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"Rue." Zorah turned back to her friend. "You've moved into the Omega bunkhouse, right?" Rue dipped her chin in a wary nod. "I need a favor. I want to move into your tent before they take it down."
Rue shifted uncomfortably. "Why?"
"That's not important." Rue flashed her a cross glance, and Zorah leaned in closer. "If anyone asks you, tell them I asked if I could use your tent since you've moved into the Omega bunkhouse, and you said yes. Just tell the truth, that's all you have to do."
Rue chewed her lower lip, her eyes sinking to her entirely cleaned plate. "You're moving out of Lars and Grace's cabin? They said it was okay?"
"Yes," Zorah said in absolute truth.
Using every last scrap of the positive goodwill Zorah earned from Nico's incident, she'd pitched a change in her sleeping arrangement to Grace. Her proposal was simple: Zorah wanted to spend more time with Rue in her remaining few weeks in Morris Hill, and since she was busy with the kids during the day, it would be a lot easier to see her friend if she went to bunk with Rue in her tent. That way, they could spend time together and Zorah wouldn't risk waking the children when she returned from socializing late into the night. If she failed to mention that Rue had already moved into the Omega bunkhouse and vacated her tent, well, that must've slipped her mind. Since Omegas were trickling into the bunkhouse as the beds were assembled, a busy mom like Grace would never keep track of who slept where on any given night.
Permission to sleep in Rue's tent afforded her freedom to come and go as she pleased as well as a plausible explanation for her daytime fatigue. A perfect, elegant, simple solution.
That required Rue's cooperation.
"I don't want to get into trouble," Rue whispered, "with the Alphas. If someone asks —"
"You tell them it was all my idea," Zorah said, emphatic. "I'll take all the blame."
A bead of bright red blood appeared on the plump center of Rue's lower lip, the inevitable result of her near-constant gnawing. "But... butwhy?"
Zorah gave Rue a speaking look and hid her response in a quick sip of water. "It's probably better if you don't know."
Rue's face folded in on itself, and her teeth assaulted her poor lip some more. "You know I'm going to worry," she admitted, with a wry hitch in her abused mouth.
Zorah nudged Rue with a friendly elbow. "You're always worried."
"Well, that's true." Rue clutched Zorah's arm; her grip surprisingly strong for such a slight Omega. "I hope you know what you're doing," she whispered.
"Hey, Zorah." Her name, called in a rich Alpha baritone, broke the moment, and Zorah turned to see a smiling Duncan squatting at her side. His eyes flicked over her shoulder toward Rue. "Rue."
Rue muttered something that might be construed as a greeting before turning her attention to worrying a hangnail on her thumb. Automatically, Zorah grabbed her friend's hand, holding it tight to keep Rue from shredding her skin and bleeding all over her pants. Alphas made Rue exceedingly nervous, and the blood stains streaked on her pants from prior cuticle massacres testified to that fact. Zorah couldn't stand any more bloodshed over dinner.
"Did you just get back?" Zorah asked.
Duncan and Alek had left on a supply run a few weeks back, a fact Zorah knew but hadn't much considered. No one seemed particularly stressed about it, at any rate.
Duncan's fathomless brown eyes hopped back to hers, his rich brown skin burnished red and gold by the setting sun streaming in through a window. Another handsome, unmated Alpha. She took in his broad, barrel chest, his long arms with thickly corded forearms, and his enormous hands. A fleeting fantasy of those big hands on her body formed, but in the next breath, she caught a whiff of his scent, as strong and musky as Riddick's and reading to her sensitive nose as wrong, wrong,wrong. Her inner Omega silently affirmed it with a dismissivehumph, not even bothered to put her distaste into words, the unhelpful brat.
"Yeah." He grinned and snagged a carrot off her plate to munch on. "Right after lunch. I didn't have a chance this afternoon to give you the news."
Alarm stiffened her spine. "News? What news?"
He finished chewing. "We came back by River Bend, and your parents said to tell you they're right behind. They should be here within two weeks, and they're bringing Nelson with them."
Zorah's ears rang, as if wanting to drown out the bad news. Two weeks? Her parents would be here intwo weeks? WithNelson? Her chest seized up, choking off her breath. Two weeks and she'd be submitting to Nelson's slimy touch. Two weeks and she'd be trapped in her home village, forever nit-picked by her mother and Nelson in unrelenting tandem.
She stupidly stared at Duncan's placid face, unsure what her face was doing while her mind stuttered on the fact that after three months in a village full of unmated males, shestillcouldn't find a suitable mate. Another whiff of Duncan's scent crossed her nose, and her dinner curdled in her stomach, supercharging her panic.
What was wrong withhim? Or Riddick? Or any of them? Why wasn't it more obvious to her which one she should choose?
Two weeks, two weeks. The words tolled in her brain like a death knell.
Maybe, underneath all her bravado and gumption, all her fanciful plans, shewasLittle Zorah, stumbling around and making a mess of her whole life. This was running away all over again: good intentions come to naught. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
She was going to be sick. She looked from Duncan's pleasant face to Rue's concerned one. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well."
Duncan's brow gathered tight, and he leaned toward her, dousing her in another wave of olfactory unpleasantness. Zorah held her breath, not wanting to allow any more of it inside her body.
