Page 22 of Manifesting a Mate

I have to work to keep my face neutral and not give away how clueless I am when Chris fishes his phone out of his jeans pocket and proceeds to shove it in Jack's face.

“Cool right?” He asks with a wide, beaming smile. That fucking asshole wasn’t lying. Now I feel like a shitty friend. It's been all me, me, me today. I hadn’t even had a chance to ask Chris why he came over to see me after classes ended. He had started in on how shitty I looked the second I opened the door.

“Very cool man, congratulations. So, have you met Everett's elusive mate yet?” Jack goes for nonchalant with that question, but it was just such a jarring detour in the conversation that it stops Chris in his tracks.

“Who? Henry? Umm, I haven’t met him in person, but I’ve chatted with him a few times, why?” Great question Chris. Maybe Jack will answer him honestly.

Far too many times over the last few weeks Jack has made off-handed comments about how unbelievable it is that I found my mate. How he's going to need to see some proof to believe manifesting actually works.

His off-the-cuff comments and strange questions have created a kind of tension between us that makes me glad I'm maybe a week away from being able to move out. If he hadn’t been acting so weird about the whole thing, I probably would have given him more of a heads up, but seeing as he is almost acting like he believes I'm making a whole mate thing up, I don't feel like I owe him any courtesy.

“Hmm interesting.” He mutters under his breath, but I catch it. Then, louder and with obviously forced enthusiasm, adds “Mind if I join you guys? I’ve had a hell of a week and could use some cheering up.” He crosses the room past Chris and me to drop onto his mattress, one hand stuffed into his backpack like he's searching for something.

Alarms bells blare in my mind. Jack has been acting out of character recently, ever since he found out about Henry and I. Now he wants to chill and have a drink with us? Something is absolutely off about this whole thing. I have bad vibes, and Syril agrees, hissing at our roommate in my mind, while urging me to shift and run away. To reach out to Henry.

Chris not realising how out of sorts this behavior is for Jack is more than happy to grab another can of soda before tipping out half the contents and replacing it with tequila. I try to catch his eye as he steps closer, standing between my bed and Jack’s holding out a drink for him.

What happens next plays out in slow motion. Even with Syril baring his tiny teeth at Jack and the feeling of wrongness gripping my core, I don’t see it coming. Moving faster than I’ve ever seen from him. Jack pulls his hand out of his backpack, a fine white substance falling between the gaps in his tightly clenched fingers. I have no time to warn Chris or even to shield my own face before he raises his hand and blows the dust first into Chris’s face, then without hesitating, turns to me and repeats the motion.

I gasp on reflex, inhaling the chalk like powder. What the fuck was that? It tastes of chemicals and magic. My eyes widen as I watch Chris's limp body hitting the floor.

He’s drugged us.

Fuck, who have I been sharing a room with? I feel the color draining from my face as realization sets in. He’s trying to fucking kill us.

“What have you done?” I ask, my voice sounding slurred and distant to my own ears.

Jack's answering smile is nothing short of terrifying. Which is the last thing I see before darkness closes in around me and everything goes quiet.

CHAPTER 18

“A seven nation army couldn’t hold me back.”

Henry

My heartbeat is so loud in my head it’s competing with the roar of my bear as he charges hard against my barriers in my mind, trying to break through. His teeth are bared and he's snarling viciously in anger. His urgency is palpable and sends a rush of fear though me. I barely register running down the stairs, my shoes kicking up gravel as I bound across the car park toward my truck.

I still have no idea what is happening, I just know I need to get to Everett. Austin snatches the truck keys from my hand, pushing me toward the passenger side. I want to argue, tell him to fuck off and get out of my way, but a blind person could see I was far too distracted to be behind the wheel.

“Shut up and get in the damn truck, Hen. Where is he?” He asks, starting the truck and pulling out of the space before I’ve even closed the door. He doesn’t question me, doesn’t try to get me to slow down and think this through. This is why Austin is my best friend. He’s ready to run into the fire, no questions asked, because he knows I need him and that I would do the same for him in return.

I have no idea where Everett is, the last time I spoke to him he had just finished with his classes for the day and was headed back to his room to study and do laundry “Head to the college dorms.” I tell him, my knuckles turning white as I grip the oh shit bar still trying to stop my bear from exploding out of me to chase down our mate.

I just hope he hasn't changed his mind and instead decided to go out with friends or to the grocery store. More than that, I pray this whole thing has been some kind of misunderstanding, my bear overreacting for nothing. I want nothing more than to find my beautiful, curly-haired mate laying on his bed, lost in a book, oblivious to the anxiety threatening to rip me apart.

I keep tugging on the mate bond, calling for Everett the whole drive over, and the longer the silence continues, the more fear grips me. The campus is pretty open-plan, with only a few trees scattered along the path from the main building to the dormitories. Surely, if Everett was hurt here, somebody would have seen something and called the cops or even fucking campus security.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I throw the truck door open before Austin has even come to a full stop. Nothing looks out of place. No crowds of students gathered gossiping, no cop cars or emergency services. I try to take that as a good sign. Students are just milling around without a care in the world, while my chest is starting to constrict, the feeling of dread won’t leave me, and my bear is getting more impatient and angry as we search to no avail.

Being a college campus courtyard there have been hundreds of students passing through here. Professors and pedestrians alike. Everett has been here. His scent is faint, far too diluted with the others to be helpful.

Stepping up to the closed doors of his building, the scent intensifies. Yes, he has been here recently. I wish I could shift into my fur, let him barrel through this door and use his enhanced sense of smell to find our mate. If I did that, it would save a hell of a lot of time trying to convince somebody to buzz us in. We probably look like crazed kidnappers looking for an omega to abduct. Shifting in public will only bring its own set of problems.

So I do what always seems to work in the movies. I press every damn button on the intercom and hold my breath. The lock on the doors clicks loudly, as an answering buzz tells me that it actually worked.

I’ve not been to Everett's dorm room yet, which feels like a not only a missed opportunity to know more about him, but also a massive fucking mistake now that I’m trying to locate him. Gods, I’m a terrible alpha. How can I not know where my omega lives?

I’m not even sure which fucking floor his room is on. My nose is the only thing I’ve got to lead me to Everett, and I’m terrified it's not enough.