Page 41 of Black Moon

She ran ahead, messenger bag over one shoulder, hanging open and still stuffed with her clothes. She hadn’t even bothered to throw on her shirt, just rushed to follow along and open the door for us.

“Hey, Alpha,” Skye called out, chipper as if it were eight, and not three, in the morning. “Brook. Great to see you. Want to have a seat on bed number two?”

Another thing to say for Skye: he was one smart cookie. With three beds, no one ever had to ask which he meant when he said number two. And acting like it was a normal day, and not jumping straight to drama and sympathy? Given the way Brook’s shoulders loosened, and he nodded, it was exactly what we’d needed.

He didn’t meet anyone’s eye when he pulled himself up onto the middle bed. After a moment, he mumbled to me, “Do you have to look?”

I took his hand in mine and squeezed it lightly. “I should. To make sure everything is healing right.”

He still didn’t look up, just nodded.

“Do you want Claudia here? Skye? Or I could call Shiloh or your mom.”

Before I finished that last, he was already shaking his head. “Not Shy and Mom. I don’t...I don’t want to see them.” He pursed his lips and turned away. “I know I have to and I—just not tonight, please?”

“Of course,” Claud agreed. “Do you want me to stay? Or are you okay with the alpha and Skye? I can go talk to your mom and Shiloh. Let them know what’s going on, but that you’re not ready to see them yet.”

“They won’t understand,” he whispered. It sounded to me like he didn’t understand, so of course there was no reason they should.

Claudia came over and ran a hand through his hair. “I do, sweetie. And I’ll make them understand too. Unless you want me to stay.”

He shook his head, but then paused, biting his lip. “What about the omega who came for me? Colt?”

“He’s on his way here now.” As I said the words, I heard Colt’s Prius in the parking lot. The things were so darn quiet I almost missed it. “He’s arriving. Did you not want him?”

“No, I do.” His eyes went wide and shot up to meet mine for a second. “If—if that’s okay, Alpha.”

I drew his hand up to lay against my heart, an old-fashioned gesture wolves often used when making a vow—sort of a way of saying “Feel how steady my heartbeat is. This is the truth.”

“I am fine with anyone you want in here. And you can always call me Linden, Brook. We went to high school together. We’re friends. We always will be.”

Once again, his face crumpled and he dove into my chest, wrapping his arms around my neck and clinging to me.

I vaguely heard Claudia whispering something to Colt and Skye as she dressed and left the clinic, but for a long while, all I could do was hold Brook, running a gentle hand along his back and letting him cry.

22

Colt

Right there under the surface, my wolf was snarling, baring his fangs, ready to rip through any Reid with tooth and fang for hurting Brook Morgan.

When I came into the clinic, slipping past Claudia, who only paused long enough to give me a tight-lipped, worried look, and tell me where she was going, all I saw was Brook clinging to Linden. The alpha looked lost and devastated. Skye stood there, chewing on his lip and anxiously cleaning the lenses of his glasses.

All of this was wrong, and the beast inside of me wanted to do something about it. And all those violent urges disappeared when Brook raised his head and looked at me with those startling blue eyes.

“Colt?”

He looked older here in the light of the clinic than he had outdoors—not old, exactly, but when you heard about a kidnapped omega, most people thought of nubile virgins whisked away by villains. Brook was a grown man—I’d guess in his early thirties, but omegas usually looked a little young.

I stepped in, and when he held out his hand, I grabbed it. “Hey, Brook.”

His shifting attention allowed Linden to go to a side cabinet and return with one of those pastel hospital gowns you tied in the back, but the alpha seemed hesitant to offer it.

I snatched it out of his arms. “Cute. Time for a physical?”

Skye stared at me. Linden frowned. And I unfolded the gown and held it up to myself. “What do you think? Height of fashion, in my book.”

Brook gave me a warbly little laugh. “Fit for the runway.”

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