Page 12 of Pack Fever

Then we’re gone, and we’ve left behind everything.

One day, I’ll return, but most likely, it will be when I’m pregnant and with my Alphas… I can’t even comprehend that. It scares the hell out of me.

In truth, today is the second worst day of my life—the day I lost my father still burns fiercely in my memory. But to have my family torn away, to feel my world breaking away from me as I’m carted off like a criminal… it’s a fresh, raw wound I doubt I’ll ever heal from.

The grunt of the engine and the rhythm of the wheels against the wet road are the only sounds inside the bus. Outside, a storm rages, as if the heavens are furious. We’ve been driving for hours, the road stretching out forever. Thunder cracks violently, and I flinch in my seat, my skin coated in goosebumps. Large drops of rain roll down the bus windows.

I’m brought too close to the memory of that other storm that haunts my dreams—the one that took my dad.

I shift in my seat uncomfortably. Rumors say the Nexus facility is days away from our place, in a location so remote, I sometimes wonder if all the things I hear about it are more myth than reality.

As another boom rocks everything, my stomach knots, and guilt gnaws at me. Maybe if I hadn’t insisted we go to the stupid audition, my dad would still be with us. And maybe I wouldn’t have gone out and the enforcers wouldn’t have caught me, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be on this bus.

Groaning internally, I chew on the corner of my lower lip, dropping my gaze to my hands in my lap, twisting my fingers over one another just like Mom.

I feel trapped—in my own skin, in my situation, in this world—feeling as if there’s no way out, and somehow, I have to suffocate in this straitjacket, or I’ll lose my mind.

Casey places her hand over mine and tightens her hold. She knows about the accident, about how rain affects me, but it’s been years, and I hate to bring it up too often. There’s only so much someone can take with talking endlessly about grief.

I glance up at my friend and force a quirk at the corners of my mouth in an attempt to show her I’m fine.

“On the bright side, we don’t have to worry about traffic on our way to our… deluxe accommodation, right?”

Casey gives me a half-smile, her eyes filled with affection. “You don’t need to pretend with me, babe,” she says softly.

I remember all those times I’ve been there for Casey, when her brother, an Alpha, stepping into his prime at twenty-five years old, was on the hunt for his Omega. He was rejected by Nexus as a potential Alpha for their females. His lack of bank funds made him not worthy. He’s been depressed, seeing the majority of Omegas go through the facility. Though there are situations where some Omegas meet up with Alphas during their heat before Nexus claims them, it’s extremely unlikely. I wish him all the luck, though it has put stress on their home life while he juggles jobs to build up his wealth.

Even if Alphas can be with both Betas and Omegas, there’s something primal inside these dominant men that call them to Omegas. It’s a well-known fact that Alphas can only knot inside an Omega but not inside Betas, and that experience provides the ultimate mating bond. Something we’re taught at Omega school, but I suspect reading about it will be very different to experiencing it.

“Thanks.” I lean my head against Casey’s shoulder. “I think I needed to hear that.”

Across from us, Kayla and Jess are deep in conversation, probably not even noticing it’s storming outside.

“We’ll get through this,” Casey whispers.

I nod as we hold on to each other.

The storm hasn’t let up, and if anything, it’s grown fiercer as the day leans into the late afternoon. The sky’s a heavy blanket of dark storm clouds as we drive along a winding road that’s descending, snaking its way through the dense woods.

Cars pass us occasionally, their headlights piercing the gloom before they vanish around the next bend. I grip the seat in front of me in a death hold, and as we go around a sharp curve, I glance back to see how many more cars we’re holding up.

There’s only one. A massive pickup truck, black with tinted windows and too dark to make out the driver, but it's the kind of truck that should have the antlers of a freshly caught deer strapped to its grill. They’re gaining on us too quickly, and my gut turns that they’ll slide right off the road.

I’m not the only one watching them. So are the two enforcers.

Turning back around, I focus on the road ahead, unease creeping under my skin.

We sway with every turn, and every now and then, our back tires slide across the wet road. I can’t stop the images of my dad’s accident from flashing in my mind, the screech of tires on wet asphalt.

Then, in a split second, there’s a loud, dull thump and the feeling of us being struck by something solid from behind. We all lurch forward, crashing into the seat in front of us, seeing there are no seatbelts on the bus. My heart’s in my throat, and a whimper dances in my throat.

“What the fuck!” Casey mutters.

The bus pitches forward quickly, tires losing their grip as we slide all over the place, fishtailing as we go downhill.

A scream pulses past my throat as the driver yells something at us I don’t hear.

We’re careening sideways as Casey finds my hand.

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