He didn’t want to think of life without him, but the fact Christian hadn’t stopped to consider Dave’s wishes had something ugly opening up deep inside him. Something that said theirs never had been an equal relationship, that Christian had only loved him because he’d bent himself to fit. The way Dave had always done with everyone, so no one would leave.
He squeezed his eyes shut. No. He wasn’t going to think like that. Maybe when he saw Christian again, Christian would have changed his mind about Barton’s pack, and they could go back to Elk Ridge and everything would be just the way it always had been. And he ignored that strange, dark, cold thing inside him that whispered that was no longer enough.
He concentrated instead on the immediate future. He needed to move to the face of the cliff and the protection it offered. Although the nights weren’tthatcold yet, he wasn’t dressed for this, and the cliff would hold some of the day’s heat for a while.
He didn’t want to move, but then, there were a whole lot of things he hadn’t wanted to do in his life that he’d done anyway. Dave gritted his teeth and began to push himself across the rock floor.
Chapter Twenty-four
CHRISTIAN
Christian lasted twenty minutes. Every time a car pulled into the lot outside, he sprang up from the bed and marched to the window, and for a town this size, there were a hell of a lot of comings and goings. Maybe this was one of those by-the-hour places. Each time, hope lifted, and then fell hard. Where the hell was Dave?
He sat again, fists clenching as he thought it through. Dave obviously wasn’t with that Justin guy, because he’d been at the cannery. Not that Dave would be with him likethat,Christian knew, but he was the only person approaching a friend Dave had here. Dave wasn’t the sort to find solace in a bar somewhere. Whenever anything was on his mind, he’d head for open country.
The answer was suddenly obvious—there was one place they both knew that was open enough to soothe Dave’s soul. But it was twenty fucking miles away. He looked at the time. He’d be cuttingit fine to get there and back in time for tonight’s fight. The one Barton had called make-or-break.
He could leave a note, and if Dave came back while he was fighting, he’d wait until Christian was done so they could sort this out. And maybe a note would tell Dave—wrongly, disastrously—that the fight meant more than he did, and he’d pack up and leave while Christian was still in the cage.
As the fear took root, something coiled around his lungs, making it so he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t lose Dave. He couldn’t. He grabbed the keys to Stefan’s truck and headed out.
DAVE
Dave eventually decided to undo his laces but keep the boot on—it seemed like a reasonable compromise. Undoing the laces had been harder than he’d thought, his hands bruised and lacerated from where he’d grabbed at the cliff face to try and save himself.
Fiddling with his bootlaces had at least given him something to do for a while, because it was going to be a long night. A long, lonely, dark night. He was just thankful that nowhere up here had he felt any echoes from the violent deaths of Jesse’s pack. That kind of pain could linger—Dave had walked through places where it choked the air. But not here.
He was idly turning that thought over as he sat against the cliff wall, watching the shadows grow around him and feeling the air cool, when something occurred to him. If Justin had seen bodies after the massacre, why hadn’t he and Christian found anything? Some of the bones would have been disturbed by now, but they’d have foundsomekind of remains. Someone must have come along after Justin had been there and laid those poor souls to rest.
Wanting distraction from such melancholy thoughts, he felt in his pocket for the other peppermint, even though he had asuspicion it might be one Diablo had lipped at and then refused as being too stale for his spoiled tastes.
With no other options, he tried to appreciate being up here, where it felt like the roof of the world. Countless members of Jesse’s pack might have sat in this very spot over the years. The thought gave him a sense of warmth, of continuity and community—things he knew he’d never find in Barton’s pack.
He sighed as he thought of the fierce hope in Christian’s eyes about staying here. Barton was offering him somewhere to belong, something he’d decided Elk Ridge no longer did.
Dave cast his mind back over the last few months and tried to work out just when Christian’s temper had grown ragged even by his standards. It was the influx of new members that had started it, though Christian had adjusted to Jesse after a rough start. Things with Riley had been okay too, after a while. Which left Colby. Weeks had passed, and Christian still snarled at him whenever they passed one another.
His head was hurting again. Why was Christian so damn difficult? So stubborn, so quick to fight, so sure he had to carry everything alone? If he was easy to love, maybe it wouldn’t mean so damn much when it worked. But God, sometimes Dave wished it was easier.
The mint cracked between his teeth, the strong bite of peppermint welcome. At least it explained the sting in his eyes as he watched the light fade from the sky.
CHRISTIAN
Dusk was falling by the time Christian bumped up the increasingly familiar track in Stefan’s truck. None of the vehicles he’d passed on the road had been their rental, but he was still relieved to see the car here. There was no sign of Dave. That was okay—Christian knewhe’d either have headed for the ledge or the old camp, which meant he knew the path he’d take coming back.
Pulling in behind the car, he slid the keys under the visor, then stripped and put his clothes in a neat pile on the seat before shifting. His wolf stretched, eager to find his mate.
As Christian ran, every sense on alert for Dave, he was aware of other creatures in the dusk. But he couldn’t be distracted by anything, not when there was no sign of Dave heading back to the car before daylight was lost completely. He knew Dave hadn’t shifted—his clothes hadn’t been at the car—so why would he wait until it was so late before coming back?
When he passed the oddly shaped outcrop of rocks that marked three miles from their parking spot, vague anxiety turned to real worry. Dave knew better than to be blundering about dark wilderness in human form, especially this close to the edge of a cliff. The scent he was following was hours old, stale and too faint to ease his spiraling fear. Dusk was deepening, and still no sign of Dave.
He pushed himself, running as fast as he could, body stretching out in a ground-eating lope, and finally he was above the ledge. He started down the path, small stones skittering under his paws, and then froze, every hair on his neck standing up on end—Dave was here. But the same air that carried that beloved, familiar scent also held the smell of blood.
Christian flung himself along the rest of the path, paws scarcely making contact as he propelled himself down. And then finally, he found Dave. He was sitting propped against the face of the cliff, his eyes closed and his head lying awkwardly to one side.
Christian was on him, whining, snuffling, licking. God, why wouldn’t he wake up? Why wasn’t he swatting Christian away like he always did when woken like this? He was warm and his pulse was steady in his neck, but he wasn’t moving.
Terrified, he nudged hard at Dave’s still figure. Dave stirred, his brow furrowing. Encouraged, Christian did it again, shoving his snout into Dave’s face.
