Come for Me 2 (The Hunt #2)

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Alaina

M y wolf desperately tries to separate itself from my body to go back for our mate. Caleb doesn’t relent, even as I’m banging my fists against his chest. Instead, he tightens his hold on me.

My injured leg flops with every bounce, adding to my distress. But all the pain in the world can’t distract me from knowing my mate is in danger.

Mate , my wolf howls .

A sharp pain jolts in my chest as I think back to the confusion etched on Dax’s face. It was like he was surprised to see I cared, as if, before this, he thought his life meant so little to me. As if I’d jump at the first opportunity to save myself and leave him. How could he think I’d want to leave him?

Maybe because you’ve tried to leave him before.

That was then , I argue.

Since then, I’ve brought him to my pack. He’s met Jemma... surely, he doesn’t still question this.

You saw the disbelief on his face. He doesn’t know you care. Now he may die, never knowing.

My intrusive thoughts are winning. I’m biting back tears. I’ve left my mate to die at the hands of the exact monsters he’s been trying to defend, who he might’ve had a better chance to defend himself against if I had marked him.

What have I done?

“We have to go back,” I say. The panic in my voice is evident, but he continues sprinting in the opposite direction of my mate. “Caleb, please !”

My voice cracks.

Caleb winces.

I don’t care how weak I sound.

I’m desperate.

I glance behind him, and there’s no sign of Dax. Nothing other than the bodies of dead rogues who broke from the pack lying sprawled out on the ground.

What if they don’t get to him in time?

Pure terror erupts inside me, and tears pour out of me, burning my eyes like lava.

“Turn around!”

My wolf joins me in my pleading, my voice booming through the forest.

“You know I can’t.” Caleb’s voice shakes.

But it’s not that he can’t. It’s that he won’t .

Knowing he won’t help me, I take matters into my own hands. I wriggle and pound his chest with my fists again and again.

I’ll crawl to my mate if I have to.

I’m spazzing in Caleb’s arms like a toddler refusing to get into the car seat.

“Goddess, fuck, Alaina! Did you not see how many there were? Not to mention you’re injured. We’ll get slaughtered.”

“No,” I blubber and wail. “Please, Caleb. Please. He’s my mate! I can’t leave him.”

A tear rolls down Caleb’s cheek, but even that doesn’t stop him.

Snot is running down my face, and I assume he can’t understand me through my screams.

Sucking in a deep breath, I manage to get the words out in a shaky whine, but the words come out broken anyway between choked sobs. “We can’t... leave... mate.”

Caleb focuses on navigating through the forest.

My upset leaves me in a coughing fit. I’m wheezing in and out until the exhaustion from hyperventilating starts to set in.

“Please,” I whine.

He shakes his head. “This is what Dax wanted. I’m sorry.”

No, all he ever wanted was for me to want him.

I look off into the distance, silently willing Dax to come into view. My stomach churns every time he doesn’t until I finally pass out from all the crying.

* * *

It’s been hours since I last saw Dax and the others. It’s dark out, and there’s been no news. No sign of them.

I tried mindlinking him, but it’s been radio silence.

My leg has healed enough that I can hobble, as long as I don’t put more than the weight of my toes on the ground. It’s progress but not enough for me to leave the house to go look for Dax. That hasn’t stopped me from trying, though, as I made it to the front door of Jemma’s home.

Each time I try, Caleb picks me up and drags me to the couch. He doesn’t want me to hurt myself nor to find out what would happen to him if I did and Dax came back.

The pack doctor told me he thinks that, with me being half mated to the king, my leg won’t take but a week or so to heal. So, just for “fun,” I asked him what the recovery time would’ve looked like if I had been fully mated. He had responded probably no more than twenty-four hours.

I shouldn’t have asked. It only added to my guilt. I hate sitting here knowing he’s out there.

The same doctor comes by every hour to make sure my leg is properly elevated and my pillow fluffed. Every time he does, I ask him if there’s any sign of Dax, and each time, I get the same response.

He swallows a lump in his throat, shakes his head, and tells me to get some rest.

How can I rest when I don’t know if my mate is okay?

Jemma urges me to eat something, but I can’t do that either.

I’m too infuriated.

Rogues and vampires have tainted my mother’s favorite spot. Anger is rallying in me from getting hurt and being useless in stopping them. Dax has forced me to leave him out there, and I’m sick and seething that he’s making me worry about him.

Mostly, I’m disappointed at myself for my regret.

“‘Laina, this is Dax we’re talking about here, the King of Werewolves. If anyone can take care of themselves, it’s your mate,” Jemma says. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, then smooths the rest on top of my head.

I roll my head to the side on the pillow, facing the wooden window to my aunt’s cabin, constantly checking to see if he’ll appear.

“I know, I want to believe that but”—I bite my lip—“you didn’t see how many there were.”

“Oh, honey. With the love you two have, nothing will keep y’all apart.”

Tearing myself away from the window, I whip my head toward her, crinkling my nose. “Love? We’re not in love.”

She snorts. “Oh, child, please, I was young once but never stupid.”

I roll my eyes at her, turning my attention back toward the window. An exhausted-looking shirtless figure covered in guts, blood, and dirt walks toward my aunt’s cabin, head hanging low.

Ignoring what the pack doctor ordered, I hobble out of the cabin through the front door.

Sam and a few others make their way toward my aunt’s home. When they reach the front door, I throw my arms around Sam, greeting him and then the others. Silently, I thank them for aiding their king with a heartfelt smile.

Holding Sam at arm’s length, I check him over for any major injuries, then let out a breath when he appears to be okay.

If Sam is okay, then Dax must be, too.

My heart swells with hope. But it’s quickly overpowered with worry when I don’t see him.

“Where’s Dax?”

Sam doesn’t look me in the eye as he sighs and rubs his neck.

“Sam?”

Why won’t he look at me?

I search his face. “Where is he?”

As he drops his arms to his sides, lifting his head, his eyes are filled with pity.

No.

Fear takes over, and I grab Sam by the collar, pinning him up against the doorframe.

He doesn’t resist, just continues to wear that same look of defeat I’m beginning to hate.

“Tell me where Dax is,” I say in an unrecognizable tone.

Sam flinches and whimpers at the dominant aura radiating off of me. “We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He’s silent, as if contemplating how to tell me.

Because I don’t have the patience to wait for the sugar-coated version, I pull him toward me by his collar just to slam him back into the wall again. “Tell me!”

“There were too many of them. He—” He peers at me, checking if it’s okay to continue.

I stare at his eyes, hanging on to his every word as my heart races.

“There were only four of us. We were outnumbered—by a lot .” He ponders off behind me as he recalls the events. “We were all surrounded, especially Dax. He was fighting maybe ten or so of them off. He used his king’s command to order us to fall back, and one of the bastards caught him off guard... We can’t find him. And we don’t know if he even... Alaina, I’m so sorry.”

My vision blurs, and all sounds are jumbled.

Caleb’s voice garbles. “We’ll send more men to search for him.”

I’m only able to make out a couple of words.

Cliff. Rocks. Body.

The lump in my throat enlarges, and I can’t breathe any more than I can swallow.

Regret hits me like a tidal wave, knocking me off balance.

He’ll never know because I didn’t know.

I love him.

Loved , my retched inner monologue retorts.

The remaining string tethering my parting heart breaks. I can’t make the tears release from my tear ducts, so they collect and cloud my vision. I’m taking in air, but I can’t will my body to breathe out. There’s no noise coming out of my mouth, and I’m shaking my head.

Finally, I wail.

A scream I’ve only heard mother’s make when they’ve lost their pup.

I collapse into Sam’s arms, my knees crumbling before me.