Page 23 of Wild Omegas
I catch Brooks’s gaze and then Carson’s as they must similarly arrive at the same conclusion. Josie says nothing as we climb in together, dry off, and wrap blankets around all our bodies. We lay like that in silence for a long time, with fingers idly touching Josie, hands running across her back andthighs. It’s intimate and quiet, but every touch feels weighted. Purposeful.
Until I notice something I’ve never quite had the chance to before. Josie moves fast, has from the moment she blared into our lives with a shot muffler and twisted ankle. It’s not until I’m holding her hand in my own now and inspect every inch of her available to me that I see them.
Burn scars on her fingers. A vein of it trails down that wrist, too.
“What happened?” I ask, but maybe I shouldn’t have. Not every scar is a story someone wants to share. But on an otherwise soft and strong omega, these burn scars stand out.
Josie’s body stiffens. It’s enough to tell me I fucked up. I shouldn’t have asked.
Instead of answering the question, Josie posits one of her own. “Does your pack have an omega?” She chuckles. “I mean, I’m assuming you don’t after tonight.”
Carson smiles warmly. His fingers have been tracing the swell of her hip for the last ten minutes. “No, no omega. We haven’t really been looking.”
“Life on the ranch took priority,” Brooks adds. “And honestly, we all had things that brought us here that we had to deal with.”
Carson nods in agreement even though it’s not entirely true. I’m at Wild Skies because I’ve always been here. I’ve never felt a reason to leave and go elsewhere. But Carson… Carson ran from the CEO life, retreating once a severe work-life balance nearly left him in a hospital. And Brooks? The most I know is he was working on a case in law enforcement that was dark enough to send him packing. He found his way here, and for that, I couldn’t have been more grateful.
These men are my packmates. My best friends. My brothers.
I glance down at Josie’s burn scars again. She has a right to her privacy of course, but if those weren’t an accident, I would love to have a conversation with whoeverisat fault. Scarring someone so beautiful is unacceptable.
Josie shifts on to her back so she can see all of us at once. “I understand. Wild Skies is a great place to run to when you need help.”
“That’s what your grandparents always said,” I offer.
She smiles softly.
“They’re good people,” I add.
“So are yours,” she replies.
My heart warms. Hearing her say that about two of the people I love most in this world makes this very real set of feelings for her grow. When we were kids every part of our lives just seemed to fit together. Then we grew older and she stopped coming out to Wild Skies as often. Then she disappeared altogether when she left for New York City.
Brooks shifts onto his side. “Do you have a pack?”
Josie shakes her head but her eyes are tight. “I wouldn’t be here either if I did.”
“Do you?” Carson presses again. “It matters.”
If she’s already marked or taken then not only have we greatly overstepped, I’ll also be losing the woman I love for the second time.
The woman I love.
Oh, shit. It hits me then all at once. This growing weight of warmth in my chest when I look at Josie, secrets and all. It doesn’t really matter with her other than me wanting her to feel safe enough to tell us what she’s running from. But around that weight is this blooming bond, a connection I can’t explain. No words feel adequate. It’s like a sunrise—radiant, breaking through night with wild force. Slowly at first and then all at once the sun is up and life feels bright.
That’s Josie.
Night was fine. It worked. Life before her was… what it was. Then she appeared as daybreak. Now life is bright. It has warmth and meaning and, hopefully, a future.
Josie shrugs but I can tell her words mean everything but nonchalance to her. “I had one once, yes. But we weren’t scent-matched and they preferred an omega who was. So… They let me go.”
Her words ring genuine and it makes me angrier that theyaretrue. Who would let his wild omega go? Who would be sostupid?
I cup Josie’s face and kiss her forehead. “It was their loss.”And our gain.But I don’t say it. It doesn’t feel right to say aloud no matter how true it is.
Josie shrugs again. “It’s okay, it’s better this way.” She smiles up at each of us in turn. “Don’t you think?”
I do, but I desperately hope she means what I hope she means. “Would you want to join Wild Skies pack?” The sheer amount of anxiety coiled tight at the prospect she might say no makes my words barely stronger than a whisper. My lungs simply won’t hold the air required to speak at a proper level. It’s as if everything hinges on her reply.
