*Unknown number has added you to a chat. Mark as spam?*

Micah

This is Micah. I know we already exchanged numbers but I figured it would be good for us to have group text in case Emma needs anything.

Gunnar

Makes sense.

Zane

you can all save my name under Drop Dead Gorgeous

*Gunnar has changed Zane’s name to Drop Dead*

Gunnar

Got it.

*Zane has changed Gunnar’s name to Stick Up Our Butts*

Drop Dead

I might be the pain in your asses, but Gunnar’s definitely the stick.

*Micah changed Drop Dead’s name in this chat to Zane*

*Micah changed Stick Up Our Butts name in this chat to Gunnar*

Micah

You guys are exhausting

Can we at least attempt to get along for Emma’s sake?

Knox

How are you all texting me in the same message?

Zane

oh my god

he’s kidding right?

RIGHT??

Knox, man, say psych right now.

Gunnar

It’s called a group text, gramps

Micah

So we can all talk at the same time

Knox

Follow-up question:

Why?

Gunnar

JFC

Knox

You’re probably lucky I have no idea what that means.


“Motherfucking, dumb-as-shit, pain-in-the-ass—”

Under different circumstances, I might laugh. Knox hasn’t stopped muttering since we got in my truck and peeled out, spitting a low tirade the whole ride up to the washed-out portion of the road.

I can’t tell if he’s holding out hope that the path may still be passable or resigned to having all of us stranded at his place. If the feverish feeling blooming under my skin is any indication, I’m relieved none of us can get very far.

Being away from Emma for this twenty-minute excursion is making me almost as crazy as knowing that I left her back at another alpha’s house with two strangers. The need to return to her beats alongside my pulse, filling my blood with urgency that edges my scent.

Knox shoots me a murderous look when he notices, and I snort. “This is my truck.” I laugh, the sound flat. “If you wanted to be in charge, you should have stayed back at your compound.”

His face says it all: he doesn’t want to be in charge.

He doesn’t want any of this.

Which is a shame, because he’s the only one I trust around Emma and the only one I could conceivably form a pack with.

That fact that my thoughts continue to flicker back to that place—along with the way it felt to be inside her earlier—tells me what I need to know. This omega is mine. The notion of letting Zane or Gunnar disappear with her guts me.

There’s a chance she’d prefer them, though. After the way I nearly knotted her and then lost my nerve when Gunnar showed up… I probably made her feel every bit as rejected as that stupid hockey player did. Or—worse—the pack she just ran away from.

Knox senses my darkening mood and stops muttering long enough to shoot me some side-eye. “Worrying won’t help,” he grumbles. “She’s going to choose whichever one of you her Omega tells her to.”

I raise a brow. “One of us? So, not you?”

He sighs, scratching at his beard. “What the hell would a sweet little thing like her want with me? I’m old as dirt compared to all of you. And she’s clearly a social woman who’s used to a big family. Being stuck up here with me and my damn dog isn’t much of a life for a little miss like her.”

Emma hasn’t had the chance to give a lot of details, but she did manage to drop tidbits about coming from a big family, her siblings and friends, and her former job as an elementary school guidance counselor. All those things align with the picture Knox paints—a vibrant, upbeat person who enjoys the company of others and likes to be around children.

“You could have kids,” I mumble, imagining it.

Emma would look so damn pretty pregnant. I’ve only seen her smile a few times, but somehow, it feels natural to picture her round and glowing with happiness.

The thought enriches my scent for a whole different reason. I can’t help but notice that Knox’s woody aroma is thicker, too. He likes the idea of breeding the cute, kind-hearted omega as much as I do.

The realization helps me clear my throat and add the piece I’ve been waiting to mention, “Or you could replace some packmates.”

At first, he chuffs a dismissive scoff, scowling at the windshield as white flakes pile onto my truck’s hood. When I don’t go on, his gaze snaps over the center console.

“Or you could,” he returns. “It’d be easy for you. You work with half a dozen unbonded alphas. Take Emma into town and see if she likes any of them.”

I’m not sure why his suggestion puts a frown on my face. Possibly because it feels ridiculous, when I know for a fact there are three other alphas she’s already attracted to.

“If I wanted to be in a pack with any of the other alphas in town, I probably wouldn’t have waited so long,” I muse. “Most of the guys at the station are younger than me. Not ready to settle and all that.”

“Mm.” It’s hard to tell if he’s disapproving or contemplative. “Zane strikes me as one of those.”

God, that guy. He’s a hot mess.

Very hot, apparently, if the way Emma stares at him is any indication.

Still, he hung in with me during her heat-spike. I don’t understand why he froze up instead of taking her himself, but he did a decent enough job of getting her off while her perfect, wet pussy strangled my cock.

I wince, rearranging the crotch of my pants and trying not to full-on cringe when I recall the way I reacted after it was over. The truth isn’t macho or flattering, but I honestly felt like she’d snatched my soul straight out of my body when she came around me and covered me in her slick.

Having her scramble away so quickly, hearing that another alpha had driven through the night to replace her and essentially rescue her from me was devastating. I didn’t know how to react until I realized that being in my head was making her feel insecure.

The way her needs have already—automatically—started to feel like my own is another sign.

What do I do?

If she even picks me out of the group vying for her attention… we live in different states.

Maybe I ask her to stay? Or I offer to go with her? I can work as a firefighter anywhere. I’d miss my brother a lot, but we could visit…

Shit.

I’ve known her for hours and this is the way my thoughts are turning? If Zane and Gunnar feel the same way, it may not matter how dedicated either of them are to remaining bachelors. They might not have a choice anymore.

There’s a chance none of us do.

“Zane’s not so bad,” I allow, swallowing the wad of dread in my throat. When Knox shoots me a look, I grimace. Needing to convince myself as much as him, I add, “Your dog likes him, anyway.”

The older alpha grunts. “There is that. He likes Emma, too. And that Gunnar kid.”

I try for a smile. “Maybe he isn’t such a good judge of character after all.”

With another shake of his head, Knox replies, “Gunnar seems protective of her. Didn’t let her brother upset her and didn’t promise to bring her back against her will. I guess all of that’s a good sign. Although, he did leave her last year.”

Silence descends while we both chew on that.

It’s true. Gunnar did leave her. The thought of that fills me with outrage.

But, if I let Emma go… am I really any better?

I feel Knox thinking the same thing. The cab of my truck suddenly smells like a forest fire in the dead of winter—the driest, most frigid frost and smoldering tinder.

The washed-out portion of the road comes into view. I jerk my truck to a stop. We both sit forward, peering out into the heavy snowfall.

There’s a good chance I won’t be able to let Emma go.

Literally.

Because we’re really fucking stuck.

I know we’ve both had the same thought for the second time in ten seconds when Knox very succinctly sighs, “Goddamn it.”

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