Chapter 11
Jago set a rapid pace through the dark landscape.
Jamie followed closely while Liam lagged, slowed by the pounding in his skull.
The pain made him clumsy and foggy. How much longer could this go on?
Sienna had said he’d hit his head on a chest of drawers, but something didn’t fit.
She’d used drugs to knock him out. Could that be the issue?
Surely the headaches shouldn’t still be this bad.
If he could trust them, he’d see the local feline doctor for advice.
Despite their haste, they listened for hunters, kept to the shadows, and took care with their foot placement.
Up ahead, Jago froze, and he and Jamie followed suit.
Voices became audible, coming from in front of them.
Jago dove into the undergrowth, blending with the deep shadows.
Jamie slipped behind a scraggly bush. Liam frantically searched for a hiding place, but his only option was to go up.
He swung into the tree branches and winced at the rustle of the sparse leaves.
Three hunters marched along the path seconds later.
“Did you hear that?” the one walking in the lead demanded. He paused, his gaze shooting from side to side.
An eerie, piercing shriek cut through the night, and Liam flinched, almost losing his grip on the branch.
“That sounds like a fox,” the man at the rear said, yawning. “I saw one earlier.”
And thank goodness for the sighting. Liam peered down at them and wished they’d leave. If they glanced up, they’d see him.
Finally, the trio moved on, but Liam didn’t risk drawing attention with a premature descent. He remained still, barely breathing, until he could no longer hear them. Then he climbed down and joined Jago and Jamie.
“They must’ve lost the trail,” Jago said.
“They sound tired,” Liam said, exhausted himself. “Perhaps they’ll call it a night.”
“I hope they don’t bring in more hunters,” Jamie said. “I’d hire more manpower if I were in charge.”
Jamie was right. Liam and Jago exchanged a glance, recognizing this truth.
They needed to find a solution to their problem soon, or none of them would survive.
The person who’d encouraged the hunters to stay in the village had created a significant problem.
They might have considered eliminating the Teagues, but they had simultaneously brought suffering to the other villagers.
Jago led the way again, quickening his pace over the rocky ground.
Sharp stabs of pain lanced behind Liam’s eyes, the discomfort worsening until he had to pause.
His breath came in harsh gasps, and a sudden wave of nausea caught him off guard.
Liam vomited at the side of the dirt track, his stomach churning as he struggled to stay upright.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, and once he was confident he wouldn’t barf again, he glanced up, the sour taste still coating his tongue.
Colors flashed in his vision—oddly familiar.
He’d experienced this before. But when? The answer hovered out of reach, buried beneath a haze that clouded his mind and churned his gut.
He gave up chasing the fragments of his past and focused on breathing.
“Liam,” Jago said. “It’s not far. About fifteen minutes. Can you make it?”
Liam wasn’t sure he could manage a hundred meters, let alone fifteen minutes of walking. But he gave a grunt of agreement and pushed himself upright, wavering. Without Jago and Jamie steadying him, he would’ve face-planted in the dirt.
He must’ve blacked out because when he came to, he found himself in a makeshift hut made of rocks. It was pitch black, apart from the light of a partially shaded lamp, and a drummer reverberated offbeat in his skull.
“Liam!”
The splitting headache he’d had for days was now a dull, erratic rhythm at his temples, but something else was wrong. The fog in his mind was lifting, and with it came a flood of images that hit him low and hard, leaving him queasy.
Scott. The castle. The gathering. The bar where they’d talked about…
“Middlemarch,” he whispered, the word feeling like home on his tongue in a way Australia never had.
“Liam, are you feeling okay?”
He looked up at the concerned faces surrounding him, and for the first time in days, they came into sharp focus. Not kin by blood or truth, but strangers bound to him by circumstance and secrets.
“I remember,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The gathering. Scotland. My friend Scott.” He rubbed the side of his forehead, where a dull throb persisted. “Your sister didn’t just find me after I fell. Something’s missing. How did she get me here?”
The silence stretched, heavy with confusion.
“She told you we were mates. But we’d never met before that night.”
Hedrek’s shoulders sagged. “Lad, I—”
“She kidnapped me.” The words slipped out flat, but beneath the calm, a storm brewed—anger, pain, and a raw sense of loss.
Silence hung thick for a moment, then tension rippled through the hut like a sudden chill.
He should be furious, demanding they take him to the nearest police station. Instead, he found himself studying Hedrek’s weathered face, the worn features stirring painful recollections of his own father’s death, and how his mother and brothers had turned against him.
These people had wrapped him in warmth and acceptance. Even built on lies, it was more family than he’d ever known.
Not that it made things right.
Hedrek brushed his hand over his face, the rasp of stubble rough in the silence.
“I suspected something was afoot, but you were helping us, and selfishly, I wanted to hold on to the positive changes you brought. I’m not blind.
Neither are the boys. Tamsin and Sienna bear the taunts and shunning from the locals.
We’re failing them, but I’m struggling to find a solution.
Now, Sienna… I’m sorry. Is there any way we can make this right? ”
Sincerity shimmered through his words, and Liam’s anger softened.
“What will you do?” Jago asked. “Sienna shouldn’t have done what she did. She’s our sister, and we love her.” The unspoken message was clear—they stood by her, no matter what.
Loyalty. Liam understood it well, having found it in Middlemarch with Saber and London.
They’d given him opportunities, and Saber had helped him find a job and a place to live.
He’d made friends there, and through them, he grasped the meaning of trust and allegiance.
Something his own family had never shown him.
“My friends will be concerned about me,” Liam said. “There’s so much I don’t remember.” The thought struck straight to the gut. Were these even all his memories? What if there were still gaps?
“Lad, I’m sorry, but that’s the least of our problems,” Hedrek said. “Jamie told us what happened tonight. This will make things a mite difficult for everyone. We’re in danger—every single village resident with feline blood.”
“As long as people don’t start pointing the finger at others,” Kitto said.
“Already happening.” Jamie scowled. “They knew the hunters were coming and still didn’t tell you. That’s messed up, especially when you shift lots and are more likely to get caught.”
Despite trying, Liam couldn’t think of a solution. “How long can you stay here without needing supplies?”
Hedrek paced the cramped hut. “Three weeks. We’ll fish, trap rabbits—whatever we can catch. The meals won’t be fancy, but we’ll make do. I’d rather not leave Tamsin and Sienna on their own for too long.”
Liam nodded and instantly regretted it. He froze, waiting for the knife-like stab to ease at the base of his skull. “Sienna told me a little about what happened. But not everything.”
“She told you?” Hedrek blinked. “But you stayed.”
“I wanted to help. You lot grow on a person.”
“Aw, he likes us,” Jago said.
Liam brushed this aside. “We need to leave the area.”
“How?” Hedrek didn’t bother to hide his frustration. “We’re barely managing now.”
True. Tamsin and Sienna struggled to stay within budget and keep everyone fed and clothed. “I wonder what Sienna did with my wallet and phone. I could call for help.”
Calan tilted his head. “Call someone in Australia?”
“New Zealand. I live in a country town in the South Island,” Liam said. “I work as a farmhand.” He wasn’t sure how long help would take, or if the Feline Council would even assist outsiders.
“What about Sienna?” Hedrek asked.
Sienna had put his job in jeopardy. The farm where he worked was a busy one, and Ted, his boss, was pragmatic. He’d hold Liam’s job temporarily. “I don’t know,” Liam said, wanting honesty.
Hedrek released a harsh sigh. “I understand. Sienna committed a crime.”
But that was the thing—was he angry? Hell, yes. But after living with the Teagues and seeing how hard they worked to survive, he got it. And that understanding made his feelings as tangled as the village’s problems.
Instead of dwelling on Sienna—infuriating, complicated, and far too attractive—Liam forced his focus back to the real issue: finding a solution.
“I’ll ask Sienna what happened to my stuff once we get home.
” His thoughts stuttered because he’d called the Teague house home.
They were genuine, and he liked them. Admired them.
And Sienna, while she’d kidnapped him, hadn’t used her body to trap him into closer ties.
Yes, they’d slept in the same bed and shared a kiss, but she hadn’t let him take things further.
He could walk away, and no one could call him out. No consequences.
Just what every single man wanted.
Jago tapped his arm. “Liam? You keep zoning out on us.”
“Sorry.” Liam scraped his hands across his face and tried to focus. “If we could get my wallet, I could use my credit card for vehicle hire.”
“Me too?” Jamie asked.
“If that’s what you want, lad,” Hedrek said without hesitation.
“We need to earn as much money as we can,” Liam said, thinking aloud. “If the hunters stick around, leaving could get tricky. They might block roads or step things up, acting like they’ve got the law behind them. Now that they’ve seen a big cat, they’ll double down on catching the Beast of Bodmin.”
“Makes sense,” Jago said. “What’ll bring in the most profit?”
“You should make more of the hearts—they’re easy to transport,” Liam said. “And I think mugs with a Beast logo would sell well.”
The Teague men gaped at him before Callan burst out laughing.
“Really?” Hedrek asked.
“Yeah. The deal with the lemonade seller works well, and we’re low on mugs. I think Beast of Bodmin ones would sell fast.”
Hedrek tapped his chin. “How many should we make?”
“Fifty to a hundred,” Liam said. “More if possible.”
“You won’t be able to carry them,” Hedrek said.
“I’ll make as many trips as it takes,” Liam said. “Just focus on the hearts and mugs. Jamie and I can carry back whatever fits.”
Hedrek moved to the doorway and studied the horizon. “Rain’s coming. Stay until tonight. It’ll ease off to a drizzle, and if we’re lucky, it might keep the hunters inside. Now—are either of you any good at drawing?”
“Not me.” Liam grimaced. “I can’t even manage a stick figure.”
“I can,” Jamie said.
“Excellent. Help Kitto. Liam, you look like you need a break.”
“My brain feels like it’s on fire.”
“Not surprised. Jago said you hit a rock—there’s a decent lump on your temple. If you can’t sleep, come sit with me while I work on the mugs,” Hedrek said.
“Um, I have an idea,” Jamie said. “It’s not legal, but it might work.”
Hedrek’s brows rose. “Breaking the law is never a good idea.”
“Let’s listen to Jamie’s idea,” Liam said, his vision wavering.
“The smugglers,” Jamie said. “If we pay them, they might drop us off further up the coast. From another town, it’d be easier to grab a van.”
Hedrek tilted his head, his feline features tightening in thought. Liam waited for him to speak, considering it a solid plan—if they could rely on the smugglers.
“Jamie, lad, that could do the trick. Think they’re trustworthy?”
“No,” Jamie said without hesitation, “but they might do it for the money.”
“How much would they charge? And who would we approach?” Liam asked, trying to think past the throb in his brain.
“If they catch on you’re desperate, they’ll jack up the price. They’ll want to know why you’re trying to bail.”
“Let’s keep this idea for later. We need to make money first, whether we pay them to take us up the coast or walk to get a van,” Liam said.
“There’s another way to make cash,” Jamie said. “One of their ships got hit by a freak wave and lost four crew. That’s what I argued with my dad about. He’s on that crew and wants me to join the smugglers. The pay’s good—as long as you don’t get caught.”
“But you don’t want to join, right?” Liam asked.
“No way. But I’d do it for a bit if it helped me get out. My dad drinks way too much. Mum loves him but never calls him out.”
“I’m sorry, lad,” Hedrek said. “It’s a decision you should never have to make. It’s not right.”
Jamie shrugged, but Liam saw the emotion flashing across his face. “I like your family,” he said, the straightforward honesty striking deep.
Hedrek straightened his shoulders, his pride clear. “Thank you, Jamie, lad.”
“We’d better get to work,” Jago said.
The boys settled at their stations while Jamie worked with Kitto.
Liam tried to stand and swayed. “Hedrek, I need to shift. It might help my head.”
“You do that, lad, and thank you. Sienna may not have done right by you, but having you here gave us the push we needed. We were stuck, unsure how to move forward. I’m grateful for your help and will do everything I can to support you in return.”
“It’s unnecessary.”
“I know,” Hedrek said. “Just like you could’ve walked away once you discovered what my daughter did. Shift, lad. We all need to be at our best if this plan is going to work.”
Liam wobbled as he tried to shrug off his shirt. In the end, Hedrek helped him undress and held him steady, worry etched into his face.
“I don’t like this, lad. We should get a doctor to look at you.” He bit his lip because the local feline doctor might refuse to treat Liam.
“I’ll be fine once I shift.” Liam pushed himself to focus and pictured his leopard. Quick, stabbing shocks speared him, but he held firm, and gradually, his shift began. It was slow, and worry flooded him, but pulling out of his shift halfway through would cause bigger problems.
By the time he sank onto the hut’s earthen floor, Liam was panting, his sides heaving.
He closed his eyes and drew slow, steady breaths to keep panic at bay.
Exhaustion pulled him under, and he let himself drift toward sleep.
He’d rest while Hedrek and the boys handled things, and when he woke, he’d take the hearts and mugs home to Sienna.