Page 46 of Black Moon

I was trying—and mostly failing—not to think about how wide and dark Linden’s eyes had gotten when I’d none-too-gracefully asked him to mount me.

Okay, so I was taking all the romance out of the thing. But that was reasonable, right? I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and involve messy feelings when I was already scared of feeling out of control. We weren’t romantically involved, and with Brook there, scared and hurt, it was hard to feel anything too soft and fluttery about the world around us.

So that didn’t explain why I was thinking about the softness of Linden’s lips, the day-old golden stubble on his sharp jaw, or how I wanted to climb into one of his ridiculous sweaters with him.

He was the kind of wolf—the kind of alpha—that his packknitfor. It was precious in a way I wasn’t prepared to handle, and until my head was back on straight, I wasn’t giving an inch to any cozy, warm, enamored sentiments toward Linden Grove.

Maybe he was Prince Charming, in real life, but when I was this close to my heat, there was no way I was trusting any crush that came on this fast.

I’d packed my things into two bags—my suitcase, and a duffle for just the things I’d need right away. Back at the clinic, I left the suitcase in the trunk of my car and hefted the duffle on my shoulder. Grove House was close enough that I figured we’d just walk, and I wasn’t sure how I even felt about parking my Prius in front of Linden’s house for the duration of my heat. It was, like, a thing that people in small towns gossiped, and I didn’t want to be at the center of any of it.

I had to knock on the clinic door when I got back, and there was a note on the door saying Linden would be conducting business at Grove House. For a second, I felt guilty for inconveniencing him.

And it only took me that one second to realize the entire world didn’t revolve around me and my quivering omega body. If Linden was moving his business out of the clinic, that meant he was trying to make space for Brook.

Linden let me in. Skye and Brook were still talking by the bed, and I set my duffle bag by the door.

“Thanks,” I muttered to Linden.

“Of course.” Two words, but he said them so seriously that it was like he was promising me the world.

I caught his eye, the subtle way he breathed in deeper when I came in, and—and maybe I wasn’t the only one affected here. Good. I’d hate to think he wasn’t the least bit excited to have me in his bed.

Not the time for that, though. If I had to leave, I figured I could make one more offering to make Brook’s stay here more comfortable.

“So, I brought snacks,” I announced as I dug in my duffle bag for the bag of honey barbecue twists, Skittles, and Snickers bars that I’d bought over the course of days at the motel.

Brook didn’t hesitate to snatch a chocolate bar out of my hand when I brought them over, but Skye politely declined.

“Also, trashy magazines.” I waved them around and set them on the little table by Brook’s bed. “Maybe not the best entertainment, but we take what we can get on the road.”

“Are you, like, a traveling salesman or something?” Brook asked.

And weirdly, considering what we’d just gone through together, I realized he didn’t know a single thing about me except my name.

“Journalist, actually. Just in town for a little while.”

“Because—” Worry sparked in Brook’s eyes for a second, and I realized he thought I might be writing about him.

“Nope,” I answered immediately. “I mean, unless you want me to write something about you, your story is your business. Skye here’s just been helping me figure out how omegas can deal with the Condition better.”

“Oh.” Brook relaxed again, back against the pillows.

And at once, Skye started to tell Brook all about his new blog, the things he was going to put up there. He asked for Brook’s thoughts, and if he thought his sisters would want to do any posts about female omegas.

I stepped away and tried to ignore the heat crawling up the back of my neck. It was soon now, too soon, and I needed to get somewhere I wouldn’t bowl a traumatized omega over with the scent of pheromones.

Suddenly, there was scratching at the door, almost like a cat who wanted to come inside.

I cocked a brow at Linden. He shrugged, so I went to open the door.

A small black wolf came barreling past me, bumping into my shins and otherwise ignoring me entirely. She yipped, Brook gasped and sat up, but that was as far as he got before she leaped onto the bed.

She sniffed at his face, pawing with one foot at his chest. Finally, she stepped around on his lap in a circle. Dissatisfied, she turned back the other way and flopped over, curled in a ball in Brook’s lap.

“I think that’s my cue,” I whispered to Linden. “I’ll see you later. Take all the time you need.”

I squeezed his wrist and let him go, slipping out to walk across the lawn and down the sidewalk to Grove House.

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