorah did it again, eliciting a fit of giggles that broke through her anxiety.
She had to stay focused. She only had a few more weeks to figure this out, and this time, she couldn't afford to make a mistake.
CHAPTER 13
Jake
"You have to arch your back more."
Teaching Zorah to float had been a terrible idea. A good, sensible idea as far as swimming and water safety, but as far as minimizing his contact with her and keeping things purely teacher-student, a fucking nightmare.
His fingers skimmed her lower back, bumping over the dainty knobs of her spine as he gently supported her stretched-out body. Memories of his former life wafted through his mind. Laying a gentle, supportive hand on the small of his date's back, a protective, gentlemanly touch to guide them through a crowded bar. His body buzzing with the anticipation of getting them back to his place so that same hand could explore the divots and dimples under their clothes. Savoring the tease of a barely-there touch in a public area, knowing what would come later. He'd been that guy once, the guy with easy charm and a quick joke. Never a mysterious brooder like Hunter.Shit.When had he become the brooding one who couldn't make small talk with a pretty woman?
Probably around the time he became a captive laborer for those worthless pieces of shit, the Righteous Brethren. Or had it been later? When they took away the only thing keeping him somewhat attached to his humanity? His angel, his Ava.
