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Cal's chin dipped in a nod. "He couldn't have known he'd find his mate here. Fate works in strange ways." Cal slid an affectionate glance at Della and then caught Hunter's eye. "It's fine with me, Hunt, if you don't hold to the agreement. It was made in the heat of the moment, maybe we can take it with a grain of salt."
"Or a whole fucking quarry," Simon muttered and resumed his slouch against the doorframe.
Jake flashed him a grateful look. Maybe he should've tried harder to get to know the guy earlier. If he lived through this and got his girl back, he'd make a point to correct that. He glanced around the rest of the room, his heart swelling with the support voiced for his position. Kess. Della. Colt. Cal. Simon. None of them had any reason to offer him consideration or grace, yet, unbelievably, they had.
Jake lifted his eyes to the still-scowling Matteo. The Alpha had been one of Zorah's more persistent suitors, so he came by his sour grapes honestly. "What say you?"
Matteo tossed a dismissive shoulder. "I'm not one to hold a grudge; if Cal and Simon are okay with it, then I am, too."
Relief percolating, Jake turned his attention to their leader, the moment so close to being over, so close to being able to focus on getting back to Zorah. "You were ready to burn a city to the ground to find your Omega," Jake said quietly. "You would've done anything to get her back" — Hunter's blue eyes turned to ice with the memory — "why would it be any different for me? Nothing's gonna keep me from her, Paul. So, if that's gonna be a problem, you might as well kill me here and now because I'm not gonna give up on her. Not now. Not ever."
Jake shut his mouth, awaiting judgment. He'd used his friend's old name, the one he'd used when they were much younger men in a much different world. That world was far from this one, but the Paul Hunter that sat by his side, drinking cervezas and eating fish tacos, wasn't different from the man in front of him. Jake wasn't the enemy, and he trusted Hunter could see that truth as well as he could.
With a wry tilt to his lips, the Alpha of Alphas quirked a brow at his Second. "I gotta stop making pronouncements about what Alphas can and can't do around here. Every time I do, the whole thing bites me in the ass and I look like an asshole who doesn't know shit about anything."
Della snorted. "Maybe that's true."
The group exchanged an easy chuckle at the barb, and Jake drew a breath, renewed impatience skating under his skin. "So... you're not going to kill me?"
Hunter lifted a brow. "Not unless you want me to. Is that what you want?"
"It's not," Jake said firmly. "And I'm not just saying that to save my own skin. I know you, dude, and I'm not sure you could stand yourself after doing something like that, no matter how nice your life is now."
Hunter's face softened, and he gave a little bob of his chin. "Della's right, though. This is bigger than me and you and Kess. I ain't gonna kill you, but you need to do one more thing: take it to the Pack, convince them this is a good idea."
CHAPTER 38
Jake
"It's a huge risk." Duncan, finished with his remarks, sat down and tipped his head toward Cal for a quiet exchange.
Side conversations continued in every corner of the mess hall, every Pack member present and possessing their own opinion on the proposition to retrieve Zorah from River Bend. The debate raged, unabated, for the better part of an hour with no signs of slowing.
Wedged between Hunter and Colt, Jake bounced his leg in unrestrained agitation. He'd given his bare-bones explanation of the situation — Zorah was his mate, he needed to retrieve her, and he could use the Pack's help — but this circling discussion was getting them nowhere. He stared out the window and grimaced at the fading daylight. At this rate, even if they decided to help him, between organizing the group and gathering supplies, they'd never get on the road today. Every lost minute was a glass shard inserted under his skin.
Near ready to implode with impatience, Jake folded his fingers over his palm, using the other thumb to crack each scarred knuckle in grim sequence. Colt slid him a quelling look, but he continued to pop his joints, pointedly looking again to the fast-falling dusk. Why had Hunter insisted on this little community meeting? Like Jake had said in the cabin, he'd made up his mind, so if the Pack didn't have his back on this, he'd sneak Zorah outMission: Impossiblestyle himself. If he acted alone, Morris Hill could disavow any knowledge and keep the peace with River Bend. An imperfect solution, but one he would turn to in a heartbeat. One he was ready to turn to right fucking now.
From a nearby table, Xavi rose from his bench. "Look, I got nothing against Jake, or Zorah, for that matter, but the fact remains, we've got more Omegas, more pups on the way, and we're rolling into winter with a pantry not as stocked as it should be. Making a claim on River Bend's prize Omega will definitely cut off our trade with them and may even start an outright war. I'm not sure we can handle that right now."
"Come on, Xavi," Colt said smoothly, without any ire. "They're so pampered in their little enclave, they wouldn't know how to start a war with us if they wanted to."
"We dispatched the last pack of assholes," Sloan piped up from the back of the room. "Let 'em try and see how well it goes."
"We were lucky," Xavi said, narrowing his eyes at Sloan before sitting again. "You really want to try our luck a second time?"
Jostling at another table drew his attention as Grace got to her feet. She was a diminutive woman, yet the group quieted as she handed off her smallest child — the baby squirming in Zorah's arms that first night — to her mate. None of the Omegas had spoken yet in favor or against. Even Della had uncharacteristically held her tongue, but he intercepted the worried glances she threw in his direction throughout the discussion.
"Mate or no mate, we never should've let Zorah go," Grace said. "Those people are" — her lips turned white with repressed outrage — "horrible, to put it mildly. The women aren't allowed to have opinions or wear pants, for pity's sake. Zorah didn't even know how to stave off a pregnancy."
A few stifled, feminine gasps peppered the air.
"But how are we gonna replace what we get from them?" Logan levered halfway out of his seat. "Not just food, but glass and nails and clothes... all kinds of stuff."
"I don't know," Grace snapped. "But you think fuckingnailsare more important than an Omega's life? Her freedom to choose her own mate?" A chagrined hush fell over the crowd, and the baby began squalling for her mother. Without breaking Logan's gaze, she accepted the child back into her arms, bouncing gently to settle her. "Jake and Zorah saved Nico. We can't forget that. So, in my opinion, we owe them both to set this right."
With a dignified nod, Grace took her seat. Lars bestowed a kiss on her temple first, then on his Omega daughter's. Jake's heart squeezed at the display of familial affection. He didn't want to wish for it; he didn't want to tempt fate or risk getting his hopes up only to have them dashed again. He could wrestle down the blind hope, but the longing... The elemental yearning for stability and comfort and peace swept through him like the strongest undertow in the entire Pacific.
In his chest, the bond fluttered with dull, tarnished energy, a weak reflection of the strong feeling coursing in his veins. Could Zorah feel this? Feel his agitation and resolve? Or was it too late? He needed to get out of here. He couldn't listen to another second of discussion around trade issues, not when his Omega's fate hung in the balance. Jake knit his fingers together so tight the bones creaked and filled the bond with solace.Just hold on. I'm coming. Soon.
