Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Wyatt
My body is heavy as stone as I fight to open my eyes. Pushing myself up off the floor takes more effort than it should, but I eventually make it to standing.
What the hell happened?
My throat and mouth are a desert. The pieces click together as I stumble to the kitchen for a glass of water.
After satisfying my thirst, I check the cabin to find out where Andrew is. I need to check on his state of mind. My search is futile. He's gone.
Yanking back the curtain, I see an inky sky, not the noon-day one that was present before our little tryst.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Forcing myself not to panic, I step out onto the porch, tuning my ears to the sounds around me. Maybe he's out hunting.
My thoughts wander back to how Andrew's body felt when I pinned him to the wall, and the exquisite bite of pain his claws provided.
No! I have to focus. Shucking off the tattered remains of my shirt, then stripping off my pants and kicking off my shoes, I give into the shift.
My wolf scents the air, seeking the direction our mate may have gone.
The thread of the mate bond pulls us into the woods where we lose track of time following Andrew's trail. Ultimately, we lose it at the bank of a stream.
The things I've learned about my mate in the time he's been here include the fact he's familiar with the outdoors.
He's purposefully tried to disguise his path.
I search the bond for guidance again. It's still so new, and somewhat unreliable, but it's all I've got.
Andrew's presence feels farther away than I'd like, and I only have a vague indicator of the direction he's gone.
Find mate, my wolf whines, pacing along the water's edge.
I could keep moving in the direction the bond is pulling, but I have no idea how far ahead of me he is, or what I'll find at the other end of my search. The smart thing to do is call in the Pack as reinforcements. But that means questions I don't want to answer.
Just a few more hours of searching. If I haven't found him by morning, I'll suck it up and call my family.