“We’re almost there,” Rhys says.
I don’t know whether to feel comforted or not. Maybe we’re almost to safety, ormaybeI’m approaching my final resting place. Either way, I’ll bet the view up here is fantastic when there isn’t a blizzard turning the entire landscape white.
“Do you think the snow will stop in time for me to check out the view before I’m gone?” I ask, choosing my words carefully. I’m 50/50 on leaving dead versus alive.
Rhys takes a deep breath, then laughs. “What kind of gentleman would I be if you left without appreciating everything my home has to offer?”
I’m not sure if that’s a real answer; I’m not sure that I care.
Did he mean to sound so suggestive, or am I reading too much into an innocent statement? Either way, I’m absolutely swooning. Is this how he wins over all of his murder victims? If so, someone go ahead and sign my death certificate.
I wonder if he’ll tie me up first if I ask nicely.
“Here we are,” Rhys announces before I manage to get a handle on my wild imagination. “Just in time for the snow to be slowing down.” He chuckles under his breath.
The snow is only a light flurry as Rhys drives the truck at a creeping pace toward a modest-sized building. I’m surprised the layer of snow over the house and ground only appears to be a few inches. The rapid snowfall from before was a little misleading. I expected to be at least knee-deep in snow drifts out here.
I’m disappointed that I don’t have an excuse to ask the yummy-smelling alpha to carry me to the door and over the threshold.
“This looks nice.” The warm lights illuminating the side of the building seem welcoming, hints of the stone that makes up the exterior peeking out where the snow didn’t stick under the edge of the roof.
“Thanks,” Rhys says. “My dad and I built this garage together when I was a teenager.”
“Garage?”
“Yeah...” Rhys arches the truck around the building, and I catch a glimpse of the garage door as he drives past. “Andthisis my home.”
My jaw goes slack as I lean forward to get a better look at the huge home that dominates the entire span of the windshield, even before we pull all the way up next to the front porch. The place isn’t quite a mini-mansion, but it’s much more than the shack in the woods I worried about.
The two-story house is made of a deep, mahogany-colored wood that sits on top of a stone foundation. One side is almost entirely made of glass, with huge windows overlooking a gap in the trees where I can just barely make out a view of the mountain below through the snow.
Rhys parks the truck and releases his seat belt, so I follow suit. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him turn in his seat to study me.
“This is a big house to live in all alone.” I look over skeptically to meet his gaze. He’s not wearing a ring and hasn’t mentioned a partner, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. Why didn’t I find a way to ask on the way up here? What if there’s a gorgeous omega waiting for him inside, ready to look down her nose at the stray Rhys rescued and brought home?
His slow nod seems reluctant. “That’s why I don’t live here all alone.”
A sharp pain tears through my chest. I think this news might be more devastating than fearing Rhys would turn out to be a serial killer and me his next victim. At leastthatpossibility gave me a little more one-on-one time with this man whose every move I’m acutely aware of.
“Let’s get you inside.” Rhys averts his gaze as he grabs his coat from behind his seat and slides his arms in. He exits the truck, leaving me to scramble out of the passenger seat after him. My shoes do little to protect me from the snowy ground, and my socks get wet after only a few steps as I hurry to catch up to him.
“Who else lives here with you?” I manage to choke out before we reach the front door. I want to prepare myself.
Instead of answering, Rhys reaches out to grab my hand, cupping his palm around mine and tugging me closer to his side. He offers a rueful smile down at me as we reach the stairs, slowly ascending even as I’m acutely aware he hasn’t answered me. His steps seem to grow even slower as we cross the dry, covered porch and stop at the wooden front door. He seemed so sure about bringing me home until now, his eyes searching mine for answers I don’t have to questions I don’t know.
Rhys squeezes my hand. “Don’t freak out, my little snow bunny. There are two people I want you to meet.”
Rhys sounds so natural calling mesnow bunnythat I can’t believe he hasn’t been around calling me by that nickname my whole life.
Wait…
Two people? There are already two people at his house? Does he have two girlfriends? Weird mountain people roommates? Initial members of a cult he’s forming? Two more soon-to-be serial killer victims? Who are these people, and why are they here?
Don’t freak out?Why would I freak out?
Before I can ask, Rhys releases my hand so he can turn the handle of the front door. We both inhale sharply as he pushes the door open, two startled faces turning to greet us as the door slams into the wall with a bang.
“Belle, I want you to meet Percy and Knox... my packmates.”