Early the next morning, just after breakfast, Adela returns wearing another flowy sundress and her hair in a low bun. She’s not here to accuse me of being an omega with Bennett ready to trap me.
No, she’s here with the crutches she promised to bring and to check on my leg.
“No using it until tomorrow at the earliest. Do you understand?” She narrows her eyes at me, trying to look threatening but failing miserably since I can tell her lips keep wanting to turn up at the edges.
Even though I don’t trust her, not with what she is and how easily she can expose me, I want to like her because it’s easy to. I wish I could say it was because she was an omega, but it’s not. It isn’t even just her, it’s this place.
When I first picked up the postcard of Winter Lake, I felt a connection form bet
