Chapter 11 Mona
Before we reach the border, Silas pulls into a park and ride, off the highway. Silent conversations pass between the two of them as they look out over the parking lot and to each other.
It makes me want to scream.
They’re both closed off from me, treating me like I’m precious cargo. Fulfilling their duty by returning me to my rightful owners.
That’s exactly what this feels like, and I’m getting tired of it. We exit the car, and Silas’s fingers brush mine. His jaw clenches, yanking the backpack away so I have nothing to do with my hands. Ghost isn’t any better.
I feel wild inside my head. Confused and emotional.
On the verge of flipping out.
A van pulls into the parking lot, does a sweep through the rows, then idles off to the side, waiting for carpool passengers. Ghost approaches the driver, who rolls down his window.
The man nods, then hands over his phone.
Across the lot, Ghost turns to look at me while he nods along to whatever the person on the other line is saying. I could listen if I wanted to.
I don’t.
He walks back over to us and, without a word, slips into the woods. Silas waits for me, so I follow. We aren’t too far in before they strip down, stuffing their clothes into the backpack.
“Umm…”
“Take off your clothes,” Silas says gruffly. He stands close, towering over me. It reminds me of that party, how we met. When he leaned in close, hovered with all his masculine prowess in my personal space.
I swallow, and his voice turns husky. “Now, pet. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.”
“You’re already peeking.”
He smirks, then turns away. They’ve both seen me naked.
Worse, they’ve seen me masturbate about a million times in a row, but this somehow feels more intimate.
I strip off my clothes, and as I do, both men shift.
Silas, much like his brother, shifts into a sleek, overgrown black wolf.
He’s huge, and the scars marring his human body are present in wolf form.
I try not to stare, and only when Ghost shifts am I able to look away.
Because it is a sight.
Ghost holds his arms out, which sprout long feathers shimmering along his dark skin, and then he tucks his head, and when he snaps back up, his whole body transforms. Feet sharpen into talons, his chest thickening into a thick, sleek, feathered torso.
A falcon. Or, like an ancient, prehistoric, gigantic falcon with an extra set of talons where his fingers would be, some amalgam of shifter and witch.
His beak is sharp, claws deadly. And he’s massive, far bigger than a normal bird. His wings flap once, twice, and I can feel the magic in the air—it pours out of him. He’s incredible.
Then he looks at me pointedly. Waiting.
Well, shit.
Beep? I ask.
I’m already working on it. Don’t be embarrassed. It won’t take that long, she assures me.
It’s a lie. It takes us almost five minutes, but it’s better than it used to be.
Both shifters look at me with worry in their eyes.
I can feel Silas’s concern along our bond, which he’s gone back to leaving partially muted, since he either can’t make up his mind or has no clue what he’s doing, but I ignore him. Ghost cocks his head, curious.
Eventually, I fall to my knees, and while I try not to resist the change, I do my best to just let Beep do her thing. It’s a relief when she fully takes over. Ghost kicks off, then rises high, up through the trees, into the sky.
Our backpack with our things gets draped around Silas’s wolf’s neck.
See how easy that is? I say to Beep. He just picked up the bag and carried it. Isn’t that nice of his wolf?
Beep ignores me. Her ass left all our shit in the woods so many times when we were on the road, and she always acted like it was a huge inconvenience to carry it.
Big inconvenience. The material chafes, she complains.
I laugh to myself as we trot through the woods.
It doesn’t take long, and I don’t know how they can tell once we’re past the border.
Maybe Ghost knows. Maybe he flies miles away from us, I don’t know.
I lost track of him the moment he flew up and tried to quell the rising panic in my chest that my mate isn’t close.
That the parking lot off the side of the highway might be the last time I ever see him.
I breathe in the scents around us, trying to appreciate the pines and minerals, and Silas’s petrichor, citrusy scent.
Silas runs faster, and Beep keeps up while I panic, trapped in a wolf’s body, unable to do anything but go along with all this. His wolf keeps pausing to look back, to make sure we’re still here.
We race through the forest for what feels like forever, the day slipping by as time passes. When we finally hit a stretch of road and I spot signs for Jackman, my heart leaps.
Home. So close now. I don’t care if we have to run every last step; I just need to get there. We keep the same pace until we see signs for the mountain range.
On the edge of an empty stretch of road, Silas pauses.
He looks up to the sky, then shifts back.
I can’t help but appreciate his nakedness.
He isn’t hard, but he isn’t exactly soft, either.
He’s too big, too broad. He’s less bulky than Grayson, but they have the same frame.
His abs flex as he bends at the waist and opens the backpack.
The shifting sensation tingles along my arms and legs.
Silas gets dressed and waits patiently. I try not to be too embarrassed.
Eventually I have my body back, a smoother and quicker transformation this time.
Silas holds out my clothes, and there’s no mistaking the heat in his eyes as I get dressed.
He doesn’t turn away this time, like he did before. I let him look.
I even pause, shirtless, and try to catch his eyes, which are glued to my breasts, a slight frown accentuating the scar above his eye. His scent shifts, his feelings breaking through the guard he put on our bond. Desire. It pulses out of him.
Just as quickly, it disappears, and he turns and gives me his back, letting out a frustrated sound.
This time, after I dress, I snatch the backpack, needing something to hold onto. Silas doesn’t protest, and we begin walking.
I hear a high-pitched whistle in the distance. Silas looks up toward the bird’s sound but keeps walking. I know it’s a signal, some type of communication between the two, but all I hear is Ghost hovering just out of reach.
“Why don’t we stay in wolf form?” I ask, since we’re just walking now. Running, shifted, seems faster.
“Waiting for a ride.”
“From who?”
Silas fidgets nervously. Oh.
Oh.
I’m so eager to see Grayson and Orion, I nearly squeal, gasping with excitement. But then I take in his expression.
I can’t imagine what this is like for him. What he’s feeling right now. He’d never admit it, and he’s not telling me anything through the bond, but he’s probably feeling pretty anxious about seeing his pack mates for the first time in five years.
My heart flutters as I try to look around, to give myself something else to focus on, to obsess over. Silas walks with determination. His muscles flex beneath his shirt, and again, I have to look away.
A few cars pass us as we walk. Almost all of them slow down. Not many people live out here, so two strangers walking down a long dirt road in the middle of nowhere in Maine stand out.
There’s nothing distinct about the next car approaching, but something inside me tells me to stop walking. To turn. Silas notices and does the same. The SUV barely brakes before the doors swing open.
I freeze in place. My vision clouds with tears. My heart beats so fast it nearly explodes in my chest. Elation. Joy. Love and happiness, the fucking angst from being away from them, it all leaks out of me, my scent, my pheromones, grasping for my mates who barrel toward me.
Grayson reaches me first, and I’m swept up in his arms. I’m sobbing, and I suck in gulps of his cinnamon fire scent. He holds me so tightly I can’t breathe, but I’d never tell him to let go. I want to drown in him.
Orion barely manages to work his fingers between Grayson and me before I’m peeled off him and then buried in Orion’s arms. Chocolate and hazelnut, warm and sweet and so fucking wonderful. He’s crying, and he holds me as if he’ll never let go.
Grayson presses against my back, both men whispering frantic sweet-nothings, promises, vows, apologies. It’s too much to absorb, and I can barely see straight through the tears.
“I never should have left,” Grayson breathes. “Please forgive me. I love you so much.”
Between peppering me with kisses, Orion murmurs, “Firefly, I missed you so much. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“We need to get off the road,” Silas abruptly snaps.
Finally, Grayson turns and sees his brother. Silas’s face contorts, his upper lip curling back, revealing sharp teeth as his gaze sweeps over the three of us.
And I feel a moment of guilt that he’s left out. But then I remember what he said at the cabin. He doesn’t want me. This. Us.
I squeeze Grayson’s hand. “He’s right. Deidre isn’t far behind. Apparently she’s got a bunch of my blood and is tracking us.”
“What?” he yells.
Orion places one hand on my lower back, urging me toward the waiting car. Eli is grinning in the driver’s seat. He tilts his head in greeting, but doesn’t interrupt the intense reunion. Grayson doesn’t know what to do or say about Silas.
So, he does what he usually does. Slips into alpha-mode.
“How much time do we have?”
Silas shrugs. “Enough to get back to the clan.” He points to the sky. “Ghost is cloaking us for now, but we need to get moving.”
Grayson nods. “The Ghost is the one who called Kendrick, told us where to pick you up. Good he’s following us back, I’d like to thank him before he takes off.”
A keening sound slips from my throat. My omega whimpers, a sharp ache in my heart. Grayson’s eyes shoot to me, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong. Silas rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. To me, he says, “He’s following. He’ll meet us there. This thing isn’t over yet.”
If I were a weaker person, I might hope for a double meaning in those words. But I’ve been through too much to think that he means us.
This thing was over before it began.
I just… I really fucking hope they let me say goodbye.