Page 90 of His Wild Mate

Before I even realized what I was doing, I walked to the bedroom we were staying in and undressed. Still feeling a little uncomfortable thanks to his paranoia and request that I lock myself away in the safe room, I made sure to close and even lock the bedroom door.

Shaking my head, a laugh burst from me.

This was ridiculous. I was a strong wolf well adept in fighting. Surely I didn't need my mate fighting my battles for me. Plus, we were hours away from Collier and no one knew where we were going. There was no possible way for my stalker to find me here. But Emmett had planted that tiny seed of doubt.

I groaned in frustration and walked out to the deck. It only took me a moment to figure out how to remove the lid, though I only did it halfway before stepping in and sliding into the warm water.

I sighed with relief as my muscles immediately started to ease.

In the daylight, I could look out over the snow covered mountains. It was a breathtaking sight. I could easily see why Emmett loved it here so much.

Seemingly out of nowhere, tears ran down my cheeks. I wasn't even sure at first why I was crying. And then it hit me. This could have been my life if it wasn't for the curse.

How could I even trust that Emmett's feelings for me were real? What if it’s all just the curse?

Mine, my wolf argued.

I was certain he was my true mate, but how could I be sure that he wasn't feeling drawn to me so strongly because of the curse? I was a siren after all. I drew men in and then I killed them. His sister hadn't been wrong about that.

And if I truly loved him . . .

My whole body stiffened.

Love?

Did I love Emmett?

As soon as I had the thought, I knew it was true. And if I truly did love him, then I had to think of what was best for him above all else, even above my own needs and feelings. That's what a person does for the one they love, isn't it?

I knew in my heart that I was not the best thing for Emmett. He was so good and kind. Here I was upturning his whole life and for what? The sex was fantastic, but not at the expense of his life.

Everywhere I went, death seemed to follow. How could this be any different? It would all end in heartache.

I shook my head unable to accept any scenario that ended with his death.

It was my turn to protect my mate. And I knew exactly what I had to do.

Still, the emotions of the decision overwhelmed me as I sat in that hot tub and sobbed, crying until there wasn't a tear left to fall.

I had no idea how long I had sat there, but my fingers were stiff and pruned.

Feeling emotionally numb, I forced myself to get out and dry off.

I reaffirmed my plans to leave, but while it would be easiest to just walk away now before he even returned from the store, I couldn'tdo it. Not yet. Even knowing that the longer I stayed, the closer we'd get, and the more pain it would cause us both when I left.

He loved this cabin and only had good memories on this mountain. He deserved to keep it that way. I made a private vow to myself to stay until we headed back to Collier. And when the time came for me to safely escape, I would run and I would never look back.

Letting myself back into the bedroom, I sat down on the bed and then picked up his pillow and hugged it to me. We'd only slept there one night so his scent wasn't strong, but it was enough to sooth me and make me mourn the loss of him all at once.

When the front door opened, I dried my eyes and prepared to meet him. I knew he'd come find me, probably even before he brought the groceries in.

I smiled at the thought and then reprimanded myself for the joy it brought me.

Stay strong, Paige. You've been through worse. But had I really?

I already knew that leaving him was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever do in my life. I would regret it every single day, but I could live with it because I knew it would be what is best for him.

When I realized he hadn’t called out to me, I thought I'd just imagined it. I strained my ears wondering if maybe his paranoia had rubbed off on me. That's when I heard it, the faint shuffling of feet on the carpet followed by the unmistakable sound of whistling. The tune was very specific and repetitive. Maybe it was my overreacting imagination, but it made the hair on my arms standup.

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