But living in an alpha's cabin deep in the uplands, Stacy's worldview had been rocked by reality. Staying in the campground had begun to stir up doubts when none of the alphas she'd encountered had lashed out or attacked her.
And when one finally did, it proved to be because he'd been the only one able to see through her disguise. Stacy refused to make excuses for Vonn, but knowing what she knew now, she had to admit that he'd shown remarkable restraint. She'd thrown him to the ground—made him bleed, for God's sake—and he hadn't retaliated.
Instead, he'd shielded her from another alpha's anger.
As Stacy breathed the scent of wildflowers and rushing spring water, she reviewed everything that had happened since she met Vonn, and was forced to acknowledge that he'd done nothing but try to help her. His motives weren't completely selfless, of course. He never hid the fact that he wanted an omega.
But he hadn't been willing to harm her to get what he wanted. He could easily have kept her tied to his bed until the suppressant wore off. He could have tortured the information he wanted out of her instead of waiting for her to offer it. He could have disregarded her resistance when things had become physical and simply taken the pleasure he wanted.
Instead, he'd tried to keep her from harming herself. He was patiently teaching her survival skills. He provided nourishing food and a place to rest. Most important of all, Stacy felt safe in his care. That was more than any enemy combatant had a right to expect.
But that was her old thinking, established in her old life by corrupt and dishonest officials and superiors. Vonn had never viewed her as an opponent.
He saw her as a woman. An omega.
Which Stacy wasn't…yet.
But the clock was ticking. She had no idea how much suppressant was currently in her system. Just like she had no idea how long it might last. A few days? A week? More?
Hell, it was possible that between those three partial rapid-fire shots, she'd accidentally overdosed, and the effects would never wear off.
Strangely, none of those thoughts terrified her.
Of course, none thrilled her either.
If she never turned, she could always go back to her life back in the beta world. To her friends and family. To her career, even if she never returned to the army. There was always demand for private security, and she could easily land a plum corporate position.
But if—and she clung pretty damn tight to that 'if'—the suppressant wore off, and her dormant nature was brought to life by Vonn's touch, it might not be the worst thing in the world. The thought no longer made her nauseous with fear and revulsion.
Out in the beta world, it would be hard to find someone who hadn't developed the same fears and prejudices that her superiors had fostered and encouraged. Stacy had never questioned the government's data because she had no experiences to contradict it.
But living in Vonn's house, talking with omegas face to face, it was impossible to hold onto those beliefs any longer.
She'd seen for herself the love and respect those omegas felt for their alphas. She'd heard their stories of devotion and caring. None of the three women had been beaten or abused. They'd come here on their own, without having to ask permission, and been treated with respect by Vonn.
All of this left Stacy feeling unmoored. It had been so much easier when all the answers had been handed to her. When her whole world hadn't been thrown into question. If only there was someone here who she could talk to. Who she could trust.
Stacy felt a disturbance in the air near her face and bolted straight up, looking wildly around…and saw a beautiful orange and yellow butterfly flitting nearby. Her sense of relief made her feel a little ridiculous as she relaxed back into the chair.
And suddenly, with perfect clarity, she realized that there was someone who had proved himself trustworthy again and again.
Stacy had never found it easy to admit when she was wrong, but this time was going to be epic.
The sky was already starting to dim to twilight when she finally worked up the nerve to do what needed doing. She padded barefoot across the patio and tugged open the heavy door.
Inside, the evening chill was dispelled by candle glow and a crackling fire in the hearth. Something was simmering in a cast-iron pot on the stove, and it smelled delicious. Vonn was working his way through the day's dishes, his muscular forearms deep in a sink full of suds.
Last night, Stacy would have kept her distance. But tonight, she picked up a dishtowel and started drying.
"I was wondering when you were going to come in," Vonn said mildly.
Stacy kept her eyes on the plate in her hand. Some things were easier to say when you didn't have to look at the other person. And still, she couldn't quite figure out where to start.
"You… weren't afraid I was going to try to escape?" she finally said.
"We've already been over that."
"But that was before," Stacy pressed. "When I still had that tracker in my arm. Now that it's out, I could take off at any moment."
Vonn paused, a saucepot dripping in his hand, but Stacy didn't dare meet his gaze.
"You can't outrun me," he rumbled softly.
It wasn't a threat or a warning, only a fact. But the way Vonn said the words suggested that he wasn't talking about physical escape anymore.
Stacy knew because she felt it too. Somehow she was certain that no matter how much suppressant she injected into her veins, it would never be enough to stop the force of their natures reaching for each other. Every touch, every kiss, every word between them only entwined them further.
But Stacy had no language to describe things she had never felt before. Instead, she blurted out a question she
