Two more minutes. She would give herself that, and then she would get up out of bed and…and…
Faith had no idea. She didn't know what in the world she was going to do with her day. She didn't know what was expected of her. What was needed.
All she knew was that as long as she lay here in Troy's embrace, she didn't have to worry about any of that.
And he made it easy to close her eyes and pretend that being here in his bed with him was all she needed to do. The only place she needed to be.
There was nothing urgent in Troy's touch right now, nothing demanding. Instead of scorching heat, Faith felt a soothing warmth that permeated every inch of her body, making her feel calm and safe.
She longed to lose herself in Troy's embrace and go back to sleep, but that would only delay the inevitable. The harsh reality of her life was going to come galloping back sooner or later. Better to get up now and face it while the sun was shining rather than avoid it by sleeping another day away.
Her mother's admonitions about idle hands echoed in her head. For the last nineteen years, Faith had been taught that rising past dawn was slothful and therefore sinful, and she'd learned to keep herself busy with chores or risk her parents' wrath. Now, her lovely relaxed feeling was quickly vanishing in a tide of guilt, leaving her with an urgent need to do something.
Faith tried to slip out from under Troy's arm, but the second she moved, he pulled her even closer.
"You don't want to get up yet," he murmured against her ear, his voice husky with sleep.
"Why not?"
"It's cold out there. Stay here with me where it's warm, and I'll build us a fire in a little while."
Faith considered. The air did have a bite to it, and his bed was so comfortable, with its flannel sheets and woolen blankets, mounds of soft pillows, and, most of all, his warm body wrapped around her.
"Do you always sleep this late?" she ventured.
She felt him shrug. "Only on Saturdays."
So that's what day it was.
Faith bit her lip, realizing she'd been here in the Boundarylands almost a week already. Her parents must be beside themselves with worry.
But that was wishful thinking. The truth was that they'd probably already written her off and told everyone that she died.
Faith tried to banish that thought. "What's so special about Saturdays?"
"It's the day after Friday," he said as if that explained everything.
"And…?"
"And Friday night is when the prostitutes come over the boundary to work at Evander's, so I don't get home until around two-thirty in the morning."
Faith stiffened. "You're telling me that you sleep in on Saturday mornings because you're exhausted from debasing yourself with whores the night before?"
Troy gave a sleepy sigh. "More or less."
Faith was outraged by his unrepentant tone. "How can you admit that so shamelessly?"
"Because there's nothing shameful about it," Troy said. He rolled her over in his arms so that she was forced to look him in the eyes. "You need to remember that I came into my nature at sixteen, Faith. Before I moved to the Boundarylands, I was just a regular beta kid. I'd had one girlfriend in high school, and I'd gotten all the way to third base. And you can bet that once I got a taste of that, I wasn't going back."
Faith winced. No boy in her church would ever try such a thing—touching was forbidden until a couple was engaged. Even then, it wasn't to go past chaste kissing until marriage.
"There aren't any women here except Nicky's girls," Troy continued. "You should really be thanking them."
Faith's brows knit together. "For what?"
"For teaching me everything I know about women. How do you think I learned exactly where to touch you? How to use my hands, my mouth, my tongue? What makes you gasp, and what makes you beg me for more?"
Faith had to concede that point. Still, as skillful as Troy was, he must have had a great deal of practice.
"Were you…with them every Friday night?"
"Pretty much," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Ten years is a long time to be lonely. And don't try to tell me you never fantasized while you were lying alone in bed at night. You wouldn't talk about carnal sin all the time if you weren't obsessed with it."
Faith felt her face redden. She didn't like being called out like that…especially when it was true.
There had been plenty of nights when she'd lain awake in her bed back home, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts of boys drifting through her head.
Boys who weren't Peter—who weren't even members of her church. Men, if she was honest—big, strong men with broad shoulders and devilish smiles. Men who talked to her like she was a real person…a real woman.
Who touched her like she was a real woman.
Sometimes Faith had even let her hand drift down her body while she imagined those things. Had pretended it was their fingers caressing her skin, grazing a nipple…maybe even the sensitive place between her legs.
She may have thought and done these things, but she'd never admitted it to anyone. In fact, she'd done her best to pretend it never happened, even to herself.
But Troy always seemed to know what she was thinking.
"That's what I thought," he said, his satisfied smile widening.
Faith was baffled. She had always been taught that men prized purity of both body and mind in their women.
"It doesn't upset you to know that I've…thought about other men?"
Troy pulled her closer, pressing her naked body against his. Her heart began to pound a little harder. Her breath sped as his gaze grew more intense.
"Are you thinking about them now?"
"No," she answered honestly.
His grip on her eased, but he didn't release her. "I know who I am to you, Faith. And I know who you are to me. Once you know those things for certain, the past doesn't matter—only the future."
The future.
That was the one topic that Faith had been doing her best to avoid. But it couldn't wait any longer.
"You think I'm your mate," she mumbled, dropping her gaze to his chest, unable to meet his gaze.
"No—I know you are. Last night proved it."
"How?"
"You wanted to claim me last night," he said, hooking her chin with a finger and tilting it up. "Look at me, Faith. You opened your mouth, you scraped me with your teeth before you almost bit me. No one made you do that—you wanted it just as bad as I did."
Faith struggled to put some distance between them, but Troy held her fast. What he was saying might be true, but she wished he'd forget it had happened, just as she was trying to do. "Normal people don't want to bite each other."
"Normal betas don't. But alphas and omegas need to. It's how we claim each other." His voice gentled. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"
Faith shook her head. Of course they hadn't—she'd barely learned anything about coupling of any kind. Certainly, her church taught nothing about alpha sexuality.
Troy was acting as if there was nothing wrong with what she'd wanted to do. Just as he'd convinced her there was nothing wrong with using their mouths to pleasure each other, something that had once been unimaginable to her.
"Claiming." Faith tested the word and found that she was more curious than repelled. "Is that anything like marriage?"
"It's stronger," Troy said without hesitation. "Less fragile. A claiming bite creates an unbreakable bond between an alpha and his omega that lasts until they both die. We don't divorce. We don't run away from each other, ever."
"So…if you wanted this so much, why didn't you bite me?"
Troy propped himself up on his elbow, lacing his free hand with hers. "Because the omega is the one who chooses her mate," he said patiently. "I can fuck you until you cry my name out a thousand times, until you collapse from sheer exhaustion, but you aren't truly mine until you decide."
"But how can you say that you know I'm your mate? I didn't bite you last night."
<
br /> Troy's smile grew. "But you will. I felt how much you wanted to. I could taste it on your skin and smell it in the air. The only reason you didn't claim me last night was because your fear won out, but that won't last forever. Soon, you'll be more afraid of a life without me than one by my side."
"You can't know that."
Troy cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a searing kiss. When he finally pulled back, his blue eyes were dangerously bright.
"Sweetness, when it comes to you, I know everything."
* * *
Troy wasn't used to Faith being so quiet. Since the moment they'd met, she'd either been fighting him or writhing against him. There had been no in-between.
But now she was sitting at the table, picking at the last scraps of breakfast on her plate, totally silent.
Of course, silent didn't mean still. Troy had sensed the storm of conflicting emotions swirling inside her ever since their conversation in bed.
A part of him wanted to help Faith figure this out, but the smarter part knew that she had to do it herself. Troy knew his talents and his limitations. There were two things he could do better than anyone else—fuck and fix cars.
Honestly, those two things really weren't that different. You just had to know what parts needed attention, and the proper tool to use.
But a crisis of faith? Just like a decent game of pool, that shit was beyond him.
Troy could sense the subtle shifts in Faith's scent as she experienced fear, guilt, shame, and desire…and a hundred other emotions that all battled for supremacy inside her. But he had no idea how to break up the fight.
The world she'd grown up in was so different from his. She'd been fed lies and bullshit for so long that she couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong. Even worse, she couldn't tell the difference between what she wanted and what someone else had told her to want.
But he knew. There had been a moment last night when she had let go, when her walls had come tumbling down, and he'd felt the real Faith for the first time…and it had been better than anything he'd ever imagined.
That was why this morning was so different from all the other mornings with her. It was why he wasn't driving himself crazy with thoughts of claiming. Because he finally knew for certain that was what she wanted.
She wanted him.
She longed to be his mate. To be filled with his knot. To be the mother of his pups.
That longing came from the most elemental part of her. There would be no denying it, no matter how hard she tried.
It was only a matter of time before Faith overcome all the crap that had been forced on her over the years, and gave in to her fate. Until she shrugged off who she'd been told she was and became who she was meant to be—his omega.
It didn't matter to Troy if that happened today, tomorrow, next week—or months or even years from now. As long as he knew what was in Faith’s heart, he was secure enough to be patient.
He might not be able to erase all the trauma she'd endured in the past, but he could take care of her. He could fuck her until pleasure drove out the bad memories. He could hold through the night and keep her safe and warm.
She'd see that soon. He just had to give her time.
"I need to get some work done today," he told her. "Why don't you go for a walk? The sun will be out all day, and you can get to know my land. Our land."
Faith lifted her head. "You're not afraid that I'll try to escape?"
"This isn't like the house you grew up in," he told her. "It's not a prison."
"So, I can leave if I want to?"
Troy suppressed a smile. It was kind of adorable, the way she fought against her nature, even as she was changing before his eyes, becoming the gorgeous, strong omega she was always meant to be.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I know you don't want to.”
Chapter Twelve
The forest was oddly peaceful.
Faith didn't know what she had been expecting…but it wasn't this. She'd never traveled more than an hour outside the town in which she'd grown up, and the only images of the wilderness she'd seen were in the few textbooks that her church deemed suitable.
Those photos of forests may have featured trees and brush like the foliage on Troy's land, but they failed to capture the glint of the sun on the icicles hanging from boughs, the beauty of bright red berries on winter-bare branches.
In fact, those photos had made the forest seem ominous, as if sharp-clawed beasts were hiding behind every stone and bush. They showed a forbidding place of shadows and decay, a place no one would want to go.
But that's not how it felt now that Faith was in the middle of it.
There was no doubt that she was in the wild. Great redwoods towered above her, their needles dusted in glistening white snow. Under the cover of their canopy, the snow on the ground was patchy. Most of the undergrowth had gone into hibernation for the winter—losing their leaves, or curling in on themselves. The wind that gusted among the tree trunks felt like shards of ice against her cheeks.
But all she had to do was duck her chin, and Troy's soft woolen scarf warmed her face. His jacket kept the rest of her body nice and warm, reaching almost to the ground on her small frame.
Faith would never admit it, but she liked wearing Troy’s clothes. With every breath, his scent enveloped her, almost as if he was standing right beside her.
But why should that give her comfort? Nothing had changed between them—at least, nothing major.
It was true that Faith no longer thought Troy was the devil's spawn. A man who touched her the way he did, who sparked all those glorious sensations while making her feel safe and protected, could not be truly evil.
And he certainly didn't have claws or a forked tongue or a tail as alphas were often depicted by her church.
That was all bullshit, as Troy liked to say. Faith wasn't a huge fan of swearing, but she had to admit, that particular word seemed to fit.
Troy was not the devil, and he wasn't an angel either. As it turned out, neither was Faith. Neither was anyone—not her pastor, her parents, her sister—even her sister's lover.
Maybe there was no such thing as a pure person. Maybe Troy was right, and there wasn't one true path or set of simple rules to follow one had to follow to ensure salvation.
Maybe life was just messy, full of confusing dilemmas with no clear answers, and everyone had to figure out what to do for themselves, according to their own values and needs and abilities.
That was a lot of maybes.
These were the things that Faith thought about as she wandered deep into the forest. She wasn't concerned that she would get lost; Troy had promised that no matter how far she went or how softly she walked, he would always be able to sense where she was. If she lost her way or was frightened, all she had to do was shout, and he'd be there in minutes.
If she'd been back at her parent's house, such a promise would have served as a warning. We're watching you, Faith. Stick to the path, and don't screw up.
But Troy had encouraged her to explore before he'd gone out to his garage to work. He wanted her to get comfortable with the land that was now hers as much as his. He wanted her to know that she would always be protected.
And for the first time, Faith truly believed him. After all, he hadn't lied to her since the moment they'd met. His honesty may have been harsh, even brutal at times—but he'd given her no reason to doubt him.
He had earned her trust. He would never lie to her and would always protect her. He knew how to make her body sing with pleasure. No wonder she was falling for him.
It was ridiculous to pretend that she could keep resisting this fate.
Faith knew she could blame her omega nature if she wanted to, since she had no choice in the matter, but that would just be another lie—and she was sick of lies.
Maybe her hormones were heightening her emotions, but she still had complete control of her reason. Faith was free to choose what her future
would look like, guided by her head and her heart.
Even more importantly, what that future would feel like.
Because now that she'd tasted the depth of passion that could exist between two people, Faith didn't think she could bear to go back to her bland, flavorless life.
But that didn't mean that she was ready to bite Troy.
Okay, she may have wanted to last night, when she'd been almost overwhelmed by the urge. But that didn't mean she had to act on it.
There was something about the act of biting another human that went against the last traces of her old nature. Troy said that such a bite would create a bond stronger than marriage…but how could something so violent and barbaric symbolize love and commitment?
In the back of the closet she shared with her sisters, Faith still had the bride doll she'd been given by a kindly neighbor whose daughter had outgrown it, complete with a somewhat tattered white gown and veil. As a little girl, Faith had always loved pretending she was in a traditional wedding with flowers and rings and a church full of well-wishers.
A couple of bite marks weren't exactly the same thing.
Faith passed through a dense copse of aspen trees and emerged into a sunny clearing. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to feel the sun shining on her face, trying to clear her head of the swirl of confusing thoughts and contradictory desires.
Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been threatening Troy with Old Testament vengeance, and now she was thinking about wedding rings? Faith had a feeling she could hike this land for hours and never find the answers she was searching for.
"Faith?"
She snapped her head up at the familiar voice—one she'd known all her life.
Faith spun around and saw her sister Hope standing under the snowy boughs. Tears welled in her eyes.
It was her—it was really her sister.
The two women ran toward each other, arms open wide, joy lighting up their faces. Faith's tears turned to laughter the instant her arms wrapped around Hope, holding on so tight she was almost afraid that she was going to break her poor sister in half. There wasn't a force on earth that could tear them apart now, after everything they'd been through.
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