Page 51 of Destined Predator
“Tomorrow?” Rhett raised his exhausted head. “The night’s young and there’s still something involving a paste made of strawberries blended into champagne to try.”
Casey winced. “Sounds revolting. But I’ll try anything with you. Anything, anyplace, anytime. Name it and I’m there.”
He bent to kiss Rhett’s head, where it rested in his lap, and Rhett turned in time to meet his lips. The coywolf and the rancher. Destined mates. "Forever."
"Forever,"Rhett echoed.
Epilogue
Emil told himself that a dozen times in the week leading up to leaving, even as he’d packed his bag and tuned up his truck, that he’d be back at some point. But here he was, on the last night, standing outside the barn with the moon high and the air thick with the smell of hay and summer storms, trying to find the words that wouldn’t make everything worse.
He’d been off for months now—short-tempered, restless, like his skin didn’t fit. The pack was tighter than ever, the family growing, and every day that should’ve made him happy. But it didn’t. It made him feel… unnecessary. Out of place.
Casey didn’t see it that way. Or maybe he did and was just pretending not to.
“Storm’s movin’ in,” Casey said behind him. His voice carried easily in the quiet. “You fixin’ to get struck by lightning, standin’ out here like a fence post?”
Emil didn’t turn around. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
“Bullshit.”
That was his big brother for you—never one to waste words. He came up beside Emil, close enough that the heat from him brushed against Emil’s arm. They stood that way for a while, watching the clouds roll in over the ridge.
Finally, Casey asked, “You really mean to go through with it?”
Emil nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah.”
Casey’s sigh was soft, but it hit hard. “Why?”
“I can’t breathe here, Case.” Emil scrubbed a hand over his face. “You don’t see it, but every day I wake up, I feel like I’m walkin’ around in someone else’s life. You’re the alpha, Ben’s got Jack, even Robin and Lacey got their own damn plans. I’m just…here. Eatin’ your food, swingin’ a hammer, takin’ orders.”
“Since when do you take orders from me?”
“Since always.” The words came out sharper than he meant. “You were leadin’ before any of us knew what that meant.”
Casey frowned. “So that’s what this is about? You wanna be alpha?”
“No.” Emil shook his head. “I wannaknowwho I am when I’m not standin’ in your shadow. When I’m not the youngest Akers, or the guy folks joke about losin’ his temper. I need to get outta here before I turn into someone I don’t like.”
Casey’s expression shifted—hurt, then pride, then that quiet understanding that made him impossible to hate. “You think leavin’ will fix that?”
“I don’t know.” Emil’s throat burned. “But stayin’ sure as hell won’t.”
A long pause hung between them, filled with the sound of the wind and the low rumble of thunder. Casey leaned his arms on the fence, looking out over the dark fields. “You remember when Pa used to take us ridin’ down by the creek?” he asked. “Said a horse’ll run itself to death if it don’t learn to pace its breath. You’re like that horse, Emil. You don’t know how to rest.”
“Restin’ feels too much like givin’ up.”
“Maybe you need to learn the difference.”
Emil huffed a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You sound like Ma.”
“Yeah, well, she was usually right.” Casey straightened, facing him fully now. “So where you headed?”
“Don’t know. Maybe Denver. Maybe west. Gonna find work, keep movin’ till it makes sense again.”
“And if it don’t?”
“Then I’ll keep movin’.”
