Chapter Twenty-Five
AURELIA
Thorin told me to stay, and in an effort to obey him for as long as I possibly can, I shower in his bathroom and get ready for bed. When I emerge to find that he still hasn’t returned, I go in search of Khalil downstairs.
I find him in the bathroom lining up his beard with clippers in his hand and a towel around his waist. Beads of water from his recent shower still cling to his brown skin and the muscles he’s honed over the years.
Usually, the sight would be enough to distract me, but not this time.
I can’t get that frenzied look in Zeke’s eyes out of my head.
Khalil’s gaze meets mine in the mirror when I step inside the bathroom.
“It’s Thorin’s night,” he says, referring to the turns I take sleeping in their beds so that they don’t get jealous and kill each other.
“Thorin isn’t here. He ran after Zeke and told me to stay.”
The clippers shut off abruptly, and Khalil turns around with a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Zeke. He said he wanted to talk about Seth, but then he ran out of the cabin before he could, and Thorin went after him.”
Khalil swears and then brushes past me to leave the bathroom.
I follow him into his room where he drops his towel and then disappears inside his closet.
When he emerges, he’s wearing dark cargo pants and a rain jacket.
The hood is already pulled over his head as he passes me again to go into the den where the weapons locker is.
They don’t keep it locked anymore, so he wrenches it open without delay and reaches inside.
My heart punches against my chest when he pulls out the tranquilizer rifle and handgun and quickly loads them both with a dart.
Oh God. Oh no.
Zeke. Thorin.
“I’m coming,” I say as I rush forward to get my compound bow.
Khalil slams the locker closed with a fierce scowl that warns me not to push.
“So is all the training just bullshit then? When it really comes down to it, you’ll treat me like I’m fucking helpless?”
“No. I want you to stay here just in case Zeke or Thorin come back. My guess is neither of them have their radios.” He grabs a handheld off the charger from the small table next to the locker. “I will. If something pops off, we can let each other know and regroup. Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Sure,” I grumble reluctantly, still feeling like I’d be more useful by his side protecting him.
“Good girl.” Khalil kisses my forehead and then hands me the smaller dart gun and a radio. He grabs another radio, and then we check to make sure we’re on the same frequency before I follow him up the basement stairs.
My stomach turns, and it feels like I can’t breathe as I follow him over to the door.
Khalil opens the door and twists to block me from the onslaught of the storm that is only getting worse. It matches the one inside my heart telling me that something was very fucking wrong. “Stay here, and I swear to fucking God, Aurelia. Do not leave this cabin. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He’s gone before I can plead with him one more time to let me come.
The wind slams the front door shut behind him, and I jump.
Alone, I pace for a little while, then I blindly grab the first book my fingers touch before I go up to my loft.
I’m much too restless to sleep, and I don’t see that changing even once they’re all back.
Like Khalil said, it’s my night with Thorin, and even when exhausted, he’s too light a sleeper to slumber peacefully if I’m awake, so the loft it is.
Ignoring the book in my lap, I watch the door, but I can’t see shit beyond the loft except for the spots in the cabin where the pale light of the moon stretches through the open windows.
Outside, the thunderstorm continues to rage on, growing in strength and temperament.
The wind howls, rain falls in sheets, thunder rolls, and lightning flashes.
Usually, I’m unfazed by it all, but my boyfriends and their best friend are out there.
I sit with my back to the cool pane of the window behind me and try to convince myself that they’re okay.
They’ve survived worse, and they’ve survived it without me.
I tell myself it will be easier if I sleep, that when I wake up, they’ll be back and safe in their beds and all will be well. But midnight comes and goes, and another hour ticks by with no sign of sleep or them.
If Khalil were here, I’d wake him up and he’d fuck me right to sleep without a word. But he’s not here, and I’m done waiting.
I tried calling him on the radio a few times, but the heavy rain must be blocking the signal because he doesn’t answer.
I crawl toward the edge of the loft and the ladder Khalil built for me, and I slowly descend until my bare feet are planted in the soft fur of the rug that was once Bruce—the bear that mauled Thorin years ago.
I run down to the basement and get dressed, but I don’t really have any gear that will protect me from the rain, so I pull on some shorts and my all-weather boots before finding Zeke’s poncho and pulling that on.
Once I’m dressed, I sling my bow over my shoulder and then grab my quiver, arrows, the dart gun, and a flashlight.
I leave the fucking radio since it’s useless in this storm.
I throw open the door but stop on the threshold as I take in the endless darkness that awaits me beyond. The trees sway and taunt like a haunting silhouette, and all I can think is that my guys are somewhere in there, so I step out into the storm and I don’t look back.
My body grows heavy, and my lashes become weighed down from the torrential rain, making it hard to see as I jog across the clearing.
When I reach the tree line and the worn path the guys usually take, I stop and turn on the flashlight to study the ground as I try to remember everything Thorin taught me about tracking.
I haven’t had much practice, but luckily because of the rain, I don’t need it.
The clear impressions of three sets of large boot prints are my breadcrumb trail, so I follow the story they tell.
Deeper inside the forest, I find a body impression where it looks like someone fell.
Beyond that, I come across crushed grass and follow it to the elevated bank of a rising river.
I use my flashlight to search the churning water just in case.
It’s blessedly empty.
“Zeke…Khalil…Thorin!” I start to turn away when I spot something black and familiar clinging to the sidewall on the other side of the riverbed.
It’s Zeke’s graphic T-shirt of Bound—his favorite band—caught between some rocks just above the water.
I don’t think twice before jumping over the slippery slope and down into the river. It’s a struggle to cross against the natural flow of the water, but eventually, I reach the other side and when I pan the flashlight over the rocks, I don’t just see Zeke’s shirt.
I see blood. Oh God. So much blood. It’s splattered on the side of the rocks hidden from the rain and rising water like a fucking crime scene. My throat burns with bile as I search for more clues with only the small beam of light to guide me in the dark.
Someone didn’t just get hurt. There was a struggle here. I can see blood in a small puddle turning the rain pooling there into a light pink.
“Khalil!” I shout. “Thorin! Zeeeeke!” Nothing but the howling wind answers me back, so I continue down the riverbed, my boots splashing in the swiftly rising water. “Khalil…Thorin…Zeke!”
The water surpasses my shins, slowing me down and erasing the breadcrumbs, so I climb out of the riverbed, but it’s not easy to do because the bank is a few feet above my head and the wet ground is too slippery to get a good hold.
I manage to use some of the embedded rock to pull myself up until I’m lying on the ground panting and shivering.
Eventually, I have enough strength to crawl to the trunk of a tree at the edge of the bank and rest there.
Get up. Keep going. They need you.
I pull myself up and continue following the riverbed, but I don’t make it more than a few feet before it feels like I’m being hunted. Call it a sixth sense from nearly dying earlier, but I don’t question it as I reach for my bow and draw an arrow from my quiver.
Those wolves could still be in the area, and so could the bear.
And I ran out of the cabin and into a storm in the dead of night like a fool in love.
I force myself to keep going, to put one foot in front of the other, my eyes and ears on alert as I call their names over and over. Thorin, Khalil, and Zeke.
No one answers me.
The water in the channel below me is rising higher and higher as the rain continues to pour. It rushes alongside me as I come to a crossroads and consider which direction to go. Lightning flashes then, and I see a lone figure walking toward me from the trail that leads back to the cabin.
It has to be one of the guys but an ominous feeling crawls down my spine because I don’t recognize the gait. I know all of their walks pretty well by now—even Zeke’s.
Thorin walks like he never stops hunting—silent, deadly, and focused.
Khalil walks with a confident strut that says he’s used to being watched, coveted, and admired.
Seth walks with a perpetual bounce in his step and trouble in his wake.
Zeke walks like he’s alone…trapped under a cloud of turmoil.
The tall figure moving through the dark has a stride I don’t recognize.
He walks like he’s trying to blend with the night and become one with shadow.
He walks like he’s darkness incarnate, looking for something to consume.
How do I know? The instant fear coiling around my heart and begging me to stay away.
Instinct from living with predators tells me not to run the other way.
As if testing my resolve, thunder claps and I jump. I continue to eye the figure that walks through the downpour as if he doesn’t notice the storm.
“Hello?” I shout.
“Aurelia!”