Page 21 of Omega's Bears

Chapter Thirteen

What do you do whenevery member of your clan has imprinted on you? How do you negotiate that situation when, as far as you can tell, none of them are talking to the others about it?

I handle it by staying away from the others as much as possible. In the evenings when they return from the hunt, I grab the water skin and run down to the water to refill it, taking the longest possible route. I account for my long absences by telling them I’m hunting for new berry bushes. I don’t know whether they believe my excuse—I catch Jack giving me a funny look once, and I know that if any of them visited the river, they would see that the berries there are plentiful and that I don’t need an alternative source. But no one questions me.

In part, that’s probably because Jack and Luka have some idea of why I’m staying away. I haven’t spoken to them about it—I don’t dare—but I have to imagine they’ve pieced it together anyway. They both know they’ve imprinted on me, although I highly doubt they know about each other. But they both know Ryan imprinted first, and they know that I know that.

It’s strange being the one with the most information. I’m not used to it. In my old clan, the others generally discussed important things without me and made decisions without my input. I didn’t mind. I was the omega, after all, the one with the lowest status, so it only made sense for me to stay in my lane and do as I was told. But I have to admit now that, as complicated as things have become, there’s a part of me that likes knowing everything and being in what feels like a powerful position. It’s scary—it would be easy to make a decision that would be wrong for all of us and create friction and division among the clan. But at least that decision won’t be made for me. It would be simpler if the men all got together and decided whom I should belong to, but I like that—for now, at least—I have the controlling vote.

Not that I’m doing anything with my power. I haven’t spoken to any of them about our situation. I eat meals with the group, but the conversation never goes any deeper than how that day’s hunt was or what I saw on my walks. I take pains not to be by myself with any of them, even though I’m aching to do it. I want to find myself alone in the woods with Jack again. I want to sit down with Luka and talk about what we both know happened. And Ryan remains a huge unsolved mystery. Our bond is the only publicly acknowledged one, so why hasn’t he acted on it?

Three days have gone by since Luka imprinted, and I still don’t have any answers. I make my way out of the cave after the men have left for the hunt, my mind racing. I’ve been preoccupied for days, and the only way I’ve been able to settle to sleep each night is by exhausting my body. I’m planning on a circuitous hike up the mountain. Maybe I really will return with some new fruits to supplement our diet. I know pears grow in the Alaskan wild sometimes, and my mouth waters at the very thought of them. That would be a perfect contrast to our usual fare of berries.

I’ve barely emerged from the cave and stepped into the sunlight, however, before a voice calls out to me. “Cami.”

I’m so on edge that I spin around sharp and so fast that I nearly fall over. My reflexes may be heightened by adrenaline and anxiety, but I’m still the same omega, uselessly tripping all over myself. My cheeks grow hot as I take in Luka leaning effortlessly against a nearby tree. Amusement is written all over his face as he regards me, but he makes an effort to rearrange his features when he sees I’m embarrassed. “Sorry,” he says, coming over. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You shouldn’t sneak up on a person you don’t mean to startle,” I say, wishing heartily that he wasn’t here. I haven’t been alone with Luka in three days. We both know why that is.

“I didn’t sneak up on you,” Luka points out. “I was standing over there in plain sight. You didn’t see me.”

“You weren’t hiding?”

“I was standing right there.” He shakes his head. “We need to work on your threat awareness.” Then he seems to hear what he’s saying, and he backtracks. “Not that I’m a threat! That’s not what I meant. Oh, hell, this is coming out wrong.”

Now who’s awkward? I want to comment on it, but I decide to be the bigger person and let it go. “It’s all right,” I tell him. “I didn’t take it as a threat. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t,” he agrees.

“Uh-huh.” Seems like we’re on the same page, then. Was he just waiting outside the cave to tell me he wouldn’t hurt me? That seems like a strange choice. I wonder whether I can just turn and walk away, but something in me seems to be gluing me to the spot. He’s looking at me like he has answers, like everything I’ve been wondering and everything that’s been keeping me up at night is going to be resolved in his eyes. I could use some answers. I stay put.

“You’ve been out,” Luka says, “every day.”

“I...I was looking for—”

“No you weren’t,” he cuts me off. “You weren’t looking for anything. We have plenty of everything. We have so much meat that we could probably go into hibernation. Haven’t you noticed that we’re not even bringing anything back from the hunts anymore? We go out to run around and stretch our legs, just like you do. We’re not after fresh meat.”

I hadn’t noticed. I guess I’ve been more preoccupied than I thought. But I don’t say anything. What is there to say? I examine the ground, afraid to meet his eyes.

“Cami,” he says quietly, “why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” I lie.

“Look at me, then.” He waits. “You can’t even do it, can you?”

“Luka, why are you doing this?” I can’t understand it. He knows perfectly well why I’ve been avoiding him. He must. He isn’t stupid.

“I want you to say it,” he says quietly. He takes a step closer, and suddenly, I’m aware that there is almost no distance at all between our bodies. The electricity between us snaps so hard I can practically hear it. I want to turn and run. I want to give in to the sudden rush of temptation and pull his body to mine. But I’m frozen.

Luka continues to speak. “I want to hear you say it,” he says, his voice very low now. He hardly sounds like Luka at all any more. Luka is my friend. Luka is kind and welcoming. But there’s an edge to his voice now, something hard and demanding. I’m transfixed. He’s closer than ever. Did he move in, or did I?

“Say it,” he says, and it’s an order, and even though he’s not my alpha, he’s just a beta, I find myself wanting to obey.

“You imprinted,” I whisper, my head rising, my eyes finding his.

“And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nod anyway.

---