Ryder: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance Page 3

  It wasn't exactly the Ritz, but it was better than freezing to death.

  She was just testing the strength of the structure when the sea swallowed the last sliver of the sun.

  Mari knelt and started crawling into her shelter for the night when her nostrils twitched at a faint but instantly recognizable odor.

  Smoke.

  She scuttled backward and staggered to her feet, her heart pounding, and scanned the tree line for the source. If the forest caught on fire, there was nowhere for her to flee, nowhere to go but into the icy sea.

  But she didn't confront a blazing forest as she feared, only a small glowing flame on a cleared patch of ground right at the edge of the forest. Crouched behind it was a familiar hulking shadow.

  Oh, fuck.

  "What are you doing?" Mari shouted, sprinting toward the fire, skidding to a stop in the sand just a few feet away. "You can't build a fire. Put it out. Now."

  "This is my land," the alpha said, not even bothering to look at her. He added a handful of twigs to the tripod of kindling and blew on it gently, causing the flames to leap higher. "I can do whatever I want, including building a fire. Especially since you won't get off your suicidal ass and do it yourself."

  "I'm not suicidal." If anything, Mari was desperate to survive—why the hell else would she have threatened him with a non-existent gun? "I just can't—I can't have a fire right now. Please. Look, I'm begging you, please put it out."

  The alpha finally looked up at her. His features were obscured by darkness, but Mari swore she could feel him studying her, and it made her exquisitely uncomfortable. She forced herself to remain still and endure it until he finally spoke.

  "Why?"

  "Just—just put it out," Mari sputtered, turning to look out over the inky, still water. She didn't spot any lights, but that didn't mean anything. The DEA boat could be running dark, the way Oscar's crew always did. "Anyone passing by will see it. If not the flames, then the smoke, and then..."

  Her voice trailed off. She didn't want to think about what would happen then. At least she wouldn't have long to dwell on her fate.

  "If who sees it?" The alpha's voice took on an edge. "There are people after you? Who are they?"

  The last thing Mari wanted was to spill the details of her life to a stranger, especially an alpha. The beta world certainly didn't have much sympathy for a girl like her—and it was hard to imagine that things were any better here in the Boundarylands. "It doesn't matter," she said tightly.

  And the truth was that it really didn't matter. There had always been somebody threatening to blow up her life. Yesterday it was Oscar. Today it was the DEA. Tomorrow it would be someone else....if by some miracle she survived long enough to see the next shitstorm get stirred up.

  But the alpha wasn't having it. "The fuck it doesn't."

  Mari recoiled at the steeliness of his voice. She'd never heard anything more menacing, not even when Oscar had gone on a tear against a rival who'd tried to edge him out, screaming insults at the man while he pulled out his nails one by one with pliers.

  "Just put out the fire," she pleaded shakily.

  "The ones chasing you, are they the ones who gave you that scar?" he demanded, leaning forward, probably to get a better look. The flickering firelight illuminated his face. "Is that why you escaped and swam for shore?"

  Mari's hand reflexively went to the side of her face, covering the scar. The puckered skin felt cold against her palm. "What? No. This is old."

  So old, she barely gave it any thought anymore. After all, there was no one in her life to impress, no one she wanted to look pretty for. Those dreams had died alongside her childhood.

  The alpha's eyes glowed a bright teal blue. He didn't bother to hide the fact that he was staring, the intensity of his gaze matched by the hardness of his mouth. "Then who's out there looking for you?"

  Mari bit her lip. "I told you, it doesn't—"

  "—matter?" he mocked her. "Except it does. If you want me to put out this fire, then you're going to need to tell me exactly who you're so afraid of that you're more willing to die of exposure than be found."

  Mari let out her breath in exasperation. Damn it. Just as she'd thought, there were no good deeds coming her way for free. There was always a price.

  "Fine," she bit out. "If you have to know, it's the damned DEA."

  "As in…drug enforcement?" The alpha seemed genuinely confused.

  "That's the only DEA I know."

  "You're telling me that you're being chased by the beta government."

  It had been a while since Mari had felt the blanket of shame descending on her, threatening to smother her. She had fought so hard to ignore it most of her life, but there was something about the alpha's statement that made her want to crawl into the ground and disappear. Maybe it was his tone or the look in his eyes, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd shattered some sort of illusion he held about her. That she'd disappointed him. Though why he'd had any expectations of her, she'd never know.

  He was probably thinking that she deserved what she got, but that wasn't the source of the sickening feeling that had overcome her. Mari was used to people assuming the worst of her.

  In fact, that was precisely the problem. To let someone down, they had to think highly of you in the first place.

  And it had been a very long time since anyone had thought that about her.

  "That is what I'm telling you," she said flatly, unable to muster the energy to beg for help any longer. "And if you don't put out that fire, I'm going to have to try my luck with the ocean again."

  Though they both knew that swimming like hell would only take her there faster. Because after the life she'd led so far, Mari knew she wasn't headed for heaven.

  The alpha stared at her so long that she gave up and looked away. Add 'staring contest' to her list of failures, Mari thought bitterly. She was about to turn back to the ocean when the alpha suddenly kicked at the ground, sending a huge spray of damp earth over the fire and dousing the flames.

  "You're lucky," the alpha muttered as he stamped out the embers. "You managed to land in the one place that has a bigger beef with the beta government than you do."

  Chapter Four

  Halfway through the blistering cold night, Mari had to admit to herself that without the alpha's intervention, she'd have been dead hours ago.

  When the alpha had vanished into the woods after putting out the fire, Mari was convinced that he wouldn't return. She'd turned over his cryptic remark in her mind—why should the alphas hate the beta government when the Treaties had given them all that land and self-governance too?

  Everything Mari knew about alphas came from the wild stories that got passed the streets, but the one thing that everyone seemed to agree on was that they only cared about themselves. Loners and fighters all, they thought nothing of spilling blood to protect their land and possessions.

  Mari could respect that. Knowing the rules made everything easier. Surviving meant navigating lies and betrayals, broken promises and empty threats—and she was good at it. The fact that she was still alive was due to her ability to read situations and people better than most.

  That was why she'd been shocked when the alpha returned...carrying heavy blankets for Mari to wrap herself up in. She had no idea why he'd gone to the trouble. There was nothing in it for him, no reason that she could think of for him to care what happened to her.

  But he obviously did. The blankets were proof of that. Without them, she'd be dead.

  The few inches of her face that were exposed to the bitter winds were numb to the touch, and each breath froze the inside of her nose. Were it not for layers of warm, dry wool wrapped around her, that cold would have seeped into her body and extinguished her life force.

  And the alpha's generosity didn't stop there.

  Beyond the blankets, he'd brought her a huge fleece-lined flannel shirt that hung down past her knees and a simple meal of bread, cured meat, and dried fruit that Mari w
asted no time diving into.

  "I have coffee, too. If you're still cold," he offered as Mari finished what was in front of her. "It'll warm you up."

  Mari said nothing as he filled a metal cup. He set it on the ground at the tree line and used a stick to nudge it forward onto the sand.

  Steam rose from the cup, and she inhaled the heavenly aroma...but stayed where she was. She had water, and that was enough. The promise of pleasure was much too often accompanied by hidden threats.

  If only Mari knew what the fuck his deal was. Now that her most pressing needs were met, it was tempting not to care. But that was how predators worked: give you what you needed in the moment, then a little more to cement trust…and then—bam!—they struck. That's how a lot of people she knew had ended up in all kinds of shit situations.

  Mari had lived enough to know that people's motivations were rarely pure. Not only did she not take gift horses—she didn't even bother looking in their mouths.

  But as moment after freezing moment went by, the alpha showed no signs of leaving. He remained perfectly still, crouched in the same spot as before, simply watching her.

  He didn't seem bothered by the cold. The fur-lined hat that covered much of his face no doubt helped, as did the rest of his outfit, a warm-looking combination of leather boots, gloves, and a retro-looking sheepskin coat. But that stillness—frankly, it was freaking Mari out.

  That thing about alphas having super powerful senses…Mari had always figured people were exaggerating. Now she wasn't so sure. There was something about the way he kept sniffing the air and scanning the inky sea that convinced her he smelled and saw way more than she did.

  But even if he did have magic senses, that didn't mean the alpha had her figured her out. It wasn't for nothing that Mari had spent her life hiding in the shadows, studying the drama playing on the streets of Los Angeles. She knew a hell of a lot more about human nature than anyone could learn up here in the wilderness.

  Mari's best guess was that the alpha was trying to intimidate her. Maybe he got off on making betas tremble with fear. God knew she'd run into the type before, the kind of person who couldn't feel big unless they were able to make someone else feel small.

  Though why an alpha would need that kind of reassurance, Mari had no idea. Usually, it was those who had something to prove who liked to bully people into a state of fear. But he was an alpha, for God's sake—over seven feet tall, powerfully built. The features she could see were hard planes—strong jaw, broad cheekbones—and his gloved hands were enormous. He didn't have to pretend to be the biggest and baddest—he just was.

  Or maybe she had it all wrong.

  Perhaps that steady, inscrutable gaze wasn't meant to intimidate at all. Maybe he didn't give a shit what she was feeling or thinking. The bright, intense glint in those eyes—maybe it was the hallmark of a different kind of hunger. Something as dark and depraved as the stories told deep in the night when a hell of a lot of rotgut whiskey had gone down—they're cannibals, she'd heard. They perform ritual sacrifices. They skin betas and make coats from their hides.

  Maybe, like a witch in a fairy tale, he'd only brought her food to fatten her up. Food and water so she'd be plump and juicy, and blankets so he'd have a nice warm meal.

  Mari rolled over in her blanket nest so she didn't have to look at him, disgusted with herself. Those kinds of stories were almost always bullshit. She guessed there was some truth to the one that said they kept women as sex slaves, given how many beta women had disappeared into the Boundarylands in the last year. The news networks were falling all over each other to promote so-called "expert" theories about the missing while accusing each other of promoting fake news.

  No matter what the truth was, Mari didn't want any part of it.

  At first light, she'd give back everything he'd loaned her—tossed from a safe distance, of course—and then she would escape this nightmare.

  Which meant she had better get some rest.

  That was easier said than done tonight. Even though Mari had slept in the worst of conditions—an ATM vestibule, the back seat of a bus, even the floor of a library between the stacks—she was having trouble tonight. Even after turning her body away from him, she could still feel the alpha's gaze on her.

  There was something about his presence that was just too…invasive. Somehow, he had managed to get inside her head and her body, churning her thoughts and sending electric currents along her nerves. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him, she remained painfully aware of him.

  Eventually, after what felt like hours had passed, Mari gave up trying to fall asleep, flung back the blankets, and sat up.

  Just as she'd feared, those piercing eyes were still staring at her, glinting an eerie shade of teal as though reflecting the starlight.

  "You know I'm safe now," she snapped. "I'm not going to freeze to death. You don't have to stick around."

  His profile didn't shift. "I know."

  Ok, so subtlety didn't cut it when it came to alphas. Apparently, they needed shit spelled out for them.

  "I don't want you to stick around."

  "I know that too."

  So that's how it was. Fine. Mari stewed for several long moments, chewing her lip and getting more and more frustrated.

  "So, what's your plan?" she finally blurted. "Are you just going to sit there and stare at me all night long?"

  "Probably."

  At least he didn't bother to bullshit her. Having run out of ideas, Mari returned the favor.

  "I can't sleep with some wild alpha staring at me all night long."

  "And I can't leave while there's a criminal hiding out just a few feet from my property."

  For some reason, his words stung, even though they were true—and even though Mari usually didn't give a fuck what people thought. Caring was a luxury she'd learned to do without.

  And she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of thinking his words had found their mark. "You can rest easy," she said, aiming for a casual tone. "I'm not exactly on the FBI Top Ten Most Wanted list. Besides, I'm at least a hundred pounds lighter than you."

  "More like two hundred," the alpha corrected her.

  "See, you're proving my point," she said, burrowing under the pile of warm blankets again. Even a few seconds of exposure was too much. "I'm no threat to you. And I promise I have absolutely no plans of crossing over onto your land."

  For the first time, she saw the alpha move, a faint shake of his head. "It's not you I'm worried about. It's the beta agents you've brought with you."

  Well, that made two of them. And knowing he was worried too was no comfort.

  "You don't have to freeze your ass off out here worrying about them," she said with more assurance than she felt. "It's been hours. They've probably given me up for dead by now and stopped the search."

  The alpha snorted. "If you really believed that, you wouldn't have begged me to put out the fire."

  "I said probably, not definitely. I'd be stupid to take chances." Mari's cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger. She hadn't 'begged' him—she never begged anyone for anything. "Besides, it was in your best interest too. Nothing will bring those DEA agents you're so scared of faster than lighting a fire in the dead of night."

  "I never said I was scared of them," the alpha growled. "I said I hate them. There's a difference."

  Despite herself, the words brought some relief. "I guess I'm just lucky then. I get to do both."

  "Maybe if you didn't break the law, you wouldn't have to do either."

  Mari recoiled from the judgment in his tone. It always came to this eventually—it had just taken him longer than most.

  "Amazing advice." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "I wonder why I never thought of that? Tell me, have you tried not being an alpha?—because that would really help your trespassing problem."

  A deep growl emanated from his direction, making the ground vibrate beneath her. Good. It was nice to know she could get under his skin the same way that he'd
managed to get under hers.

  "It's not the same. I didn't choose this life."

  "I know it will come as a shock to you, but neither did I," she retorted. “Looks like we're both victims of circumstance.”

  Another growl made it clear he didn't think much of the comparison. "I've never had to run from any authorities."

  "No kidding," Mari sighed. "You're what, seven-foot-six, seven-foot-eight? Made of muscle. I've heard stories that you guys can survive bullet wounds. Can't imagine why we might have different experiences."

  "Or it might be because I've never tried to smuggle drugs in the waters off the Boundarylands," he said flatly.

  Mari felt the rage rise up inside her and just as quickly shoved it back down. So he judged her…that didn't make him special. It just made him another smug entitled asshole who couldn't bother looking any deeper than what was right in front of his face.

  She let the anger flow through her body. Her temper could be her most effective defense and her sharpest weapon. Without it, she'd be stuck playing the victim, swallowing down all the shit that life dished out.

  For example, only moments ago, she'd had trouble focusing on anything other than being cold and miserable. Now she barely even noticed the ice stinging her cheeks and nose. She didn't give a crap how tired or sore she was. All her thoughts focused on this maddening alpha instead.

  "What's your name?" she demanded.

  The alpha shifted slightly, frowning, almost as if the question made him uncomfortable. "Ryder."

  "That's a good, solid alpha name," Mari said, probing to see what else she could learn. The more she knew about him, the better she could defend against him.

  "What is that supposed to mean? It's just the name I was born with."

  "It fits you," she shrugged. "I just mean that you really don't hear about any alphas named Glenn or Cecil. They're always hard names like Buck or Hunter."