Chapter 21
Kane
Her scent tears through the air—sharp with salt and adrenaline and heartbreak. She isn’t thinking clearly, I know that much. And her intentions are so fucking jumbled right now, so unpredictable, I can’t even read them.
All I know is she’s running.
I spot a creek bed and my flannel shirt buried in the mud.
“Blair!” I call out for her.
I move farther into the forest, trying to follow her scent, but it fractures when I reach another small creek bed. The gravel is disturbed, and I can see an imprint of her shoe in the mud.
But still, she’s nowhere to be found.
Fuck!
It takes me a moment to catch her scent again, but when I do, I pick up my pace, sprinting as hard and fast as I can. And I don’t stop running until I’m out of the forest and my boots hit pavement.
Her scent is strong here. Fear. Exhaustion. Damp cotton.
But so is the smell of gasoline and rubber and other humans.
I crouch down and press my hand briefly to the asphalt of the road and feel the warmth of fresh tires. Instantly, I know she didn’t keep running. She caught a ride.
Fuck!
“I fucked up,” I say loud enough in hopes that my brother Cal’s super ears will hear.
Not even ten seconds later, inside my head, Rook’s voice cuts through. What’s going on?
Blair’s gone, I answer back through my thoughts. She ran. Through the forest. Hit the road. Hitched a ride.
Fuck. Where are you? Rook questions.
Rural road east of the cabin, my mind responds. Pretty sure she’s heading toward Ashford Hollow.
I straighten and turn toward the direction of the nearest town. It’s the only place within a reasonable distance. If she got picked up, that has to be where they’re headed.
I move along the tree line instead of the road. I run as fast as I fucking can but still controlled enough not to draw attention. Halfway there, her scent strengthens briefly.
Then fades.
Then strengthens again.
Vehicle. Windows down. Older humans.
I can almost reconstruct the current scene in my head.
Fuck. The only reason I’m in this fucking situation is because I hesitated when she first walked into the forest, determined to give her space.
Cal’s coming to help, Rook tells me.
I keep running. My chest throbs with discomfort of her being so far away from me, of her unknowingly putting herself at risk like this.
And I silently hope I can get to her before something terrible happens.
I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve remembered that we’re not just lovers—we’re mates. And that means everything is exponentially worse when we’re apart.