Page 31 of Omega Hunted

“Your baby could come early,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Winter’s not anywhere near ending, and the bridge is closed.”

“I know.”

He stared at the phone, then at me. “There’s a real chance we’re stuck here when it happens.”

“I won’t go to a hospital anyway.”

I thought he might argue, or order me, or force me to do what he wanted; instead, he tilted his head, and his eyes shone amber, a sure sign his wolf was close to the surface. That should have scared me and sent my cat running, but instead there was this feeling I couldn’t pin down. Acceptance? Peace? I didn’t know what the hell it was. “I’ll do it on my own.”

He winced. “I’ll be there to help, although I’ve never delivered a baby,” he said, “Brec is sending through a whole load of information, so if we work through that together, we should make sense of what might happen if you go into labor early. Do you think we can work together?”

I considered the question. “Until the snow clears and I can leave,” I asked—demanded, albeit softly and respectfully just in case—but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“Yes,” he said, and I didn’t have to be an expert to know he was lying or maybe evading the truth. He clicked through what he’d been sent. “Okay, for the birth kit. I can source most of it in the house; the rest we’ll have to make do until the bridge…” He glanced up. “Until you can leave.” He was already elsewhere—logistics, the list. “I’ll need to know your pain pattern. When your uhm… when you feel…”

“Like the baby is coming.”

“Yes. As soon as pain changes—not when you decide it might mean something, when it changes—you tell me first.”

“Okay,” I said, because I had no option.

Cassian filled a glass of water, put it in front of me. I drank it. He went back to the counter and stood there, working through his phone, and I sat with my hands around the empty glass.

For all Cassian’s pretty words about not hurting me, I didn’t feel safe.

Chapter Twelve

CASSIAN

Soren was on the couch when I came back through, and the orange juice was gone. He had his eyes closed. Not asleep—his breathing was too shallow for sleep, and his hand was still moving in slow circles over his belly—but resting, which was the next best thing, I guess.

I stood in the doorway for a moment and then went upstairs to my room. I opened the window a crack to stir the air, then changed the sheets and blankets before coming back down.

“You can keep my bedroom,” I said, and Soren opened his eyes. “It has the attached bathroom, the fire is good, and the bed will be better for your back. Only if that doesn’t upset your cat. I’ve changed the sheets, but the scent might still⁠—”

“No,” he said. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

I rushed ahead before he argued with me. “I won’t come into your room at any point unless you ask me to.”

He pushed himself upright with a groan, but he didn’t ask for my help, so I stayed still. I was a grown-ass man who wasn’t going to listen to my wolf, who was suddenly insisting we should carry him. The fuck?

“Where will you sleep.”

“In my fur,” I said, matter of fact. “There’s a closet at the top of the stairs,” I continued. “Extra blankets, pillows. Take whatever you need to build a nest if you want one, I mean if that is something your cat… I don’t know… maybe I read it somewhere and…” I stopped, embarrassed. “Just help yourself to whatever.”

“Okay.” He was standing now, one hand on the back of the couch. “I’m going to go to the room.”

I nodded toward the stairs. “Go. I’ll find everything I can on Brec’s list.”

Soren went toward the hall and then stopped, seeming nervous, before pulling his shoulders back. “The door key is hard to get to work,” he said.

My chest hurt. My wolf was affronted that the omega didn’t trust us, but I shoved him back.

“Lift the key a little while you turn it,” I said. “Until you feel it catch. Then it locks. There’s only one key. I won’t come in unless there’s an emergency and believe me I’d have to break the door down to kill that lock.”