Chapter 19 - Cillian #2
Nothing. His stomach clenched, and his jaw tightened. He didn’t need to look around any further to know that Amber was gone.
He tried to still the swirling panic trying to overtake him. He needed to think rationally. The sound of rustling wind came back to him, followed by a gentle breeze. Turning, his eyes fell on the open window.
Racing over, he grasped the sill and peered down. In the grass, he could barely make out a rectangular patch where all the blades had been pushed flat, as if something had smushed it down. Around the base of the large tree next to him, he could make out footprints.
He stared for a long time, as if trying to picture what must have happened, though he already knew.
After a moment, he twisted to look back at the empty room, as if she would suddenly appear at the door, though he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
The breeze pushed against his back, brushing his hair forward.
She’s gone, a voice in his head whispered. She left, and she’s not coming back.
He stepped away from the window, pushing his hair away from his face. It was his fault. She wouldn’t have run if it hadn’t been for him. There was no use denying it. Trying to ignore that fact wasn’t going to do any of them any good.
Amber was gone.
The question was, what did he do now?
He could simply let her go. If she was going to run like this, then it was clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
If this was her decision, he had to honor it.
He didn’t want to force her back here if she didn’t want to be here, not after everything he had done.
If he didn’t go after her, then she could live her life and do what she wanted.
He pushed that thought from his mind instantly.
No. She was his wife, no matter what. More importantly, he loved her, and he wasn’t going to let her walk away without apologizing for what he had done to her first. He wouldn’t force her to stay with him, not anymore, but he was going to find her.
Even if she still decided to leave, he wanted to make amends first. She deserved an apology. She deserved more.
Closing the window, he made his way out of the house until he was right below her room.
Craning his neck, he stared up at the light spilling out of the empty room.
Despite everything, he couldn’t help but feel a flash of admiration.
He wouldn’t have expected her to scale a tree to get down. She was always full of surprises.
Turning away from the house, he headed over to where the bag had pressed against the earth. Her scent was faded, but not too far gone that he couldn’t follow it. He needed to get started. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to detect, and the farther she would get.
He shifted into a wolf and hurried into the trees. Tracking the scent through the woods, he moved through the trees at a quick pace. Not as fast as he would have liked, but her scent was fading, and he didn’t want to step off the path.
At some point, though, another smell mixed with Amber’s scent. Fear. Cillian froze, pausing long enough to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. But no. Something had happened to frighten Amber.
He kept tracking her, moving faster, more urgently. The stench of fear grew stronger, nearly palpable. He tried to keep his mind steady, but all he could think about was Amber and what on earth could have made her this terrified.
He came to a stop when he stumbled across a battered duffel bag that had fallen on its side.
Amber’s. He growled, his intuition prickling at him, telling him that something was terribly wrong.
There were any number of reasons that she might have abandoned the bag, and none of them were good.
He sniffed again, hoping to catch her trail once more.
He stiffened when he realized her scent had joined with several others. One of them was slightly familiar, though he couldn’t place it initially. It wasn’t until he realized that Amber’s own scent had an underlying note of fear that he recognized the other scent that had been nagging at him.
It was Eric’s.
Eric had Amber.
Cillian froze, his entire body going rigid. Then his eyes narrowed, a low growl escaping his throat. His claws dug into the earth.
After that first moment of pure rage, he began to think. His gut was to go after her right then and there, to track their scent and rip Eric to shreds the second he saw him.
Somehow, he managed to resist the impulse. That impulsivity was half the reason they had gotten into this mess in the first place. Amber was already in enough danger without him rushing in without a plan. As much as he wanted to help her, he needed a plan first.
Shifting to human, he dug into the pack he’d carried on his back as a wolf. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“What’s up?” Camden asked when he picked up.
“Eric’s got Amber,” he said. “I’ve got their scent. I could probably track them to their hideout, but I’m not going to go after him alone.”
“Fuck,” Camden said.
Cillian heard mumblings on the other end of the line. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Camden to relay the information. It seemed to take a lifetime before Camden returned to the phone and said, “Get to the pack house. We’ll make a plan and go from there.”
Cillian wanted to argue. He had their scent right there.
The longer they waited, the more that scent would fade, and the harder it would be for them to track.
He managed to bite down the argument. As much as he hated it, Camden was right.
They needed a plan. They couldn’t just rush in, no matter how badly he wanted to.
“Right,” Cillian muttered.
He hung up and took one last look in the direction the scents wandered off. The need to race after them, to rescue Amber as quickly as possible, reared its head once more. It took nearly all his strength not to act on that urge and instead turn around and race toward the pack house.
I’ll be there soon, Amber, he thought. Just hold on.