Chapter 17 #2
I jumped out of the car before it fully stopped. I ran into the lobby.
The RA looked up, startled. "Dante? Aren't you in Buffalo?"
"Where is she?" I demanded, slamming my hands on the desk. "Arabella Thorne. Room 4B."
The RA flinched. "She... she checked out."
My heart stopped.
"Checked out? When?"
"This morning," the girl said, checking her computer. "She turned in her key. She graduated early. Summa Cum Laude."
"Where did she go?" I roared.
"I don't know!" the girl squeaked. "She had suitcases. A town car picked her up."
A town car. Her father.
I ran back to the car.
"She's gone," I told Jax, breathless. "Checked out this morning."
"Airport?" Jax suggested. "If she's going to London..."
"Sea-Tac," I said. "It's three hours away."
"We can make it in two," Jax said, revving the engine.
"Wait," I said. I looked at the campus. I looked at the Ice Garden in the distance.
Something felt wrong.
She wouldn't just leave. Not without saying goodbye to the places. She was sentimental. She loved the myths.
"Not the airport," I said. "The mountain."
"What?"
"The lookout," I said. "Where I took her. Where we... where we screamed."
"Dante, if she's leaving the country, she's not hiking," Jax argued.
"Just trust me," I said. "The bond... it's pulling me. It's pulling me up."
Jax looked at me. He saw the amber glowing in my eyes.
"Okay," he said. "To the mountain."
We drove up the logging road.
The snow was melting now, turning to slush. The truck bounced and skidded.
We reached the lookout.
There was no town car. No taxi.
Just a figure.
Sitting on the edge of the cliff, wrapped in a cream coat, looking out at the valley.
"Stop," I whispered.
Jax killed the engine.
I got out.
The wind was howling up here. It masked the sound of my approach.
I walked toward her. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
She looked small. Fragile. Alone.
She was holding something in her hand. A piece of paper.
I got closer. I saw what it was.
It was the photo. The one Markus took. She was staring at it, tracing my face with her thumb.
She was crying.
"I miss you," she whispered to the empty air. "I miss you so much, Wolf Boy."
I stopped five feet behind her.
"Then why did you leave?" I asked.
She froze. She went rigid.
She turned around slowly, as if she was afraid I was a hallucination.
When she saw me—standing there in my rumpled travel clothes, unshaven, wild-eyed—her mouth fell open.
"Dante?" she breathed. "You're... you're in Buffalo."
"No," I said, stepping closer. "I'm here."
"But... the draft," she stammered, scrambling to her feet. She tried to hide the photo behind her back. "The Combine. You have to be there. If you're not there..."
"I walked out," I said.
Her eyes widened in horror. "You what?"
"I walked out of dinner with Reed," I said. "I told him to keep the pick."
"Why?" she screamed. "Why would you do that? I did everything! I lied! I signed the paper! I broke your heart! I did everything to get you there!"
"I know," I said. I was crying too now. "I know what you did, Arabella. Reed told me your dad called him. I put the pieces together."
"You... you know?"
"I know you saved me," I said. "And I know you love me."
She sobbed, a wretched sound. "I had to! He was going to destroy you!"
"He can't destroy me," I said. "Because I don't care about the hockey, Ara. I don't care about the legacy. I don't care about the money."
I closed the distance between us. I grabbed her face in my hands.
"I only care about the house," I whispered. "The one with the thick walls. And the library. And you."
"But you worked so hard," she wept. "It was your dream."
"You are the dream," I said fiercely. "You are the mate. You are the soul."
I kissed her.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a collision. It was relief and rage and love all mixed together.
She melted against me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on for dear life.
"I'm sorry," she cried against my mouth. "I'm so sorry I hurt you."
"I forgive you," I promised. "But don't you ever lie to me again. Don't you ever decide my future for me."
"I won't," she vowed. "Never again."
I pulled back. I wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"So," I said, breathing hard. "Are you going to London?"
She shook her head. "I missed my flight."
"Good."
"What do we do now?" she asked. "My dad... the investigation..."
"Let him investigate," I said. "Let him come. I'm not hiding anymore. I'm claiming you, Arabella. Publicly. Legally. Biologically. If he wants to fight a bonded pair... let him try."
She smiled. It was watery and weak, but it was real.
"He's going to be so mad."
"He'll get over it," I said. "Or he won't. I don't care."
I looked over at Jax’s car. Jax was leaning against the hood, giving us a thumbs up.
"Come on," I said, wrapping my arm around her waist. "Let's go home."
"To the Hive?" she asked.
"No," I said. "We're getting a hotel. A nice one. With room service. And we're not leaving for a week."
"A week?" she laughed.
"At least," I growled, nipping her ear. "I have a lot of making up to do. And I plan on being very... thorough."
She shivered. "I'm counting on it."
We walked back to the car together. The grey sky broke, just for a moment, letting a ray of sunlight hit the snow.
The machine was dead. The monster was tamed.
And the man... the man finally had everything he needed.