Page 52 of Packing for Vacation

“Fuck,” I cry, tears pricking at my eyes. These cramps and this slick aren’t just a heat spike. “Did you know it was coming?” I ask Barry. “You did, didn’t you? You good boy, you were trying to herd me back home and I didn’t listen.”

He whines again, licking my cheek, and I burst into tears, a mixture of guilt and overwhelm flooding me.

“I’m sorry Barry! Ugh.” I take a handful of deep breaths, covering my eyes as my knees sink further into the cold wet sand. “Fucking get it together, bitch,” I tell myself, breathing through another cramp. My nipples ache, and while this place is beautiful, it's now too bright, too open.

The crash of the waves is too loud.

My clothes are too tight.

I need them off. I need them off, and I need my alpha's cocks now.

“Shit.”

I’ve got no idea how long I’ve been down here for because I don’t have a phone on me and I’m fucking time blind.

I let out a frustrated scream, sweat dripping down my back, and Barry whines again, nudging me. “Go get Dad,” I tell him. He whines more, shifting his weight between his paws impatiently, and noses at my face again. “Barry,” I say, gently pushing him away. “I need you to get Scott.” They have to be back by now, surely.

He starts moving down the beach without me, only to circle back, moving behind me and trying to push me along.

“Barry.”

He barks, loud and impatient, circling me, pawing at the sand. A fresh wave comes in, washing over my bare legs this time. Barry barks again, staring directly at me, his entire body tense as the water rushes over his paws.

The water. The tide.

“Oh my god, the tide is coming in!” I look around, properly paying attention to my surroundings, and am mortified by how high the water is, licking up the sand underneath the overhanging pōhutukawa branches that line the beach. If I don’t move I’ll be underwater soon.

Barry barks again, and I can almost hear the Obviously, you idiot human! in it. This time I rise to my feet when he pushes at my back, ignoring the cramps and my overloaded senses. Barry keeps pace with me, nudging me along at intervals, water rushing around my ankles, until I’m partway up the track, well away from the sand. When another bad cramp hits I collapse on a fallen log, and this time Barry does leave me, racing up the track in a blur.

I should move.

I lie down in the grass, turning my face to the late afternoon sun, and breathe.

Chapter Twenty

Matiu

Icarry the last of the bags in from the car and add to the pile we have amassed in Scott’s bedroom. “I think we went a little overboard.”

Scott nods slowly, his hands laced together at the back of his head as he stares at all the gifts. “Yeah… I think you might be right, but you’ve gotta admit, it’s fun spoiling an omega, especially when you actually have the funds to commit to it.”

“I’m not disputing that, but we still have to wrap all of this.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that part.”

Alongside the old Christmas tree, Scott had found multiple rolls of old Christmas wrap that his mother had hoarded at some point. It’s what had reminded us that we needed to buy Lizzie gifts. Everything about this courtship has been a little rushed and a little backwards, and I’m looking forward to seeing her face as she opens all the books and cushions and blankets and other little things we know she will love. But wrapping the gifts? It’s a fucking pain in the arse.

“Maybe—”

Loud barking cuts me off, and Scott and I immediately move, jostling our way through the bedroom door. Barry is running across the lawn, up from the beach, barking in a way that immediately sits me on edge. “Where’s Lizzie?”

“Fuck.” Scott races out the door and I follow him. He’s already running towards the path, following Barry. The dog is more manic than I’ve ever seen him before, sprinting ahead and then back again, and a million worst case scenarios flip through my mind. Lizzie fallen with a broken leg, Lizzie crushed by debris from an eroding cliff face, Lizzie drowning in the ocean, Lizzie sprawled out on the wet rocks, having slipped and hit her head. The protective alpha in me is raging, illogical and hormonal. Why the fuck did we ever leave her here alone?

Scott, still jogging ahead of me, makes a noise I interpret as relief a second before the scent hits me, thick and sweet, berries laced with the most addictive drug: the slick of an omega in heat.

“Lizzie!” Scott yells as we round the last bend and find her near the beach, lying in the grass. She props herself up on her elbows, cheeks and chest flushed, her blonde hair lit like a halo and her smile full of relief. “Sweet, you scared the shit out of us.”

“Sorry!” she says sheepishly as I drop to my knees beside her. I’m trying not to let it show how gassed I am from the run, and I can tell Scott is the same, but I don’t think we’re fooling anyone given our heavy breathing.