Page 23 of Manifesting a Mate

Following his scent, I race up the stairs, stopping on each level to inhale deeply. The smell of honey bread hits me in the face so thick I almost choke on it. This has to be it. My eyes dart up to check which floor I was on. Third. Okay, at least if we have to jump from the window, it’s not that far down. Stepping out of the stairwell, I let go of the heavy metal door only for it to push open again. I spin around, fangs already bared, only to see Austin panting to catch his breath. He must have parked and flown up the stairs behind me. I didn’t even hear him, too distracted by anxiety and the fear that I’m going to be too late.

“What are you waiting for? Let's find Hellcat.” Slapping a hand down on my shoulder, he gives it a quick squeeze of reassurance, then steps back to let me work out which direction we need to go. While the whole interaction probably lasted a minute, maybe two, I feel like I’ve wasted precious time. Panic is clawing at my vision now. I need to get a grip on myself, my omega needs me.

I no longer think my bear is exaggerating or overreacting. The closer I get to Everett, the stronger the bond should be. I should be able to feel him like a physical presence in my mind being this close. The absence of him is crippling.

With a burst of renewed determination, I follow the strongest trail of Everett's scent into a hallway with maybe eight doors lining either side. I hesitate for a second to try tod come up with a better idea than just knocking down every door to find my mate. I’m pretty certain we are breaking some kind of law being in this building, adding more charges on top for intimidating and property damage doesn’t seem like a great plan.

Thankfully, Austin is still firing on all cylinders. Picking up on my inability to think straight, he reaches out and casually pulls the fire alarm before working his way up the hallway banging on each door loudly.

“Fire, everybody out,” he yells at the top of his lungs.

One by one students start to pour out, some half dressed with little concern for the building apparently being on fire. Others are in full panic mode, carrying arms full of books and one omega is stuffing a cat up his jumper.

“Everett Barkley? Which room is he in?” I ask each student as they pass, getting more and more frustrated that nobody seems to know my mate and I haven’t a clue who his roommate is. I vow at this moment, when I get Everett back to my cabin, I’m not letting him leave until I know every single piece of information about his past and present life. Shit, did we have the wrong floor?

I’m starting to think we have the wrong fucking floor when a voice breaks through my consternation “Everett? Little ginger dude? Last door on the left, man” a young guy tells me, nodding toward the far end of the hallway. I can barely see his face past this mop of black hair falling in all directions.

I take off, calling my mate, “EVERETT, SWEETHEART ARE YOU HERE?” my voice so close to my bear’s that I'm sure it’s coming out more of a strangled roar than discernible words. “EV BABY!” I try again, heart racing and vision starting to blur as terror claws at me.

Straining my ears I try to listen for him, there are too many other heart beats for me to distinguish which is his, our bond is still silent and if he can hear me he’s not calling back. I can't pick up on anything other than his scent concentrated in this hallway.

Reaching his door, at least I hope it's his door, I take one step back then charge shoulder first. This is the only room that hasn’t reacted to the fire alarm screeching loudly. Which can only mean one of two things. Either Everett isn't here, and the room is empty, or something happened to my mate and he isn’t able to respond.

The wooden door crashes open, splinters of the frame falling around my feet as I step into the room. Three omegas inside all turned to face me with wide eyes.

Christopher, Everett's best friend, I recognise from the pictures Ev showed me from their night at the bar during the singles event, a fox shifter, and my mate.

Christopher and Everett are sitting on one bed. Positioned next to each other, backs to the wall with their hands bound together behind their bodies. The fox shifter is sitting on the bed opposite them. Unbound and posture rigid. I can smell magic in the air.

Unable to hold him back any longer, my bear rips out of me, forcing the prick to fall to the floor, Barney landing hard with his front paws on either side of the fox fucker’s head. Snarling and snapping my jaws at him, in a warning not to move, I lean across the significantly smaller space to my mate, nuzzling his cheek, licking at his skin. I’m not sure if it’s whatever fucking magic was used on him, but Everett’s scent has changed. It's subtle, but noticeably sweeter nonetheless.

“Are you okay my love?” I ask through our connection, expecting a response now that I see with my own eyes he's alive, awake, and looking right fucking at me. Except there is nothing, not through the bond or in person. A lone tear falls from his eye, slipping down his face, making my bear huff in frustration and lap at the salty wetness. It’s like his body is frozen and he’s trapped inside.

A scuffling noise behind me has my head whipping around, stupid fucking fox shifter is trying to make a run for it. Does he really think he's going to get around my bear and escape? Apparently he does. The whimper he releases when Austin steps into the room tells me he is rethinking that plan. Austin's large body blocking the doorway, a vicious growl showing all of his teeth aimed at the little bastard. It’s overkill, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy the way the fucker scarpers back on all fours like a crab to press himself into the corner.

Realising that while the danger may not be fully past, especially with magic involved, I think Everett needs more assistance than my bear can offer him right now. Trusting Austin to keep the fox shifter where he is while he calls the cops, I shift back to my human skin, uncaring that I’m naked. The only thing that matters is figuring out what the fuck he did to my mate.

Pressing two fingers to the side of Everett's neck, I check his pulse. It’s strong, if anything, it's too fast, like he's somehow hyperventilating on the inside but calm on the surface. It's reminiscent of that horror movie, House of Wax. When Chistopher’s pulse is equally as fast, eyes darting to the corner of the room where the fox is and back to me frantically, I know this has to be down to magic and that shifter is to blame.

Whirling on the idiot who dared to attack my mate, I grip his shirt by the collar, dragging him to his feet and then off them, letting his legs flail suspended in the air.

“What did you do to my mate?”

CHAPTER 19

“I’m holding on for a hero.”

Everett

My head hurts. Why does my head hurt so bad? Blinking my eyes open, I wince at how dry my eyelids are. If I didn’t know better, I would think this was the hangover to end all hangovers. I didn’t drink though, at least I don't think I did. Slowly blinking my eyes, I focus on my surroundings. I’m in my dorm room, Jack is there, pacing the floor between our beds. Like he could sense I was awake, his head snaps around to look at me. Except there is something different, something off about him. Then it hits me.

The memories come rushing back. Chris shows up and demands I get a pregnancy test, it came back positive. Chris insisted that we celebrate with take out food and soda laced with the tequila that has lived in my fridge for almost a year. That's when Jack came home and lost it.

“What the fuck did you do to us?” I ask except nothing comes out. I try again, feeling panic rise as I attempt to move my arms and turn my head to find Chris. I know he’s next to me. I can feel the weight of his body pressing against my side. He’s not moving either. I check on Syril next, poking around in my mind, it’s quiet, too quiet. I don’t think my animal is gone completely, I'm sure I would be aware if he’d been taken from me somehow. Maybe he’s just as frozen as I am.

The scariest part is that I can no longer feel my mate. My Henline is still there, except it's dark. Like somebody pulled the plug on the energy that feeds it. Fuck, my baby. Whatever magic he did on me has essentially paralyzed my body. Does that mean my baby is paralyzed? I don’t need to see my face to know that all color has drained from it.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was starting to worry I did the spell wrong.”