Page 7 of Bite

I can immediately decipher that their group is made of two alphas, one beta, and one omega. There’s nothing deceptive in their scents, but one in particular seems to linger in my nose and zap along my skin. It’s earthy, like rain-soaked trees, but underneath is a warm, spicy layer, like honey with a bite.

River says something to them, but I can’t quite make out the words, and worse, the stranger’s drugging scent is distracting me. Ferris’s warm body moves closer to mine, bringing with it his tangy tea scent. I feel his breath on my ear before he whispers, “River has requested that they submit to an eye test before moving forward into the compound.”

There’s something tingly about the way Ferris’s scent dances in the air with the mystery one, almost like they’re playing a game, or fighting. I can only nod in response and try to tamp down my body’s desire to perfume at such an inopportune time. To distract myself, I finally raise my eyes to take in the group of travelers.

On the far right is a tall, muscular man with cinnamon-colored hair pulled back in a braid. Every visible inch of his warm ivory skin is covered in freckles. His tidy beard is a few shades darker than his hair, and he has one green eye and one brown one. When he catches me looking, the green one winks, making me blush. Definitely an alpha.

Next to him is a smaller man, coming up to only his shoulder. His dark-brown hair is pushed back, and his face is clean-shaven, making his olive complexion appear luminous in the afternoon sun. He’s so pretty; he must be an omega. He stands close to the woman on his other side, who scans the small, gathered crowd with icy blue eyes full of cunning and apprehension. Her short blonde hair is tied up on top of her head with pieces falling out to frame her pale, pointed face.

Lastly, my eyes take in the giant man who is speaking directly to River. He’s taller than anyone in the group, with broad, muscled shoulders that gently taper to a thick waist and powerful legs. His dark-blond hair is cut close to his scalp, making his gray-blue eyes appear severe against his lightly tanned skin. His beard is less tame than his companion’s, which adds to the wildness that seems to emanate from his body. I don’t even need to smell him directly to know that the spicy honey and rain-soaked forest scent is his. He looks like a creature that belongs deep in the Wilds.

He smirks at something, revealing one of the biggest canine teeth I’ve ever seen on an alpha, and my skin burns in response. Everything about him screams power, dominance, and strength, yet his scent feels like nothing but comfort. All I can think about is how amazing it would be to curl up against his massive chest. I manage to bite back the omega whimper trying to claw up my throat, but I unfortunately cannot stop my small burst of perfume.

Immediately, the alpha’s storm cloud eyes find mine, and his nostrils twitch with awareness. He stares at me with an odd, yet exciting intensity, almost like he’s trying to memorize my face. He says something to River, but his eyes don’t leave mine until River holds up his small solar flashlight to check the alpha’s eyes.

Biters have the same reflective eyeshine as predatory animals like coyotes or bobcats. One of the first signs that a person has been bitten is the development of that eyeshine, easily detectable with a simple flashlight test. So, in instances where it’s impolite to ask someone to strip so that their body can be checked for bites or creeping black veins, a light test is the best alternative.

Each member of the group submits to River’s test. Once they pass, River leads the group over to where Ferris, me, and a few other community members are standing.

“I’d like to first introduce you to my family,” River says. “This is my packmate, Ferris, and this is my little sister and ward, Raine.”

Up close, my suspicions are proven correct—that mouthwatering scent belongs to the massive alpha with intense eyes. He maintains eye contact as he holds out his hand to me in greeting. When I put my hand in his, prepared for a shake, he shocks me by lifting my hand to his lips and softly pressing a sweet kiss to the inside of my wrist. Right over the delicate scent gland there.

“Raine, a pleasure,” he says in a voice so deep and velvety, I shiver. He releases my hand and I have to remind myself to breathe. He turns slightly toward Ferris, extending his hand for a more appropriate shake, but instead it turns into a ferocious game of something.

Their scents and dominance pheromones swirl around me, nearly choking me with their heady weight. It should be threatening, making me cower in submission, but instead, all I feel is thick, confusing desire. I clear my throat, hoping to snap them out of it and stop them before slick starts pouring down my legs, but all I accomplish is their gazes simultaneously snapping to me.

I try to focus as River completes the introductions by naming each member of the convoy, starting with Tore, the freckled alpha. Next to him is the male omega, Koda, then the beta woman, Aspen, and lastly, the alpha that dared to kiss my wrist. “Dair, Alpha of the Cascade Clan.”

My breath whooshes from my lungs as I whisper, “Dair.”

[ 6 ]

DAIR

The Wilds, west of Grand Prairie

“Gods, I hope this goes quickly. I’m ready to get home. Why is everything so fucking flat here?” Aspen grunts from behind me.

“You’re not looking forward to a couple nights of sleep in an actual bed?” Koda asks her.

She scoffs. “Only if the bed is mine.”

Tore laughs like he always does, deep and booming. Of all of us, he’s always the most free-spirited, which helps to alleviate Aspen’s chronic pessimism, Koda’s anxieties, and my propensity to be too severe.

“We’re nearly done with our expedition,” I reassure them. “At least we’re out of the Wastes, yeah? Let’s enjoy their hospitality while we can because we still have to trek all the way back.”

The group collectively groans, even Tore. Despite my pleas for the group to remain patient, as the Alpha representative for the Northern Pacific Clans, I’m also ready to get in, make an alliance, finish setting up the network of trade here in the Midlands, gather the info we need, and get the fuck out.

It’ll take a good fifteen days or more of hiking and camping before we cross back into the western territories where we can catch a ride back to wolf lands. We should all try to rest as much as we can in the compound because I plan on setting a near-brutal pace. We’ve been away for so long that it’s become an ache, and both my wolf and I are past ready to be home.

Tore would never say it, but I know he’s anxious too. Aspen and Koda aren’t shifters, so they don’t feel the same pull to the earth that we do. My wolf has been starving for our land, wanting to feel the loamy soil between our paws and sleep in our den while the trees weave our dreams.

For most of this journey, we’ve only seen barren landscapes, decimated cities, and paved roads stretching as far as the eye can see. Once you pass the eastern Rockies, the green of the northwest tapers out into a barren hellscape. The native prairies that used to stretch from mountain range to mountain range are still trying to recover from years of desperate farming, rapid development, and drought. The few forested areas we passed through were sparse and young, nothing like the wonders of the old-growth that my wolf is used to. Nature is trying its damnedest to grow around all the abandoned technology despite the altered climate, but it takes time.

Now that we’re near the Great River that splits the continent, the landscape has improved. It’s actually astonishing how much nature has healed here too, although not nearly as much as back home. Eighty-some years ago, before the Switch, it was considered a miracle to see wildlife this close to a city. Now, if you’re quiet enough, the wildlife will pour around you, incorporating you into the natural world. Just in the last day, we’ve seen deer tracks and have heard the blissful notes of bird song.

“Ahead,” Tore says, pulling me out of my head.