I can’t remember the last time I ate a proper meal.
My eyes close, and I wrap my arms around my knees as I huddle under the bush. Every time I think I can’t possibly hurt any more, something else hits me over and over again. I’m nothing but a handful of fractured pieces stitched together by sheer fucking will at this point.
My closed fist rubs frantically against my chest. How could they?
I’m their Soul Bonded. Their fated gods damned fuckingmate.
And even despite everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, this is one twist I didn’t see coming.
But then I guess I never really knew them at all.
The light is fading rapidly now. Digging my hands into the dirt, I scrape away until I reach a damper, wetter section. Gingerly, I claw at it with my hands, gathering clumps and rubbing it into my hair.
Having pink hair in a green forest will be a fucking beacon if any of them spot me.
I’d get rid of this dress, too, except it’s the only item of clothing I have. The beading is broken now, the pale blush color streaked with mud and filth from the forest floor. Ireallydon’t have a good track record with dresses.
Adding to the dirt, I rub as much as I can into the soft material until it’s stiff and dark and not anything near its original palest pink.
It’s the best I can do.
It’s close to dusk by the time I gather the courage to leave my little bush, gingerly crawling out and listening for any sign of the three males coming back. I move away and head in the opposite direction, but my steps gradually falter, my breathing choppy and harsh as I list from one tree to the other until the thick trunks are the only thing keeping me upright. Pain pulses dully inside my head, and I’d fucking kill for some water.
Just the tiniest sip.
A desperate noise leaves my mouth when I finally spot an opening in the trees, a worn path forming in the ground ahead of me. At this stage, I don’t even care where it goes, relief making my head spin as I stagger through the gap and spot a low, timber building ahead of me. Warm lights flicker in the window, a hint of gray smoke curling from a small chimney on the roof.
My body is screaming, but I force myself to pause, to think.
They could be anyone. They could be part of the group I overheard earlier.
Instead of heading directly for the door and the promise of water like I desperately want to do, I take slow, measured steps as I look around me. There’s no sign of life out here, nobody to spot me slipping around the back of the building.
There’s some sort of barn ahead and I try the door, letting out a breath when it opens smoothly under my hands. I don’t bother looking for a light, my eyes landing straight on a crate of drinks.
It takes precious, shaking minutes to pry the lid open, and I send a silent apology to the owner as I snap open a can of soda. It’s not the water I need, but it’ll do, the fizz grating on my aching throat as I chug it down before I force myself to take a breath and look around.
It’s some sort of storage area, the stacks of boxes giving me echoes of my shitty little excuse for a nest.
My hand clenches around the can, and I shove those memories down.
I’ll never see that room again.
Edging past the stacks, I find a small corner to curl up in, grabbing a large, empty burlap sack from a stash to the side to pull over me.
I just need a little rest. A few hours to close my eyes, and hopefully stave off the pain radiating against my insides.
A few hours to forget the agony in my chest for the family I left behind.
And for the pack who sent me here.
TRISTAN
SEVEN HOURS EARLIER
My eyes stay glued to the gates until well after Mal has pulled out in the escalade, taking Sienna with him.
My Soul Bonded chose to travel alone to our Mating Ceremony rather than sit in an enclosed space with us for the journey. With me.
