Page 118 of Omega's Heart
Hunter just grinned up at me, his tongue lolling as he panted. Fine, be on his side.
Kaden waited until I was in the elevator before he said, “So, Honisloonz. Where do you want me to start?”
“Wherever you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.” He paused and then in a low voice, he added, “Thank you.”
I blew a raspberry at the phone. “Talk, weird alpha.”
He chuckled again and began to tell his story.
C H A P T E R 6 5
T he only thing that saved us from breaking the curfew laws was that the time zones changed somewhere along our route. Abel drove like his life depended on it, only stopping for gas. If we needed to go to the bathroom, we had to do it then, because he wasn’t stopping for anything else. We had food packed in the van and we ate on the road.
Conveniently, I’d put the cooler with our food in it on the seat next to Veronica, who I’d casually arranged to have sit right behind the driver’s seat. So it was me, Fan, and Hunter in the back of the van. Everyone else who was going from Mercy Hills got to fly out later that day.
I had to admit, I was a little jealous. But I didn’t want to leave Hunter behind with people he didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to try to fight with the airline about bringing him in the cabin with us.
Veronica had complained about the undignified speed of the trip and how we should have left yesterday and stopped somewhere for the night, but I knew she was secretly relieved not to fly. I still didn’t quite know what to do about her—it would make Kaden unhappy if he thought he had to choose between us, but I wasn’t going to live my life under her paw. Not even for Kaden, Lysoonka bless him for being the best mate an omega could ever ask for. At least he didn’t expect me to, but I knew it would bother him if we couldn’t find some common ground to stand on.
I got through the day by being very boring, taking everything she said at face value, and enjoying those moments when Abel would catch her eye in the rearview mirror and shake his head. I did feel bad for Bax, though. He’d started off the morning as cheerful as a lark, but by noon he’d gone tight-lipped and silent, nose buried in one of his books with a focus that refused to be shaken unless Fan needed him. Which, being a teenager, Fan most certainly did not—at least, according to the young wolf himself.
At about nine-thirty that night, we stopped at a gas station for our last fill-up. We were still twenty minutes from the enclave, but Abel wasn’t willing to risk running out of gas.
“Bax, are you okay to run in and pay while I pump?” he said quietly.
“Of course,” Bax told him, subtle relief in his expression. “I’ll be fine. Who do you think pumped my gas when I first came to Mercy Hills?”
“That’s my omega,” Abel replied with satisfaction. “But it’s getting dark.”
“I’ll go with you,” I offered, knowing that Abel was right in his unspoken warning about nighttime wandering. Bax wouldn’t want to take his pup into the store to pay at this time of night without knowing the area. “Hunter needs to stretch his legs.” I pretended not to notice Veronica’s look of relief as we wormed our way out of the van.
Bax waited for us so we could cross the rapidly darkening parking lot together. “These country gas stations are hit or miss unless things have changed,” he warned me.
“They should be fine here. They’re close enough to the enclave that we probably stop here a lot.” I’d never been here before, having only left the enclave once in my life before my move to Mercy Hills, but I knew we had pack members who regularly worked in the city about an hour away. Still, I fingered the tabs on my collar, unused as I was to having to wear them. They felt heavier than they actually were—I supposed it was psychological on my part, to give them a weight that was more than the physical part.
Behind us, Abel clunked and rattled things against the van, putting gas into the tank, I assumed. “I’m going to take Hunter over on that grass and see if he’ll go for me,” I told Bax. “Come with me?”
Bax nodded and we strolled along behind Hunter as he sniffed and stared at everything around him, big ears swiveling to catch the tiniest sounds. He stayed closer to us than he would have at home, I noticed, and I wondered if he was playing the alpha in our little pack.
Hunter did his business and then we let him sniff around a little longer to give Abel enough time to fill the van’s tank before we went into the store to pay.
“He’s supposed to have his tabs on,” the human behind the counter said, almost as soon as we walked through the door. “Even in wolf form.”
“He’s not a shifter,” I explained. “Hunter, come here. Stop sniffing things.” He’d discovered the display of beef jerky on the counter and was watching it with avarice.
“What is he, then?”
I glanced from the human to Hunter and back again. “A soldier. Retired. Medical discharge. Don’t get too close—he’s got PTSD. It makes him a little jumpy.” I gave Hunter the eye when he started inching toward the jerky again, until he reluctantly came back to sit beside me. “We took him in when the Army couldn’t find a home for him.” I bent down and straightened his bandana so his old military name badge showed where I’d sewn it in place. “My bet—” No, humans didn’t call it that. “My fiance is missing a leg too. It seemed logical.”
The human stared at the name tag doubtfully for a moment, until Bax broke the spell by holding out several twenty dollar bills. “Pump two,” Bax said firmly. “The gray van.” The human jumped, then made Bax’s change with absent-minded dexterity, most of his attention still on Hunter staring longingly at the jerky.
“We need to go,” Bax said gently. “We’re going to miss curfew.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said politely to the human behind the counter.
“Wait!” he called after us before we could get more than a few steps in the direction of the door. “Here.” He rounded the end of the counter and shoved a couple of packages of the jerky into my hands, then crouched down to Hunter’s height.
