Chapter 5
Tara
What is he doing out there?
Does he know I can see him from the bedroom window? I mean, what else am I going to do? Sleep all day?
There are a few books on the nightstand, all about different eras of history.
I actually like history, and if this was any other situation, I might spend hours curled up, absorbed by the subject matter.
Instead, I read the same page four times because I kept drifting off into other thoughts.
What is he going to do to me? Will I ever get to talk to my family again?
How long can I possibly go without jumping him?
It doesn’t help that this bedroom carries his scent so heavily, either.
Everything around here does. The towels I used today?
I wanted to rub them all over my body well past the point where I was dried off.
I raise the back of my hand to my nose and pick up the lingering scent, closing my eyes to focus on his musky, masculine aroma.
And there he is, the big, brown bear who’s been slowly pacing the tree line for hours.
When is he coming back? What is the point of this?
Is he guarding the cottage? Is he afraid somebody from his clan is going to sneak through the woods and come to attack?
Not exactly what I need to be thinking about, but it’s hardly the worst image that’s gone through my head today.
He’s so powerful. Huge, nothing but muscle moving under all that fur. I even want to touch that, to run my fingers through it, to maybe lie down next to him so his warmth can envelop me. It’s the simplest, most basic need, and it’s out of my reach.
It’s emotions that take more time. I don’t know if there’s enough time for me to ever get over this. I don’t know how much time I have left, either.
How is it possible I’m worrying more for him as I watch him pace than I am for myself?
He should be the last thing I’m worried about, considering he plans on rejecting me so I can be massacred.
Just another one of fate’s little jokes.
I sense his conflict inside me. I feel the way his emotions seethe the way mine do, only he’s got an entire clan on those broad shoulders.
It weighs him down. It gnaws at him. I would be surprised if he got any sleep at all last night, with his head in such a mixed-up place.
Tears fill my eyes, only the tears aren’t for me this time. I have to force myself to blink them back because the longer I think about him this way, the more attached I’m becoming. The more it’s going to hurt when he does what he has to do.
Where is my family now? What are they thinking? I hope they aren’t going through too much pain over this. Do I want them to come looking? Part of me does, the part that doesn’t want to die.
On the other hand, what will that mean for everybody I love?
What if they have to fight for me? I don’t want that.
I don’t want it for Kyran, either. He’s still my mate.
I don’t want him to get hurt. I hate to think all of this is happening because of me.
Because I wasn’t strong enough to stay away when I knew I should.
I know there’s no fighting fate, but I could’ve tried harder for everybody’s sake.
Maybe they can get me out of here without it coming to that.
Is it na?ve that I’m still holding onto a crumb of hope?
It’s a possibility. I know Declan won’t want to fight.
It would be a last resort kind of thing.
He always wants to find a peaceful solution wherever possible, and I don’t think the stakes have ever been higher than they are now.
We’re talking about the entire fate of our pack if he goes to war.
Useless bloodshed. I know he’ll want to be diplomatic up to the point where diplomacy falls apart.
What kind of diplomat is Kyran? I don’t know that yet, although it seems like he’s somebody who thinks things through. Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be breathing, would I? Maybe there’s hope.
For a moment, he pauses, touching his snout to the ground before his body heaves in a deep sigh so full of pain, it chokes me up again.
All I want is to take it away. I never understood until now what it means to only want the best for somebody who wasn’t part of my immediate family.
It almost feels like he’s more a part of me now than they are.
Fate can be so cruel. I know I’m not the first person to figure that one out, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
Forever and a day passes before he finally turns toward home and lumbers this way.
I can only guess at the mood he’ll be in, but still there is a big part of me that only wants to be in his presence.
My pulse picks up like I’m anticipating a gift, something I’ve been looking forward to.
For all I know, he could have finally made the decision to end this ugly awkwardness, and I’m sitting here with a hopeful feeling in my heart.
It would be funny if it wasn’t so damn sad.
It’s a good thing I don’t expect him to come free me right away, since he doesn’t.
And in a home this size, it’s not that hard to hear everything that goes on.
The back door opens and closes, and his footsteps echo.
His tread is heavy, the way I’m sure his heart must be.
That doesn’t bode well for me, does it? I can’t think about that now—it hurts more than I can handle.
The shower turns on, and I have to close my legs tight, not that it matters.
A flood of wetness pours from me anyway.
That might be the cruelest part of all—the way my body makes it tougher and tougher to keep from craving him.
It’s wrong; it won’t get me anywhere, but I can’t stop.
My wolf has only one goal: completing the mating bond.
Nothing else matters. So of course, I’m horny as hell, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
After my shower, I’m debating whether I should try to get myself off again if only to take the edge off when he knocks at the bedroom door. Even that little touch of respect goes to my head in the worst way. Suddenly, basic manners get me hot and bothered.
There is no hope of reading his face once he pokes his head in the room.
“I fixed some lunch.” That’s the most I get out of him before he walks away, leaving the door open for me to join him at the table.
This afternoon, it’s tuna sandwiches, the same as he offered last night.
I get the feeling he doesn’t do a lot of cooking for himself—the eggs were a little overdone this morning.
Not that I’m complaining. Out of everything going on, rubbery eggs are the least of my problems.
“Thank you for this.” I’m trying. Nobody can say I didn’t try.
“Sure.” Okay, then. I see his lengthy time outside didn’t do anything to improve his mood. Not that I expected it to. We’re kind of in this situation together. I wish he would look at it that way instead of treating me like I’m the enemy born to make him miserable.
“How come you didn’t go into the woods? You stayed awfully close all that time.”
“You were watching me?” The question comes out more than a little sharp, with plenty of accusation.
If there’s one thing about me I’ve never been able to change or improve, it’s my temper.
He’s the last person I need to anger, but I don’t appreciate his tone.
“There’s not much else to do, is there? I’m not quite sure what I did to be treated as a prisoner.
” Way to go. Start a fight. Anger the guy who holds your life in his hands. What a great idea.
“Did you ever think that’s just as much for your safety as anything else?
Did you ever think maybe I stayed close to make sure you were safe here?
” Then he winces like he said more than he meant to before taking a massive bite from his sandwich and chewing much harder than anybody has ever needed to chew tuna salad in the entire history of the world.
Shame heats my cheeks before I look down at my sandwich so I won’t have to look at him. “Anyway, there’s nothing else to do,” I mutter, picking at the crust. “And I can sense how worried you are and how conflicted you feel, and I’m really sorry—”
“Can we not talk about this?” The glare he shoots me could set ice on fire and snaps my mouth shut.
I need to stop trying to relate to him. He is obviously not interested, and I only end up regretting it.
If I’m not careful, he’ll reject me out of anger before Declan even has a chance of getting me back.
I have to be smarter. I can’t let hurt feelings make me do anything irrational that could get me killed.
How can anyone be so angry and still look so gorgeous?
His already sharp jaw is tight enough to cut glass, and his dark eyes shine with something dangerous, maybe deadly.
And here I am, a moth to the flame, ready to be drawn in even though I know how dangerous it will be to get too close.
There’s a hunger in me no amount of tuna salad can touch.
“Here. Let me take that.” As soon as he’s finished, I stand, reaching for his plate. “It’s the least I can do.”
“I didn’t bring you here to make you my maid.
” Even so, he hands it over and makes my heart skip a beat when our fingers brush.
That’s all it takes to make my knees weak.
I have to turn away from him and release a shuddering breath on my way to the sink.
This is impossible. I don’t know how much more of it I can stand.
It doesn’t help when he gets up to wipe down the counter, putting him next to me.
It’s like my body soaks up his warmth. I am so aware of him, I don’t know what to do.
I can’t think. I can’t do anything but focus on his nearness and what I would give for the chance to touch him.
I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want him.
He gives his throat a rough clearing. “It’s not going to get any cleaner.” I’m startled, looking up at him before realizing I have run the sponge over the plate all this time. “You’ll rub a hole in it.”
“Sorry.” I give it a quick rinse, then place it in the drainboard and accidentally touch my arm to his. A sizzle of white-hot electricity shoots up my arm and spreads through me, finally making my core explode in a hot, churning cauldron of desire. I’m too weak. I can’t fight this another minute.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I stand on tiptoes to kiss him like I did before.
Only this time, he doesn’t let me do it. This time, he grabs me by the shoulders to hold me in place, forcing me back down on my heels before leaning in. And still, I’m stupid enough to think he’s leaning down to kiss me, and my heart leaps with joy.
The joy dies quickly when he bares his teeth and snarls. “What is it going to take to get through to you?” he shouts, even shaking me. “This is never going to happen! Don’t you get it? You will never, ever be my mate! So let it go, goddamnit!”
Then he shoves me away with all his might.
I fall back against the counter, breathless, feeling like he crushed my chest. So that’s it.
So much for hope. He’s rejecting me. He hasn’t changed his mind—he has no intention of changing his mind.
He’s only biding his time to make sure this doesn’t blow back too hard on his clan.
I’ve made a complete idiot of myself.
He doesn’t have to tell me to go to the bedroom.
I go on my own, grinding my teeth to hold back the tears until I’m alone.
With a closed door between us, I can lie on the bed and sob.
What did I expect, a miracle? Don’t I know better than that?
There’s no such thing. Besides, I wouldn’t deserve one, even if they existed. Stupid, stupid me.
Forget going out for dinner. When he knocks, I ignore it, since I’d rather be hungry and alone than have to face him.
Like this wasn’t all bad enough without me making a complete joke out of myself.
I’ll never forgive myself for it—not like I have much time left.
I always knew there was a very good chance he would really reject me and leave me to be murdered.
I guess I was still clinging to hope. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. There’s no reason to hope anymore.
Which means it’s up to me now. I need to get out of here before he goes to his clan and gives them his decision.
Adrenaline fills my veins, pushing away all of the self-pity I’ve wallowed in for hours.
I am not going to stay here and wait to die.
I am the daughter of an alpha, the sister of another alpha.
There is strength in my blood. I just need to call on it now.
With the light off, it’s easy for me to see when he turns the lights off in the living room.
The crack between the bottom of the door and the floor goes dark while I wait.
Every second feels more like an hour, but I need to be careful.
I can’t do this until he’s asleep if there will be any hope of getting home before he knows I’m gone.
I only need to cross the border—I’m sure he knows what’s waiting for him if he decides to follow me.
It would be pretty stupid of him to do what I’m supposed to die for doing myself.
Finally, I hear the sweetest sound ever: snoring coming from the living room.
One thing went right today. I creep off the bed, tiptoe to the window, and then try to open it as quietly as possible.
It’s stuck, but after a little jiggling, it opens for me and lets in a blast of fresh air I desperately needed to clear away any lingering doubt or regret in my head.
This is what I have to do if there’s any hope of surviving.
Whether I want to or not is irrelevant—and really, all things considered, it seems a little more important that I live.
Besides, what am I staying for? I’ve been rejected. And by morning, the clan will know it.
Still wrapped in my would-be mate’s clothes, I lower myself out the window and land silently on the soft earth.
I quickly lose the clothes and shift into wolf form, then take off running for the woods.
It won’t take long to get back where I belong—and I will never, ever leave our lands again.
No matter what fate tries to trick me into doing.