Page 16 of Entering a New World

I lifted up the seat to get to the hidden compartment beneath and grabbed one of the ropes we stashed in there. Usually, we used it for deer or to mark trees. I’d never used it to tie someone up. I’d definitely never imagined using it to tie my mate to me.

But nothing about meeting my mate and telling him about shifters had gone the way I’d expected, so adding this was just another point on the long list of my screw ups.

I don’t think me holding a rope even registered with my mate. Upon closing the compartment box, I found him clinging to the handle of the ATV, swaying on his feet, his face scrunched up in concentration—probably to stay upright.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said. I didn’t want to spook him, so I walked around him and made sure he could actually see me before reaching for him.

I helped him onto the ATV, climbed up in front of him, wrapped his arms around me and told him to hold on to me. Then I started wrapping the rope around his shoulders crossing it behind his back like one would do with a baby sling—at least that was what I was aiming for—and twisted and turned until I was sure I had my mate securely tied to me in a way that wouldn’t strangle him or let him fall off if he lost consciousness.

Then, I started the ATV, thanking the goddess and Grayson when it rumbled to life, the headlights illuminating the thick branch laying across what was supposed to be our path.

Go, my wolf urged.

Carefully, I manoeuvred us around the branch, going slowly at first. The ground was a soggy, muddy mess, making it hard for the wheels to get traction, and harder to spot the firm roots of the trees—even with my shifter vision and the headlights illuminating our way.

Levi’s ragged, warm breaths hit my neck, constantly reminding me of what was at stake; my mate’s health. His life. Failure was not an option. I needed to get us out of here right now—but I also needed to be careful. Humans were painfully fragile. Having an accident now could be fatal for him.

Fortunately, the nearest road was only a couple of miles away. It was a little detour, but I figured it’d be worth it. Driving on asphalt would definitely allow me to go faster than driving through the mud, manoeuvring around fallen trees and branches, evading raised roots and huge puddles.

Upon reaching the road, I felt my mate go slack against me. My heart lurched, my wolf howled pitifully, and I wasn’t ashamed to feel tears burning in my eyes.

Turning right, I sped up as much as I dared, hoping to hell the road wouldn’t be blocked by too many trees.

I needed to get my mate to safety. To get him warm. To make sure he was okay. And then I’d never let him out of my sight again—not even for a second.

My wolf whined in agreement. He wanted our mate in our bed, tucked beneath my thick down comforter, with him curled up next to our mate, giving him a little extra warmth.

We can’t go home, I told him, regret filling my chest. My heart was hammering, fear for my mate pulsing through my veins. The only thing that kept my panic at bay was his breath against my neck.

Why? My wolf pawed at my chest.

Too far away.

Unfortunately, that was the truth.

While I would love nothing more than to tuck my mate into my bed, keep him safe in my cabin, it wasn’t the sensible thing to do.

No, the only sensible thing to do was to get him to warmth as soon as possible and seeing that our packhouse was closest to my current location, that was where we were going. Also, my mate needed a doctor. Desperately.

The pack had a doctor. And knowing Jasper, he was probably staying in the packhouse for the night. If he wasn’t, he’d be in his apartment over his clinic in town, which was also closer than my cabin in the woods.

Why had I felt the need to buy a cabin so far away from everyone?

By the time I finally turned the ATV into the long driveway to our packhouse, I’d lost every sense of time. I couldn’t hear anything above the blood rushing in my ears, the heavy pour of rain and the howling winds.

My mate was frighteningly cold against me, his breath the only source of warmth.

He couldn’t die.

He couldn’t die on me now.

He just couldn’t.

The packhouse came into view, a huge wooden lodge that not only held our communal spaces but housed quite a few of the younger or newer pack members as well.

Relief flooded me upon seeing the windows on the first floor lit up, shadows moving behind the drawn curtains.

“We’re here,” I told my mate, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. “You’re safe.”

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