Chapter 12
Ezra could sense the tingle of the ward he'd set up.
He should've brought a knife. He hadn't excluded himself from it.
He'd made sure Ulric wouldn't be given constant warning of him while he was in the warded area, but he hadn't made it so the ward wouldn't send a signal if he passed through.
He'd been too drained to think when he'd linked everything together.
Maybe the warning only would last for a second since he was leaving, but he couldn't risk it.
Rourke and the others would be there within minutes, and then he'd be punished for sure. It was a miracle they hadn't come after him yet. Every second counted. Shifters moved much faster than he did, so he needed any head start he could get.
Looking around the ground, he grabbed a stick. Ugh, he didn't want to do this.
With a deep breath, he pushed up the sleeve of his left arm. Ulric had reopened one of the wounds when he'd grabbed him earlier. It wouldn't take much to get it to bleed again.
He stared at the stick, then at the cuts on his arm. In the end, he dropped the stick, grabbed his arm, and twisted, causing the scabbed-over areas to break.
When a few drops of blood welled up, he slammed the arm against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. He could see the web inside his head, lifted the thread, and slipped past. Then he reattached it to the net and blew out a breath.
Ulric would be warned if anyone crossed. Ezra might want to get away, but he didn't want anyone to get hurt, so leaving the ward down wasn't an option.
He walked with the sleeve rolled up for a bit, not wanting the fabric to stick to the wound.
Dusk was falling, and he didn't want to be in the woods during the night. If he could find a road, he could keep walking, but walking in the middle of the forest would most likely lead to a broken ankle or something.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten in a long time. Fuck. Hopelessness welled up inside. He couldn't do this. He'd never been on his own, had never been trusted to make any decisions. What had made him think he'd survive in a town surrounded by strangers?
He almost tripped on a branch on the ground and cursed out loud. A bird cawed in the distance, and Ezra froze. Was it a warning sound? Was something heading his way?
Hurrying along, he headed in the opposite direction of where the bird had been.
His breath came in pants, but he kept going until he tasted blood at the back of his throat.
He was so unfit it was laughable. He only ever walked between his hut and the main building, carried nothing heavier than grocery bags when they were delivered to the hamlet.
If he got out of this, he'd start jogging.
The trees changed, went from conifer to oaks, maples, and beeches.
He allowed himself a quick stop simply to take it in.
There was something about old trees with gnarly branches.
Soon the tiny buds would grow and form leaves.
He could almost sense the pulse of life waiting to break free.
A few more weeks, then spring would be here.
He found a game trail and followed it. It was getting darker, but he hoped it would take him to a road soon.
Half an hour later, he found himself on a clear-cut slope, and a lump formed in his throat. There was brushwood on the ground, and he stumbled more than once.
Apart from the occasional bird, there were no sounds. A shiver went through him. He couldn't keep going. It was too dark. He had no idea where he was. If he got hurt, no one would find him. He'd die here. Alone and hungry.
Tears stung his eyes. He should've known he couldn't do it. Stupid. Shixyll was right to forbid him to buy books if these were the kinds of ideas they gave him.
Shelter. He had to find somewhere dry and protected to curl up for the night.
* * * *
Rourke went into his room only to still. Ezra wasn't there. Everything was exactly as it had been when he'd left hours earlier. The counter was cluttered with bowls and spoons, sheets, and cooling racks.
He winced as he looked at the cookies in the trash.
"Ezra?" He peeked underneath the bed and in the closet since they were the only possible places he could hide.
He wouldn't crawl into a cupboard, would he? He inhaled to try to locate him, but his scent was everywhere, and so was the scent of cookies.
Could he have gone to Ulric's? A low growl took form in his chest, but he cut it off. Stupid. He would not be jealous of Ulric. He was aware he hadn't made it easy for Ezra to come to him. Did he know where the office was? He winced. Fuck, he'd only showed him the room and the dining hall.
Knocking on Ulric's door, he didn't wait for a reply before he stepped inside. Ulric looked up from where he was lounging on his couch watching TV. "Hi."
Rourke scanned the room. "Is Ezra with you?"
Ulric looked around the room too as if he'd missed Ezra being there. "No, haven't seen him since the cookie incident."
Rourke frowned. Would he have gone to Geri's? He didn't think so, but he turned around and headed out into the corridor. Ulric followed him. "What's going on?"
"He's not in the room, and it doesn't look as if he's touched anything since I was there last."
Ulric rubbed his neck and fell into step next to Rourke. They hardly fit next to each other in the corridor, and their shoulders brushed every third step or so.
When they reached Geri's room, Rourke knocked but didn't open the door like he had with Ulric's. Geri was a more private man and wouldn't appreciate people stumbling in without warning.
The door opened, and Geri's gaze jumped between Rourke and Ulric. "What happened?" His eyes turned wolf. "Is there another kitten? Did they attack?"
"No. I can't find Ezra."
Geri's eyes widened. "Did he leave the room?"
His question shouldn't make Rourke feel bad, but fuck. Ezra never left the room, did he? "Did anyone see him in the dining hall?"
Geri shook his head.
"No." Ulric sighed. "I don't think he eats as he should."
Shit, Due was right. He was a crappy mate.
"Would he go to Farkas?"
"Farkas?" Geri's voice was full of disbelief.
No one went to Farkas, but Rourke shrugged. "As far as I know, he's only spoken to the two of you and Farkas."
"It would surprise me if he was in Farkas' cabin, but I guess we can check." Geri grabbed his phone off the small table right inside the door, then he stepped out into the corridor.
They went outside. Farkas lived in one of the cabins next to the main house. In all honesty, it was more of a shed. Rourke winced as he took in the state of it. It was leaning slightly, the paint flaking, and it was tiny. He knocked on the door and waited.
A few seconds later, Farkas opened the door.
His form more or less filled the frame despite him being half the size he'd been before he was taken by witches.
Rourke could glimpse an unmade bed inside, the small kitchenette had a few dirty dishes on the counter, and there was one spindly table with a single chair.
The door to the bathroom was closed, but Rourke didn't think Ezra was in there.
"Have you seen Ezra?"
"Not since..." He waved toward the main building. "Why?"
"I can't find him, and no one has seen him."
Farkas pursed his lips. "Can he have gone back to his clan?"
There was a clawing in Rourke's chest. "No. Why would he?"
Farkas shrugged. "I don't know. I was only thinking about where he'd go. If he felt unsafe here, where would he go?"
"He's not unsafe."
"No? You looked ready to rip him apart when you entered the room. What did you do after we left? Did you calm him?"
The look on his face must've been answer enough because Farkas shrugged. "So where would he feel safe? Where would he go to hide from you?"
Hide from him? He was Ezra's mate. He shouldn't want to hide from him.
"Can't you track him through the mate bond?" Geri frowned at the hand Rourke hadn't known he was rubbing against his chest.
"No. I don't know if it hasn't manifested properly yet or if Ezra is blocking me somehow. He should've tapped into my power when he drained himself setting up the wards, but he didn't."
The next second, a sound best described as a hiss came from Ulric, and he shuddered before pushing up the sleeve of his shirt to show them the goosebumps. "Witch at the door."
Rourke snarled, then he calmed. "Is it Ezra?"
Ulric shrugged. "No idea."
It had to be, right? He'd crossed the border. What the hell was he doing outside? He couldn't see in the dark, and it was falling fast now.
A car rolled up the gravel road.
"Not Ezra." Ulric stared at it. "Unless he's somehow gotten a car."
The car came to a stop, and the male who'd handed Ezra over stepped out.
"What the fuck?" They all moved to meet him, and he raised his hands as if he expected them to attack. Raised hands meant nothing when it came to witches. They could draw power with them in the air.
"Alpha Flint." He dipped his head, not respectfully but in acknowledgment nonetheless.
"Yes." Did he ask his name? "What's your name?"
He hesitated for a moment. "Jiprix."
"What can I do for you, Jiprix?" He'd ask Ezra who he was later. If he could find him.
"I need a word with Ezra."
"Why?" Shit, he couldn't tell him he'd misplaced his mate, it would look bad on so many levels.
"It's...eh...private."
"I'm his mate."
"I only need a quick word. If you could show me to his hut?" His expression gave nothing away, and Rourke took in all the piercings, tattoos, and braids and was once again grateful for how Ezra looked.
"He's not available at the moment."
A small crease formed between Jiprix's brows, but he smoothed it out in the next moment. "You wanted an alliance, Mr. Flint. I'm asking for Ezra's help."
"Help with what?" What could Ezra do for them? He didn't think they valued him.
Jiprix sighed dramatically. "Is this how things will be? You don't allow him visitors? Fine. I was wondering if Ezra could bake us some cookies."
Everyone stilled.
"Why?"
Jiprix scowled at him. The scent of rot intensified as if he was gearing up to throw a curse at them.
Then he shook his head, and it ebbed away.
Interesting. Ezra never smelled of rot. "Shixyll might have underestimated his importance to the clan.
Some lacy oatmeal cookies aren't too much to ask, is it? "
"Isn't it? We found a kitten in our woods. A violation of our privacy, wouldn't you say? And yet you have the audacity to come here and beg for cookies."
Anger flared in Jiprix's eyes. "We have children who are sick. They need rest to be able to heal."
"There are sleeping pills in the drug store."
"They don't help, and you know it. Ezra would never let a child suffer when he can help."
Rourke didn't like the idea of children suffering either. "As I said, Ezra is indisposed at the moment."
"He must've baked something by now. It's been days."
It had been days, but why did it matter? "He might, but wolves are hungry."
Jiprix looked toward the forest. "There is nothing left? Or food. Soup or stew or whatever. It doesn't matter what it is."
Rourke met Ulric's gaze. "I'll go look. You stay here." He gestured at all four of them. He'd pick the cookies from the trash, and then he'd talk to Ezra once he found him.
* * * *
Ezra stumbled in the dark. He couldn't find anywhere to rest, and now that he was moving slowly, the cold had gotten hold of him.
Should he climb a tree? No, he'd most likely fall out as he slept. If he'd be able to sleep.
He was tired and hungry, and his feet were hurting. The sneakers he wore were old and the soles worn thin. The dampness of the ground had seeped into his socks, and his toes ached from it.
He was so stupid. How had he ever believed he'd make it out of the forest alive? He didn't know where he was. Maybe he'd already passed a town or maybe he was walking in circles. Either way, he needed to stop and wait for daylight.
A shiver took hold of him, and he allowed a small sound to escape.
If he only could make it through the night, then he'd have all day tomorrow to find somewhere to stay.
He could do it, right? He'd gone without food before.
He'd been cold before. He had never been on his own before without anyone to ask for help, but he was an adult man.
The others in his clan might not treat him as one, and Rourke might see him more like a prisoner than a real person, but he could do this. Right?
Fuck, it was cold.
He stumbled on something and thumped against the ground hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. When he could breathe, all he could scent was the fragrance of the forest floor.
He had to stop. Next, he'd step into a hole and break a leg. With a sigh, he crawled up on his feet and tried to get a feel of the area around him. Not even the moon was cooperating. There was no light at all.
Slowly moving forward, he traced his fingers over the bumpy trunk of what had to be an oak. He should set up a ward. If he made a small circle around himself, he'd feel if something came close. Damn, he should've done it sooner when he'd still been able to see.
He took a couple of steps away from the trunk and clawed at his arm where he'd bled earlier.
It stung, and wetness coated his fingers.
He held the wound against a stone to anchor the spell.
Then he took two steps forward and put an invisible pin on a fallen log.
The circle was small. He didn't dare walk more than a couple of steps before making another focal point.
He rounded the oak and made his way to the stone, completing the circle.
Exhaustion tugged at him as the web connected. He set it to react to everything. He didn't want to wake up face-to-face with a badger or something. If he'd was to sleep at all.
A sliver of fear wrapped around his spine. What if he didn't wake?
He did his best to quiet the voice in his mind and curled up against the oak's trunk.
* * * *