The Omega's Heart (Wilde Creek Four) (4 page)

“I told him I wanted to go to my friend’s
bachelorette party, in the hopes of using it as an excuse to miss
the full moon and stay away for a while, but he said no. I snuck
out instead.”

“What about his guards? Didn’t anyone try to
stop you?”

“He doesn’t believe in guards. He’s pretty
badass. Only an idiot would try to attack him in his house, or
anywhere else. I left my cell phone because he kept installing
tracking software on it, but I didn’t have a chance to buy another
one on the road.”

Brynn frowned in thought, the silence
stretching between them. “Did your car really break down or did you
do something to it?”

“I pulled some wires.”

“Someone needs to tell Ren that so he doesn’t
waste his time messing around looking for the solution and can just
fix it.”

Panic tightened Honey’s chest as she realized
the mechanic could probably fix her car in an hour, and then she’d
have to leave. She wasn’t a pack member and she was basically on
the run.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Brynn was suddenly
sitting on the arm of the chair, wrapping her arms around Honey as
she struggled not to cry. “It’ll be okay. You don’t have to go home
if you don’t want to.”

“Brynn!” Acksel snarled her name so loudly
that Honey’s heart stopped beating for a moment.

Brynn bared blunt teeth at her mate. “Don’t
be an asshole. She’s in trouble and she needs help.”

“She’s a stranger on the run from her alpha.
Don’t invite danger into our pack.”

Brynn stood up and crossed the room to
Acksel. She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him.
“Can’t she stay through the full moon? You can call her alpha and
tell him that we’ll look after her until then. It’s not our fault
if she keeps running instead of going back home after the full
moon, is it?”

Acksel frowned deeply. “You expect me to
believe that you would just let her leave? That you wouldn’t want
to let her stay as long as she likes?”

Honey stood slowly. “I won’t. If you let me
stay for the full moon, I’ll leave Tuesday morning, I swear.”

Acksel’s eyes narrowed and she felt like she
was staring into a laser beam. Dropping her gaze to the floor, she
folded her hands in front of her and debated going to her knees to
assume the completely submissive stance her father expected of
females.

“Tuesday at dawn, you’re a ghost, do you get
me? I will call your father and let him know you’re under our
protection and that you’ll be leaving on Tuesday. Brynn’s correct.
I can’t be held responsible if you decide to go in a different
direction.”

Honey lifted her head in surprise. “Really?
You’ll let me stay?”

Acksel wrapped his arms around his mate and
said, “What can I say? My mate has a soft heart, and I wouldn’t
change that about her for anything. You’ll stay here at the garage.
I’ll make arrangements to call your father on Monday before we go
hunt. I’ll expect you to stay with guards during the hunt and to
leave town when I say. Do you agree to those terms?”

“Yes, thank you, Alpha.”

“You’re welcome.” He said the words stiffly
and stifled an aggravated sigh.

“Thank you, Alpha,” Brynn whispered coyly,
and Acksel’s aggravated sigh turned into a sultry growl.

Honey returned to the table and packed up the
remainder of the food. Zander appeared and said, “I’ll do it,
Honey.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Ren, the mechanic, walked into the room. “If
you’re done eating, Honey, I can show you the apartment.” He turned
to Acksel. “I called Sam and asked him to send two guards to watch
over the shop tonight so she’ll feel safer.”

Acksel nodded.

Honey walked up to the alphas and Brynn
hugged her. “Goodnight, Honey.”

“Thank you for dinner and for your
kindness.”

“Everyone needs a little kindness.”

Wasn’t that the damn truth?

* * * * *

The apartment was up a set of metal stairs on
the far side of the garage, with two windows that overlooked the
interior. Ren opened the door and followed her in. The lights were
already on, and she saw that he’d brought her bag and purse from
her car and set them on the couch.

“I overheard what Acksel said. You can stay
here until the full moon. The fridge isn’t stocked, but I’ll have
an omega bring breakfast and a few groceries over tomorrow. I’ll
get your car ready so you can leave on Tuesday morning. I wrote my
cell on the notepad by the phone; you can call if you need
anything.”

“Thank you, Ren.”

He looked down at her, light brown eyes
sweeping over her with a hint of lust. He was handsome and
well-built, with short, dark blond hair. Her wolf snored in
disinterest, which was probably for the best. Any tumbling between
the sheets with the handsome mechanic wouldn’t delay her inevitable
leaving on Tuesday. It was probably better to just keep her legs
closed and a lid on her libido.

He cleared his throat and said, “You’re
welcome, Honey. Goodnight.”

She locked the door when he was gone and
leaned against the cold steel door. Relief flooded through her.
Things could have gone from bad to worse in a heartbeat. Acksel
could’ve had Ren tow her car to the next town to get her out of his
hair. If not for his compassionate mate, that’s probably what he
would have done. Honey had acted very foolishly when she’d stranded
herself. It had been the stupidest thing she’d done in a long
while.

Leaving was the right thing, she was sure of
it. Her father was planning something after the full moon, and she
was certain it involved her. An inkling of impending doom had
caused her to run without too much thought. She could have gone to
Heidi and Trixie for help, but they were human, and humans didn’t
understand pack behavior. They would tell her to move out and start
her life over, but it wasn’t that simple. She’d left without her
alpha’s permission and she was purposely missing the full moon.
That alone, coupled with his express denial of her leaving, meant
he could punish her severely. She’d seen her father attack pack
males for far lesser crimes. Her grandma had shielded her from her
father’s wrath as a child, but she was alone now.

Very alone.

She missed Stacy. Stacy would’ve had a better
plan for leaving than just disabling her car and hoping for the
best. Planning was clearly not in Honey’s wheelhouse.

She hadn’t taken a shower in two days, so she
hoped like hell there was a shower in the efficiency apartment. She
moved to the couch and opened her bag, pulling out pajamas and
toiletries. The large main room held a couch, an old television on
a stand, and a desk. The kitchenette had a small refrigerator, a
two burner stove, and a sink along one wall, with a tiny round
table and two chairs. Three wooden doors stood ajar. One was a
large closet, full of dusty old clothes and shoes. She quickly shut
the door and then sneezed twice. The second door was a laundry
closet with a stackable washer and dryer. The third door,
thankfully, was the bathroom. A tiny bathroom, but with a stall
shower, toilet, and sink, so she wouldn’t complain.

It took five minutes for the water to go from
freezing cold to warm, and she ducked under the almost too chilly
spray and cleaned up. It felt good to rinse off the last two days,
to scrub her skin and wash her hair until she felt thoroughly
clean. It took her a moment to realize she hadn’t looked for towels
before she got wet. Stepping from the shower, she saw there weren’t
any on the rack on the wall. She shook out her limbs and wrung her
hair out, her skin goosebumping with the chill in the air. There
weren’t any towels in the laundry closet, either. She tapped her
fingernails on the washer lid. She didn’t want to put on her
pajamas when she was soaking wet, so she’d do the next best
thing.

Walking over to her bag, she pulled out her
travel hair dryer and plugged it into the outlet in the bathroom.
When she turned it on, the lights dimmed for a second and she
worried she was going to blow a fuse, but nothing happened. She
dried her body and then her hair, her long tresses taking a while
to dry with the low-powered travel dryer.

After dressing in her pajamas, she went to
the couch and put her duffel on the floor. She knew the couch
probably pulled out, but since there weren’t towels in the
bathroom, she was betting there weren’t sheets on the mattress.
Even if there were, she most likely wouldn’t want to sleep on them
anyway. Unpacking her grandma’s quilt from the duffel, she unfolded
it and found the items she’d taken out of her bedroom.

In all the months since Stacy had passed,
she’d never opened the diary. It had been a private recording of
her grandma’s thoughts, and it had felt intrusive. But now, sitting
in a stranger’s apartment in a strange town, she thought it would
help her feel better to connect with Stacy through the diary. It
would make her feel a little less alone, at least for a little
while.

Wrapping up in the quilt, she settled on the
couch and opened the leather-bound book. As she started to read the
first entry, dated over a year ago, she pushed away the thoughts of
what the dawn would bring.

Honey was angry at herself for not picking up
the diary before now. In the months since Stacy’s death, she’d had
plenty of opportunities to read it, but she’d never taken the time.
The pages of the diary were filled with Stacy’s fears and
suspicions, and Honey knew if she’d read the diary months ago she
would have bolted from her father sooner.

* * *

December 29th — A young male named Bruno came
to me two days ago to ask if I would approve of him taking Honey on
a date. He was very timid and sweet, and although Honey doesn’t
seem interested in dating anyone in particular, I told him that he
should ask her and see what she says. I haven’t seen him since. I
spoke to his mother this morning, and she told me that Bruno was
asked by the beta to go on a special hunting trip. A bad feeling
has settled over me. I believe that Dexter sent the young male away
to be killed in a way that would make it look like an accident. It
wouldn’t be the first time that he’s done such a thing.

* * *

February 2nd — I can’t shake the worry that
Dexter is planning something. I know he’s my son, but he’s not the
man I raised. Being alpha changed him, for the worse. When he was
little, he would sit on my lap and I’d read him stories about
heroes who always did the right thing. The male who runs the pack
is not a boy anymore. He hasn’t really been the same since Vicky
left. I write that she left, but in my heart I know she didn’t
leave voluntarily. She loved Honey. She lived for her daughter.
There’s no way on earth that she would have willingly walked away.
She was the best daughter-in-law a woman could ask for. It wasn’t
her fault that her father agreed to the mating that Dexter
demanded. Vicky was so unhappy in the mating, until she had Honey.
Then she seemed to have hope. I suspect that she’s not really off
‘whoring around’ as Dexter says. I don’t know what happened to her,
but I believe she’s not on this earth any longer. The more time
that passes, the more certain I become.

* * *

May 23rd — I can feel I’m being watched
constantly. I want to tell Honey to pack up her things and leave,
but I can’t find a time to be alone with her. Every time we’re in a
room together, just the two of us, one of Dexter’s friends barges
in. Yesterday I dropped my keys as I was getting into my car and
when I bent down to retrieve them I saw a dark puddle underneath
the car. I’m no mechanic, but I think someone cut the brake line. I
can’t explain the fear that coiled through me. I’ve been cooking my
own food for the last two weeks. After I had that bout of food
poisoning, I began to believe that Dexter was trying to poison me.
The time has come for me to take Honey and go. I should have left
with her years ago, before Dexter became such a twisted, evil
menace. He’s planning something for Honey. He’s never once shown a
fatherly love toward her, and I’ve seen the way he looks at her —
as if he could just as easily kill her as smile at her. I’m afraid
for my life, and I’m afraid for Honey’s future. There is no love
there. How will she ever be safe?

* * *

Honey looked at the date of the last entry as
chills ran down her spine. It was just a few days before Stacy
died. She closed the diary and held it against her chest, her mind
racing with all that she’d read. She hadn’t meant to read the
entire diary, but she’d been unable to put it down as Stacy
chronicled her fears and suspicions for the last year of her life.
She didn’t know why Stacy was never able to tell her what she
worried about, but she was certain that her father made very sure
that her grandmother didn’t have the opportunity.

Honey had done what Stacy had wanted — she’d
left Wyling River. She just wished that Stacy had been able to be
with her. Her mind spun as she thought about all that she’d
learned. Was Stacy right? Had her mother been harmed by her father
instead of running off as she’d always been told?

Tucked into the pages of the diary were a few
family photos; Stacy on her mating day, flowers tucked into her
curly hair. Honey’s mother, holding her pregnant belly and smiling.
Her mom holding her when she was just a baby. She cherished the
photos, all she had left of her family. Knowing that Stacy believed
her father had done something to her mother, and possibly killed
Stacy herself, made Honey grateful she’d been able to get away.
After the full moon, she would leave Wilde Creek and keep on going,
as far away from Wyling River and the male who destroyed her family
as she could possibly get.

Chapter 4

Sunday morning, Honey was woken up by gentle
knocking on the door. A young woman who identified herself as
Kammie stood with another male, with scars on his neck and cheek.
The man, who said his name was Adam, had two grocery sacks, and
Kammie held what looked like a restaurant take-out bag.