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Hastily, Zorah plaited her hair and threw on the stiffly dried shirt and shorts she'd swam in. Maybe he'd been thoughtful in leaving them, although it felt much more like, "and take your stuff and get out."
A child's shriek cut across the air, and Zorah froze, fully realizing for the first time that she was back in the village proper and that it had stopped raining. Given the sunlight streaming into the room, the village would be in full swing of midday activity, especially if they'd been holed up for days due to the rainstorm.
Holding her breath, she cracked the door open and peeked around the corner, hanging back in case anyone happened to be passing by. As expected, Morris Hill residents scattered across the pathways and green areas, all heading in different directions, looking busy with days of backed-up work. She jerked her head back inside and eyed the forest beyond the backdoor to the Heat Hut. Jake had likely slipped in and out that way; no way would he risk cutting across the middle of the camp with an unconscious Omega in his arms. She would do the same, skirt the perimeter of the cabins until she hit the path to the lake. If she was quiet, she might miss everyone. If not, she'd deal with it then.
She'd risked much more for much less many, many times before.
CHAPTER 32
Zorah
The slope up to Jake's cabin pitched at a taxing angle, and Zorah's Heat-ravaged body complained the entire way. Her thighs burned as her bare feet slipped and squished in the mud. It didn't matter, she'd get cleaned up eventually, and what was a little mud on top of everything else pasted on her skin? Determination suffused her. They would figure this out, they simply had to.
Huffing and puffing, she crested the hill right as Jake came around the corner of his cabin. He startled and nearly dropped the large boulder gripped between his hands.
His eyes cut away; face contorted into an aggrieved scowl. "What're you doing here?"
Zorah charged forward, mud splattering under her angry stomps, annoyed he held the rock before him like some kind of shield.
"You know why," she said tightly.
Turning his back, he dumped the rock next to the stump he used for chopping wood, picked up a hammer and chisel, and began chipping chunks off the rock. Each scraping blow resounded in her chest, and the bond vibrated with unhappiness; some of it his, most of it hers.
"You shouldn't be here," he said between clinking, grating strikes.
"And why not?" she demanded, pacing into the hammer's arc to force him to stop and face her. Which he did, his eyes cast down and his hammer-wielding hand dropped to his side with an air of defeat. "How could you dump me in that shack without a word?"
He hissed a sigh, tilting his head up to the sky, still looking anywhere but at her. The rejection upon rejection gouged into her resolve. She needed more than this. Needed him to engage, at least.
His voice grew thick. "This is never going to work, Zorah."
Zorah shook her head, strands escaping from the sloppily-woven braid. "It's too late." She pounded her chest. "We're mates. I'm sorry if it came as a shock, I'm sorry you didn't agree beforehand, but Jake..." She stepped closer, grabbing his free hand to lay it against her breast. "I chose you. I don'twantanother Alpha."
The familiarity and warmth of his skin urged her forward, the bond sparkling with recognition and encouragement.
His calloused palm shaped itself to her body, and Jake's face crumpled in pain. "You don't mean that."
"Ido. Tell me why, why can't we have this? Because of Ava? Or your episodes? Or the Pack? I don't care about any of that. Idon't."
His thumb swiped a soft arc over her sternum, and Zorah hated how much meaning she wanted to take from that smallest and most paltry of gestures. But he merely shook his head in abject defeat.
"You're worried about Hunter," Zorah said, striving for a reasonable tone. "So explain it to him. You didn't pursue me. You didn't mean for this to happen, and I want this, too. He must be able to understand."
Jake dropped the hammer with a bitter laugh. "Della and Cal tried to explain and look what happened to them. That's how reasonable Hunter can be." He pulled away from her and sat on the wood-chopping stump, looking so tired and weary that, for one second, Zorah almost doubted her conviction. "Being an Alpha hasn't been the best ride for me, but I'd like to keep what's left of me intact if it's all the same to you."
"That was different and you know it," Zorah snapped. "Cal abducted Della, he stole her from her home in the middle of the night. This is a totally different situation."
Jake's shoulders curved inward. "I don't think the Pack will see it that way. If Hunter doesn't kill me, one of the others will. And what about your parents and your intended? What about the relationship between the two Packs? What's the plan there?"
"I don't know! This was my plan! Find an Alpha and I thought I did that." Tears welled up as he finally raised his head look her full in the face. Zorah peered at him through a blurry haze, misery blanketing the warm golden glow of the bond as her words spilled out. "Why won't you fight for me? For us? You wished you had fought harder for Ava, so why are you giving up on me?" Salty drops streamed down her cheeks, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. "I'mright here."
"Zorah." His roughened whisper brimmed with pain and longing to match her own.
He reached for her waist, pulling her to stand between his knees. The sobs ripped out of her then. Big, ugly tears that shook her shoulders and overtook everything. Turmoil crashed over Jake's face as he rubbed at her hips, her arms, shushing and purring to quiet her sobs.
She leaned closer to him, craving his warmth, his comfort, his purr with every fiber of her heart, unable to believe that this might truly be the end. His roughened, work-dirty hands rose to cup her cheeks, and he pulled her close till their foreheads met.
"Sweetheart," he whispered, the moniker so soft and delicate, the susurrations of the trees echoed it like an approving chorus.
