Page 64 of His Forsaken Alpha

Wynter nodded but said nothing, the first signs of shock appearing.

Cav gave him one last look before cracking the door slowly and peeking into the corridor. There were other alphas peeping out of their doors, a few others in the corridor, looking outside the wall of windows to see what was going on. Cav turned to Wynter and held out his palm. “Wait here a second.”

“Cavanaugh,”Wynter whispered, hand tightening on his arm.

“I just need to look at the other side of the train,” Cavanaugh whispered. “And if we have a clear path to get into the woods.”

Wynter frowned, near tears. “Okay.”

Cav closed the door and moved to the window, near another alpha. “What’s going on?”

“Wildling attack,” the alpha said.

“Is anyone going to protect the omegas?”

The alpha shrugged. “I’m not putting my life in danger against those wild men. My omega is safe at home, just as these others should be.”

Alphahole.Cav turned to eye the dozen or so alphas just standing around, watching the chaos outside. Part of him felt the need to race out and help but his gaze went to his cabin door and the man he knew was behind it.

Breaking glass sounded. Cav whipped open the door of their cabin just as Wynter began to scream. He charged forward, punching the alpha attempting to drag his omega through the window. The Wildling wouldn’t let go, no matter how many times Cav punched him from his higher vantage point. He paused a couple of seconds, eyeing the cabin.

Shattered glass.

He grabbed a large piece before plunging it into the Wildling’s arm.

The Wildling roared with pain, releasing Wynter.

“Come on!”

Cav dragged Wynter out into the corridor behind him. They exited the car, the crunch of freshly fallen snow under their feet as they raced toward the fence on the mountain side of the tracks—which was half bent over from the force of the Wildings shoving their way across it en masse. Wynter stumbled behind him, falling to the icy ground. He spun, noting a lone Wildling had seen Wynter and began to approach. Without another thought, he tossed Wynter over one shoulder and jumped on top of the bent, hanging fence before leaping onto the ground on the other side.

Fifty feet stood between them and the forest. Inside there, they could hide—though Wynter’s heat would make that harder. He raced as fast as he could force his legs to move. Unwilling to look over his shoulder to waste a single second, he pushed with every ounce of strength.

“Go! Go! He’s chasing us!”Wynter bellowed.

Cav pushed harder, clearing the edge of the forest and slipping amongst the trees. He moved another thirty feet inside and stopped behind a thick, towering oak. He lowered Wynter to the ground. He pressed his finger over his own lips, a soundless entreaty to remain silent. Urging Wynter to lie on the ground, he snagged some fallen pine branches and placed them over his mate, hoping the pine aroma might throw the Wildling’s heat-scenting ability off.

As soon as Wynter was nearly covered in branches, he peeked around the edge of the tree. The other alpha was close, almost catching him before he whipped himself back. Searching the ground, he noticed a thick oak branch. Hefting it in one hand, he prepared to protect his mate.

Peeking around the edge again, he didn’t see the alpha. He searched around them but found nothing. No way had the Wildling given up. When he slumped back toward Wynter, he saw his omega in the arms of the other alpha. One big, dirty hand covered his omega’s mouth.

Wynter’s eyes were huge, tears shining in them. Cav inched forward, the branch clutched in his grasp.

“He’sminenow,” the Wildling muttered, grinning wickedly.

“Never,”Cavanaugh sneered, baring his teeth. His mind spun, remembering the things he’d learned in his years with the Wildlings.

Show no fear. Don’t do the expected. Fight like a wild beast.

The alpha bared his, as well, hissing. He released his hold, only to grab Wynter by the throat. “Back away—or we both lose.”

Ice pulsed through Cav’s veins. He knew it was a bluff. A Wildling would fight to the death for an omega, especially one like Wynter.

Only the Wildling likely didn’t realize he’d do the same.

He lowered the branch slowly…

All while reaching into his back pocket with his other hand and hoping his pocketknife hadn’t fallen out in his race to bed Wynter. When his fingertips hit metal, he could’ve sighed with relief.

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