Omega in the Wild Read online

  Omega In The Wild

  Liam Kingsley

  Contents

  Attention

  1. Jake

  2. Gabriel

  3. Jake

  4. Gabriel

  5. Jake

  6. Gabriel

  7. Jake

  Epilogue

  Attention

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  1

  Jake

  I looked up at the sky and frowned. It was clear and blue and perfect, but I didn’t trust it. There was a wind picking up and it smelled damp, making me think we would get rain tonight. That was the last thing we needed. I breathed in deeply, hoping my wolf heightened senses would pick up a hint that my human nose hadn’t.

  Nothing.

  I sighed and shook my head. Quickly, I shifted back, letting my wolf’s body uncurl upward into my human form. I’d been away from the group for too long. Pulling on my clothes, I slung my pack over my shoulder and headed back down the narrow mountain trail.

  When the group came in sight, I let my eyes wander over the slow-moving group of rich city slickers trailing up the path behind me and rolled my eyes. These guys were having enough problems as it was – rain would probably send half of them squealing back home to L.A. or Chicago or wherever.

  “You all right?” Matt Strand, my business partner, and the closest thing I had to a pack, came to stand beside me. He was supposed to be bringing up the rear, making sure no one got lost. But I knew without asking that he hadn’t been able to handle the boredom and needed to come up for a quick breather. We both arrived from opposite ends of the country. Two young, untried alphas who had come to Colorado looking for the pack we didn’t have back home. After years of working in eco-tourism together, we’d banded together and started our company, Zenith Guides. After all that time, we knew each other well, so a lot of things went unspoken between us.

  “Does it smell like rain to you?” I asked him.

  He sniffed, his long nose flaring ridiculously and making me smile. “No,” he said at last. “It smells like over-thinking to me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Get outta here,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be making sure we don’t lose any stragglers?”

  His turn to roll his eyes. “Just because you don’t like it, Jake, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he replied, heading back to the end of the line.

  I sighed. Matt was right. I always had been a worrier. Luckily, when I worked with Matt, we balanced each other out. He was super relaxed and always open to trying new ideas - whereas I had to analyze everything (sometimes too much) before I did it.

  But, the truth was, we’d had a rough year this year and the last thing I wanted was to have to cancel this trip because of bad weather. We couldn’t afford to lose that money. I glanced back up at the sky, but it was still perfectly blue. We were nearly to the top of Green Mountain and you could see the city of Boulder spreading out below us in rows of tiny white houses and grey streets. I raised my eyes, looked out at the distant, glimmering horizon, and took a deep breath. It’s going to be fine, I told myself.

  “Only one more bend, and we’ll be at the summit,” I called back to the group, hoping it would inspire them pick up the pace. We’d done this six-day summit trip many times over the last three years, and usually we got experienced hikers. But this group was a bit of a dud. None of them had much experience. Thought, I had to admint, at least they were enthusiastic.

  Well, most of them. There was this one guy, Gabriel Front - the group’s only omega - not that I think omegas are inherently whiny or anything, I’m just saying - who had barely said two words to anyone and only offered up monosyllables when anyone bothered to approach him. He was supposed to have come with another guy, but he hadn’t shown up and Gabriel (not Gabe, he’d made it very clear) hadn’t said why. He was handsome, in a rich, city kind of way. When I’d first seen his large, dark blue eyes, I won’t lie: I felt my body respond. But then he started talking and my body quickly realized its mistake. Sure, Gabriel was around my age or maybe a little older, in his early thirties. But he was about as fit as my 97 year-old granny and clearly suffering with every step. And today was only the first day of the trip. Luckily, he was booked into a spa back in Boulder for the night.

  As we rounded the bend and came up onto the summit of Green Mountain, the group broke into excited oohs and ahs – as soon as they got their breath back, anyway. This group kept up one stereotype at least: like 90% of our clients, they were rich and had all the usual over-sized, matte-black photography equipment. And, as with every group, whenever we reached a summit, they brought all of it out to take pictures, mostly of themselves rather than the view.

  “Hey,” Matt came up next to me again, surveying the scene. Like me, he was barely out of breath.

  “You were right. Everything is fine,” I said, smiling at him.

  He chuckled. “I’m always right.”

  I rolled my eyes. That wasn’t even worth a response.

  He grinned, punching me on the arm. “Just relax, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. Oh, except, I forgot. Gabriel is still a little ways down the path. Can you go check on him? I promised the Lopez’s I would give them a little talk on the local geology once we got the summit.”

  “Why didn’t you start with that??” I asked. “You know we can’t leave clients on their own.”

  “Remember what I said about relaxing?” Matt replied as he walked away.

  I ground my teeth. How could I relax when Matt was letting useless idiots like Gabriel Front wander around on their own? Still grumbling to myself, I headed back down the path to find Gabriel.

  He wasn’t that far behind us and looked no worse for the wear, thankfully. His dark hair was pushed off his forehead, sticking up in sweaty spikes and two bright red patches had bloomed on his otherwise pale skin. He’d been focussing on the path, watching every step his feet took. Then he looked up when he heard me coming, his dark blue eyes narrowing.

  “I’m fine,” he said gruffly before I’d even had the chance to open my mouth. “I told Matt to go on ahead of me.”

  I shrugged, coming down to meet him anyway. “I know you’re fine,” I said. “But there’s safety in numbers.”

  He raised his chin haughtily and said again, “I’m fine. You don’t have to come down here and babysit me. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  I sighed. What the hell had crawled up this guy’s ass and died? Jesus, I’ve never had such a rude client in my life. “I’m not babysitting you,” I said, forcing myself to keep my temper. “And I don’t actually.”

  “Don’t what?” he asked. In his confusion, he forgot to be angry and his expression cleared, revealing long, full lips that, for the first time since we’d met, weren’t pinched or puckered. It isn’t fair to make someone so beautiful such an asshole.

  I chuckled. “I don’t have anything better to do. For the next six days, you guys are my life.”

  “Lucky us,” Gabriel replied dryly.

  I tried not to take his tone personally but, frankly, all I wanted was to give the guy a good slap. How old are you, anyway? Five? Stop fucking sulking. It was your choice to come on this trip. Out loud all I said was, “Seriously, though. You are. Lucky, I
mean. I’m probably the best-looking guide in Boulder.”

  It was a joke, but Gabriel didn’t look impressed. He just raised one long, perfectly-shaped eyebrow and kept walking. I sighed. I might not have been the best-looking guide in Boulder (though, I was up there, even if I did say so myself), but I was certainly one of the most charming. Usually I didn’t have trouble winning over cranky clients. But it was almost like Gabriel didn’t like me personally. I mean, he was always a pain, but at least with Matt he wasn’t out and out rude.

  He walked past me, and I watched him go, frowning at his Eddie Bauer-clad ass as it stumbled up the trail to the summit. Why were the hot ones always so goddamn high maintenance?

  2

  Gabriel

  As I left Jake, my over-confident, over-fit, and over-enthusiastic guide, behind, I seriously reconsidered my decision to come on this trip without Saul. It wasn’t the first time I’d had doubts and it wouldn’t be the last, I was sure. But I’d promised myself I would do this and, goddamn it, I was going to do it. Even if it was six days of absolute fucking misery. Of course, when I’d first decided to come on the trip alone, I hadn’t counted on the guide being a cocky alpha that reminded me altogether too much of Saul – even with the same thick, rust-colored hair. What were the chances of that?

  Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw Jake coming up behind me, walking slowly so that he didn’t overtake me. He was looking out at the view and seemed lost in thought, his green eyes squinting toward the horizon. I made a face and went back to watching the path. I knew I was being rude to him, but I couldn’t help myself. After what Saul did, I was pretty much done with alphas. Especially fit, jokey ones who thought they were god’s-fucking-gift. Saul had thought that too – still did, probably. The asshole.

  But then I crested the summit and all thoughts of Saul and Jake and alphas in general were swept away. The view was incredible. Boulder glimmered below us and the perfect blue bowl of the sky fell shimmering into the far-off horizon. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  Then someone walked into me, sending me stumbling forward, straight at the rocky ground.

  “Oh fuck!” Jake swore, catching me before I ate dirt. “Shit, Gabriel. I am so sorry.” Holding me tightly by the arms, he pulled me back up to my feet as if I weighed nothing. Well, compared to his muscular frame, I probably did.

  We were standing closer than we ever had and I looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of my mind. But, when I saw his expression, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. He looked so genuinely concerned, biting his lower lip like a little kid, that I felt bad for him.

  “It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice gruff. I hadn’t noticed it before, but from this distance I could see there were little flecks of gold in his green eyes. “I shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the path like that.”

  Jake blinked, obviously surprised that I wasn’t angry. Slowly, he let go of my arms and took a step back, putting space between us. To my surprise, I felt a little disappointed when his warmth retreated. “Nah, no way. That’s totally on me. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “Too busy taking in the view?” I asked.

  A surprising blush crept over his cheeks. “Yeah,” he admitted. “No matter how many times I come up here, it still gets me.”

  I nodded. “I can understand that. It’s breathtaking.”

  “You like it?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  I nodded. “I’ve never climbed a mountain before. It may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I admitted.

  He beamed at me, his cocky, jokey face transformed into one of pure, child-like happiness. “Just wait,” he said. “The view tomorrow is even better.”

  “I just hope I can make it up,” I said without thinking. Even though it was obvious that I wasn’t an experienced hiker, I hadn’t wanted anyone – especially Jake – to know that I was afraid of not being able to finish the trip. Lately, my pride had been hurt enough as it was. The last thing I needed was to get stranded half way up a mountain because of my own weakness.

  “You’ll make it up,” said Jake. “Trust me. I’ve seen way worse hikers make it to the top of Vrain.”

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Don’t lie,” I said. “I can’t imagine you get many hikers worse than me on this trip.”

  Jake made a face. “Well…” he began, stretching the word out and letting it hang between us. I raised my eyebrows. “Well, no,” he finally finished. “But you’ll still make it up. Just take your time. There’s no hurry and there’s no shame in going slowly.”

  I wished I could believe him, but I knew the other guide hadn’t been thrilled at having to go slow enough to stay behind me. “Thanks,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say, and went over to join the rest of the group.

  After a much needed night at the St. Julien Spa – making full use of their massage and sauna package, of course – I woke up the next day feeling sore but ready. Yesterday I’d climbed my first mountain. Today I was going to climb my second, come hell or high water.

  I got my gear together slowly, trying to fight back the memories it brought out. Saul and I had bought it all together. He, of course, already had loads of hiking equipment, but I – born and raised in the city – had nothing. We’d spent two days picking out a bag, shoes, special moisture-wicking socks, and I-don’t-know-what-else. That was almost three months ago now, and exactly two weeks before my world fell apart. How had he been able to go shopping with me like that when he knew…

  I shook my head. What had happened had happened and there was no use dwelling on it. It wouldn’t change anything. And I refused to let Saul make me miserable. He’d humiliated me enough already.

  Grabbing my bag and jacket, I headed out to join the others, intent on leaving my ugly memories behind in the room.

  When I got to the meeting point, everyone else was already there. I made a face. I’d have to set my alarm earlier next time. They stood in groups of two or three – Fiona and Juan, the IT couple from San Francisco, Jim and Ted, the couple from I-can’t-remember-where Minnesota, and John, Paul, and Wendy, three friends from Seattle. And me. The odd one out in more ways than one. Not to mention, the only omega in a group full of gung-ho alphas. My literal nightmare.

  Not to mention, the others were all fitter than me, their gear showed signs of having been used before, and they knew enough to ask questions about wildlife, birds, plants, and rock formations. I knew the difference between a bird and a plant, but that was about it.

  “You all rested and ready for today?” a too-chipper voice interrupted my thoughts and I turned to see Jake grinning at me.

  I nodded. It was 6:30 am. That was too early for small talk. And besides, I didn’t want Jake’s pity. He didn’t need to single me out for special treatment.

  Thankfully, he didn’t press the matter, just nodded back and continued on his way, corralling the group into the tour bus like we were a bunch of school kids. I sighed. Why on earth had I let Saul talk me into this? I hated organized vacations even more than I hated being outdoors.

  Because you were madly in love with him and desperate for him to love you back, a small voice in my head replied to my rhetorical question. I sighed again. Yeah, and that worked out so well.

  I had to admit though, as we began our ascent, sleepy muscles moaning and groaning as we forced them up the dirt path, that maybe I didn’t hate the outdoors as much as I thought I did. The air up here was clean and sweet; the high, clear call of the birds was more than a little magical; and, above us, the sky was a beautiful, dusty pearl color as, somewhere on the other side of the mountain, the sun began to rise.

  Then we rounded a bend in the path and I gasped.

  We’d turned onto a ridge that faced the rising sun. It spilled over the horizon like molten glass, all red and gold, filling the valley below with light.

  Everyone brought out their fancy camera gear and started snapping, but I just stared at it. I’d n
ever seen anything like it before. In Chicago, the rare sunrise I saw was drab and gritty.

  “Do you want me to take a picture of you?” Jake asked, appearing next to me.

  I shook my head. “No,” I replied. “I just want to look at it.” Then I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “You guys timed it like this?” It was more a statement than a question.

  He grinned and nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. With a shrug, he said, “A sunrise like this isn’t something most people ever get to see. And we want people to have a good time. That’s the whole point of these trips. To see amazing shit and do amazing things.” He bit his lip, realizing what he’d said. “I mean…see amazing things…Sorry.”

  But I laughed. He’d been caught up in the moment. Like yesterday, it was nice to know that he was a real person under his super-happy guide persona. “Yeah, if I’d known this trip wasn’t going to be PG-13, I would have asked for refund. Jeeze.”

  He blinked, looking at me in surprise, clearly not expecting the joke. Then he snorted and began to laugh. But his laugh was high-pitched and almost girlish - more like a giggle. And it was so unexpected coming from a man who was six foot two and built like a house, that I had to laugh as well.

  “Sorry,” I said when I finally caught my breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you, but your laugh…”

  “I know,” he sighed, still giggling a little. “I know, I know. Not the laugh you were expecting from possibly the best-looking guide in Boulder,” he joked, referring back to our conversation from yesterday.