"I didn't ask you what you should do. I want to know what you want."
Emily shrugged helplessly. How could he ask her that? Her autonomy had been ripped away from her the day she set foot in the Boundarylands. It had been so long since she had made a choice of her own that she couldn't even say for certain if she wanted to live or die anymore.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do. Do you really want to go back to the man who did that to your face?"
Emily automatically touched her cheek where Sloan's last blow had drawn blood. She resisted the urge to scoff—it was nothing compared to some of the other souvenirs he'd left her with.
Of course, the beating Sloan would deliver when they were back together would be his worst yet…one she might not recover from. But that didn't mean she was any safer with Cade.
"How do I know that I'd be any better off with you?"
The muscles along Cade's jaw tightened. Emily wasn't sure if it was because he was offended or simply because she'd mouthed off. "You'll just have to trust me."
Emily let out a little burst of laughter, but there was no humor in it. The thought of trusting anyone in the Boundarylands—let alone an unmated alpha—was completely ridiculous.
"I already promised that I wouldn't let anyone hurt you ever again," Cade said sharply.
So she had offended him. Emily understood. She didn't like being called a liar either.
"It really doesn't matter what I want or what you promise," she told him. "Either I go back to Sloan on my own, or he'll come and get me, and you don't want to be around when he does."
Cade smiled with lazy amusement. He might be a cocky fool, but Emily couldn't quite manage to completely dismiss him. Just another thing to blame on those damn eyes of his, like pools of molten gold set into tawny skin. This time when he took a step toward her, Emily stayed put.
"I'm pretty sure that the bastard learned his lesson the first time I knocked him out cold."
Emily regained enough of her composure to roll her eyes. "You must have blindsided him. Because trust me, that alpha can hit hard."
Cade's brash confidence vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, dark fury that sent shivers up Emily's spine. Even during his worst rages, Sloan never looked as terrifying as Cade did at this moment.
Emily was briefly gripped by the instinct to turn and escape his wrath, but then she realized something amazing.
Cade wasn't angry at her. He was angry for her.
"Don't call that scumbag an alpha," he snarled. "He doesn't deserve his God-given nature. No real alpha would ever go after someone who can't fight back, let alone hurt an omega. That sorry excuse for a man is just a worm. No—I take that back. Worms have purpose. They fit into the world. That son of a bitch is just garbage on the side of the road."
Speechless, Emily gaped at Cade. He’d just said everything she'd ever secretly thought about Sloan but never dared to put into words.
A strange longing crept under Emily's skin--to reach out and touch Cade, to take his hand, cup his cheek, drink in his lies. She wished she could at least tell him how much it meant to her to hear someone else say what she didn't even dare to whisper.
Instead, Emily balled her hands tightly at her side, fighting off the dangerous dual advances of hope and trust. A single moment of connection didn't erase two months of hell, she reminded herself.
But…maybe there was something in between.
"I don't want to go back to Sloan." Emily whispered the admission, as though even here, in the depths of the woods, her tormentor might hear her.
Cade simply nodded. Before she could react, he lifted her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest.
"What are you doing?" Emily yelped.
"What does it look like? You hurt your knee. I'm carrying you back to the truck."
Cade had noticed that she’d hurt herself?
Emily bit back the demand to be put down. He was right. She had hurt her knee…and it felt good to be carried. That was why Emily made sure to hold herself stiffly as far as possible from the alluring warmth of his warm, broad chest.
Feeling good was for other girls.
Chapter Six
Emily sat up a little straighter in her seat when Cade pulled up in front of the wood-shingled house at the end of the drive.
It wasn't a showplace—no home magazine would ever feature it on its cover. It might never receive any architectural awards, but it looked sturdy, well-constructed, and built to last.
She could tell at a glance that Cade was a better carpenter than Sloan would ever be.
Designed in a simple one-story ranch style, the house had a rustic vibe, but its remote setting deep in the forest allowed it to take advantage of beautiful vistas of the surrounding redwoods and mountains in the distance.
It was as stunning as the view she had in her old place.
Not Sloan's house, of course, but her place: the condo she had rented before she came to the Boundarylands, overlooking Vancouver Harbor.
She had loved her old home for the sense of safety and comfort it provided. She loved its clean white walls, the soft carpet underneath her bare toes, the incredible view of the boats bobbing in the sparkling water, even the sea birds swooping and diving outside her window.
But like every other beta who lived in the hustle and bustle of city life, she never appreciated what she had until it was gone. Now, instead of take-out meals and museum trips and movie nights, there was only endless drudgery with no one but her tormentor for company and nowhere to go. Nothing to do but work, eat, sleep, and survive however she could.
Alphas had no use for museums and movies, no taste for food that they didn't grow or kill. And omegas existed only to serve their other appetites. No matter how well constructed Cade's cabin might be, it would never look like anything but a prison to Emily.
She stuffed the memory of her former home back into the recesses of her mind and got out of the truck, since she couldn't exactly stay there forever. But as she took her first step toward the door, Cade appeared at her side and picked her up again without comment.
Emily should have known that he wouldn't let her hobble into the house, but he was only wasting his energy. Omegas didn't need to be coddled. She would soon heal on her own.
Of course, there was another reason she wished he'd put her down. Being carried over the threshold reminded her too much of a groom carrying his bride into her new home.
And that was definitely not what was going on here.
Like the outside of Cade's cabin, the interior was sparsely furnished and functional. At least it was clean. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen anywhere. What few possessions were on display were neatly arranged on built-in shelves and a fireplace mantel carved from a single slab of burled wood. The only ornamental detail was the inlay work forming a border on the wood floors, more evidence of Cade's skill.
He carried Emily to a massive wood-framed chair angled toward the stone hearth, one of a matching pair, and set her down. She let out a sigh as she sank into the soft down cushions, but the moment she was out of Cade's arms, a heavy weight settled onto her shoulders.
What would happen now?
The alpha had been very clear about what he wouldn't do with her. But even if Emily trusted his word—something she was nowhere near ready to do—Cade had given no indication about what he had planned for her. The other alphas back at the bar all seemed to agree that he'd only taken Emily home to use her as a fuck toy. But Emily wanted to hear it directly from him.
Now was as good a time as any to ask. The ride home, especially the last stretch along the twists and turns of the gravel road, seemed to have settled Cade. In his own home, the dark intensity faded from his gaze, replaced by a sense of calm.
"So now that I'm here," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral and look Cade in the eye, "what do you expect from me?"
"Expect?"
He seemed puzzled, and Emily supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Two mon
ths in the Boundarylands had taught her that alphas weren't prone to long-term strategizing.
Instead, they lived for the moment, doing what they wanted, rarely worrying about the consequences. Other than providing for their immediate future and storing enough in the warmer months to see them through the long winters, future planning wasn't a priority.
But it most certainly was for Emily.
And while she didn't expect Cade to pull a daily schedule out of his pocket, she did need a few clues so she could plan how best to avoid his wrath.
"I'm just asking you what my chores will be. For instance, Sloan liked his breakfast ready at the crack of dawn." Emily suppressed a shudder at the memory of learning this lesson the hard way, earning a slap to the face when he came into the kitchen the first morning and discovered that the stove was still cold. "I made him four eggs, a slab of elk steak, and fried potatoes every morning. You'll have to let me know what you like so I can have it ready for you."
Cade frowned, his eyes narrowing. "You don't need to make my breakfast."
If that was really true, it would be a relief. It had been months since Emily slept past sunrise. Even a couple of days of extra rest would feel like an indulgence.
"All right," she said carefully, wary of the kind of conversational traps Sloan liked to set, luring her into complacency only to pull the rug out from under her. "Then what about your laundry? I'll need to know where the creek and the basin are. And maybe you can show me the woodpile so I can bring in enough for chilly mornings. Also the storeroom and the root cellar and—"
"Emily, stop. I didn't bring you here to be my damn servant."
He hadn't?
Instead of feeling relief, fear tightened its grip around Emily's heart. Other than working their fingers to the bone, omegas only provided one other thing that alphas wanted. Sloan had taught her that lesson the first hour he brought her home, leaving her battered and bleeding in his bed with the bruises to help her remember her place.
But Emily wasn't the same compliant, confused girl she'd been then. She would face a thousand beatings before she'd let that happen again.
"I won't be your whore." Emily's voice trembled. She couldn't bring herself to look at Cade when she spoke, but at least she'd said it.
"Fucking hell," Cade muttered. "What did that sack of shit do to you?"
Emily forced herself to face him, taking in the furious intensity he'd displayed earlier. She didn't have any idea how to react to that kind of rage when she wasn't its target. How could she defend against something she didn't understand?
Cade lowered himself onto one knee, and still he towered over her in the chair. He gathered her hands in his massive ones. "Listen to me, Emily, because I don't want to have to keep telling you this. I have never forced a woman in my life, and I won't force you. You have my word."
Emily searched for the evidence of a lie, but there was nothing in Cade's manner to betray him. Every word out of his mouth rang with honesty and truth.
He seemed content to wait—cradling her hands, gazing at her face—for as long as it took for her to believe him.
And to Emily's surprise, she felt herself wanting to.
Daring to.
Her trembling eased; her heart found its steady rhythm again. And when at last she looked into his eyes, the gold flecks making constellations in their warm brown depths, Emily decided that either this alpha was very different from Sloan—or she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
"Thank you," she whispered. She still had so many unanswered questions. "But then why did you bring me here?"
"Because there was no way in hell I'd leave you with a pile of shit like Sloan," he said, as though it ought to be obvious. "An omega—especially one like you—deserves so much better."
One…like her?
Emily knew she wasn't anything special—not when she was a beta, and certainly not now as an omega. She'd seen those other omegas back at the bar: to a one they were thin and beautiful and vibrant, glowing with an inner fire that made you want to stare.
She, on the other hand, was nothing but a lump—not just physically but emotionally. All the spark and joy she'd had back in the beta world had long ago been snuffed out.
Out of all the omegas in the world, how did I get stuck with one who's fat, lazy, and ugly?
Emily's face burned as Sloan's slurred insults echoed in her head.
And still, Cade kept watching her intently, until Emily began to wonder if he could somehow see into her thoughts. She knew that alphas could detect emotions by their scent alone, but somehow the depth of Cade's focus went beyond that. She couldn't shake the sense that he didn't simply want to know what she was feeling, but why. Like he wanted to see into her soul.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
After another few moments of silence, Cade abruptly got to his feet. "Sun's almost down. I'll make us a fire and heat up some dinner. You've got to be hungry."
Emily realized that she was ravenous. Sloan hadn't bothered to pack any food before tossing her in the truck this morning.
"I can help," she said, struggling out of the soft cushions. But she'd barely managed to stand when Cade put a hand on her shoulder and gently but firmly guided her back down again.
"I said I've got it," he said, in a voice that made it clear he wasn't interested in arguing. "You rest."
Rest: it was a nice enough sentiment. The only trouble was that after two months with Sloan, Emily had forgotten how. She had learned to be constantly on edge, alert to any shift in his mood, alcohol on his breath, unsteadiness in his step. A muttered curse left her jittery all day, waiting for the inevitable blow. Even at night, waiting for sleep, she had been unable to stop worrying and waiting, dread running through her veins.
But she couldn't defy Cade. So instead, she tried her best to get comfortable, but the cushions that had conformed to her body before now seemed to be trying to trap and suffocate her.
She shifted restlessly as Cade lit the kindling and fired up the stove, but it didn't help. Her body wanted something that her mind didn't understand. Deep inside her, there was an itch she couldn't scratch, and she resorted to rocking back and forth with her hands jammed under her thighs as she waited for the steam to rise from the pot.
By the time Cade served dinner, Emily felt every bit as tense as before, her nerves lit up like they'd been jolted with electricity.
"It's nothing fancy," he said as he handed her a stoneware plate with a steaming bowl of stew. "Just soup and bread. If I'd known I was having company tonight, I would have made something nicer."
"This looks wonderful," Emily sighed. The food might have been simple, but the vegetables and tender chunks of meat in the rich broth smelled heavenly. She couldn't remember the last time someone had made her a home-cooked meal, even before coming to the Boundarylands.
Cade settled into the other chair, and they ate in companionable silence. Emily found herself too hungry to worry about appearing dainty or reserved and ate with gusto, scraping the bowl clean.
"More?" Cade asked, with a trace of amusement. He'd been watching her eat, but unlike Sloan—who liked to compare Emily to farm animals if she cleaned her plate—he seemed approving of her appetite.
"No. I'm good," Emily said, enjoying the feeling of fullness after a good meal, something she hadn't felt in a long time. "It was delicious."
Cade shrugged. "Just soup, like I said." He collected their bowls, warning her with a stern look when she moved to help. This time, she was more than happy to comply.
The early summer evening had grown cool. A gentle breeze circulated through the window as darkness fell, and she reached for a soft woolen throw in a basket next to the chair and wrapped it around herself.
When she looked up, she realized that Cade had been watching her the whole time he was lighting the oil lamps on the mantel. He took his place in the other chair and settled in, the sharp planes of his face softened in their glow.
"So, you're an uplan
der?" Cade said, using the term for alphas and omegas who lived near the northern border of the Pacific Northwest Boundarylands.
"I'm not. Sloan is." The distinction was important to Emily; stating it, a small rebellion. "I'm from Vancouver."
Cade simply nodded. "How did you find yourself in the Boundarylands in the first place?"
Emily avoided his gaze. She didn't like thinking about that night. There had been so many moments when she could have—should have—forced her friends to turn back. So many missed opportunities to protest, or even to simply leave by herself, instead of foolishly going along with everyone else. Revisiting those mistakes only made her more miserable.
But Cade was waiting. More important, he wasn't judging—at least not yet.
"I was a bridesmaid in a wedding held at a country inn not far from the Northern boundary," she said haltingly. This was the first time she would tell the story out loud. "All of us girls in the bridal party had gone to school with the bride, and we had way too much fun at the reception, catching up and dancing and drinking…there was a lot of drinking. Eventually, a couple of the girls started daring each other to drive the few miles to the border line and step over, just to say they did it, you know?"
"Then…how'd you meet up with Sloan?"
Meet up? Emily suppressed a bitter laugh at the way the alpha made the encounter sound consensual.
"He was waiting for us," she said miserably. "As it turned out, we weren't the only ones who drank too much that night. Apparently, Sloan and some of his alpha friends had been tossing back beers around a fire close to the boundary. When they heard our cars coming, they hid in the brush right next to the boundary and waited. The moment we got close, they jumped out and grabbed us. They…were so fast. We didn't know what hit us."
When she closed her eyes at night, Emily could still hear the shrieks of her friends, still see the panic in their eyes. They'd sobered up fast, hitting and kicking, frantic to escape.
"The whole time, the alphas were laughing and wisecracking. Eventually, though, they let the others break free and run back to the car. It was just a big joke to them."
Cade: The Boundarylands Omegaverse Page 4