Page 36 of Leave Me
As we crossed onto King land and approached the pack house, Fowler lifted his hand to point at a dirt path in the opposite direction. Instead of the well-worn path to the family house, we took a narrow trail through the woods, higher and higher.
Branches caught in our pants, but I didn’t stop until we reached an old hunting cabin I remembered exploring with him as a child. It was full dark now, the almost-full moon hanging low and glowing in the east, just above the building we parked in front of.
He set the kickstand and got off, helping me before pulling his phone out.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, unsure of anything in my world and wanting at least one answer.
Fowler, who had been typing away on his phone, pocketed the device and took his helmet from me. Setting it aside, he held my hands and met my eyes. There was a fierce protectiveness in them, and I basked in his attention.
“This is the middle of the pack land. If the other shifters try to enter, there will be bigger problems for them to deal with.”
“Okay. Who were you texting?”
“Rel, to make sure he warns the twins and Kono to stay away, along with any other alphas.” He rubbed his beard and started walking me tothe one-room cabin I hoped still had running water. “I also messaged Channing.”
“Why? No one needs to know about my…” I trailed off, unwilling to admit my predicament out loud.
“To let her know what was happening, and bring supplies,” he admitted with a blush that ruddied his cheeks above the thick beard. “Plus, she can tell Gramps and Uncle Clark.”
“Shit. Everyone is going to know,” I complained, biting my lip as we walked onto the rickety wooden deck. “Is this place safe?”
“It’s where Chan rides out her heats,” Fowler explained, pushing the door open. “And they need to know so we can keep you safe.”
Stepping into the cabin, I saw it was mostly the same as I remembered. On one wall, there was a bed big enough for two, and a kitchenette was along the back wall. I also remembered there being a three-piece bathroom opposite the bed.
Fowler rubbed the back of his neck and walked to the sink to check that it worked. He let out a sigh of relief I echoed when it sputtered and then let out a flow of clear water. “It’s no four-star resort, but you’ll be safer than staying in public.”
He was talking like he was about to leave me here to figure my first heat out on my own.
“I will be?”
“Yes, of course,” Fowler insisted, misunderstanding my words as he pulled me close. “The pack will monitor the land on foot, and the town on bike. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“No.” I shook my head and walked to sit on the bed. “I mean, yes, that’s good. But do you think I’m going to sit here alone?”
“I don’t know exactly what an omega does,” Fowler admitted, the crease between his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
Everything in me said this man was meant to be mine, and I also wanted to ride him into next week. With my heat approaching, I didn’t know whether that was my normal hard-on for Fowler or my new hormones talking.
Stepping to stand between my legs, Fowler opened his mouth to say something, then stopped to tilt his head towards the door. “Go to the bathroom.”
Huffing, I was going to say no until he explained, but the sound of someone approaching on a motorcycle had me rushing to follow his command. His superior hearing caught the threat before I did, and I needed to start listening without questioning. The problem was that I always questioned everything.
The bike engine settled into an idle rumble a few seconds before the sound of footsteps on the porch reached me. I was more shifter than human, according to Kono, and I wondered if I also had better senses than I knew. I’d always been around shifters growing up, so compared to them, I always felt inadequate.
Holding my breath, I focused and noticed I could hear the rapid breathing of whoever was on the porch. There was the brushing of fingers over a screen, and then the buzz of a phone through the solid wood door.
Had I always been able to hear so well, or was it my presentation? I thought back to hearing conversations through a phone speaker that the other person didn’t know I could hear. Smelling things others didn’t seem to notice. I wore glasses, but only for reading.
The steps retreated from the door without my hearing a knock, and the motorcycle drove away before I heard the door open and close again moments later. Fowler opened the bathroom door to find me leaning against the sink vanity.
“Channing dropped off supplies,” he told me, holding open the door of the closet-sized room.
Brushing past him, I heard him bite back a moan at my proximity as I found a box at the small dining table next to the door. On top were clean towels and sheets, and I grabbed a towel before tossing the sheets to Fowler.
“She said there’s some food, and she’d drop off more in the morning,” he pointed to a bag of chips and some beef jerky.
“Dinner of champions?” I quipped, setting the food on the table before hovering my hand over the item in clear plastic at the bottom.
