Page 11 of Mate Forsaken

Miles made sure he was far enough away from Circe before he let the wolf reclaim his fur, running hell-bent for leather in hopes of outrunning his despair. His anger. There was no one to blame but himself.

Racing through the darkened forest, he let the moon guide his frantic dash. Trying to outrun his pain and despair. Confronted with just how bad he fucked up, he faced the knowledge that she wasn’t going to forgive him.

An alpha howl rolled across the land, stopping him in his tracks. His presence had been discovered. The last thing he wanted was to be at odds with Circe’s alpha. Turning, he ran in the opposite direction. Down through the valley and then up the side of a steep hill until he reached a plateau. An open field stretched out, and once more he came to a halt. The moonlight made him too vulnerable, so he pivoted and headed toward the ridgeline that separated the plains from the next hill.

Intent to avoid detection, he missed how the landscape changed until too late. A nearly imperceptible trap tripped him and he went sprawling. When he scrambled back onto his paws, another wolf careened into him. He skidded, unable to find traction, and slid down an embankment. Then the earth gave way under him and he tumbled into a deep pit he didn’t know was there.

The wind was knocked out of him as he landed and it took a moment until he was able to stand. He glanced up and the wolf who had blindsided him was staring down at him. Miles snarled until a man stepped up next to the beast and glared at him.

“You’re on my turf,” the man said. “Shift.”

It was an alpha command, but being an alpha himself, the power had no sway. This had to be Jericho Savidge. The darkness of the pit kept him in shadow, but since there was noway he could communicate, Miles returned to skin.

“I’m not here for you,” he called up.

“You aren’t here for anyone. Are you challenging me?”

“No, I’m here for my mate.”

“And who might that be?”

“Circe Tolliver.”

Jericho didn’t respond for a moment. “She said she no longer had a mate.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, uncomplicate it.”

Miles held out his arms. “I’d rather be dressed to have this conversation.”

“Get dressed and meet me at the pack lodge. I’m sure you can sniff your way.”

He turned to leave.

“Hey!” Miles shouted. Jericho looked back down at him. “Could I get help out of here?”

“No,” Jericho replied. “Figure it out.”

Then he was gone. Miles dropped his arms to his side.

“Shit,” he muttered.

****

It took him a few extra-long minutes until he was able to claw his way to the top. Miles hurried to where he had stashed his clothes, making sure to catch Jericho’s scent to know where to go. He took his time getting to the lodge because he wanted Jericho to be as inconvenienced as possible. The dick.

When he finally arrived at the lodge, it looked like something that belonged in the Middle Ages with its woodwork and stone turrets. Steps led up to the double front doors and he cautiously twisted the handle of one. Low lighting and the scent of apples greeted him. He stepped inside and shut the door softly behind him, before following his nose to where Jericho waitedfor him.

The Sheridan Pack alpha stood with his arms folded across his chest, tattoos decorating both arms. Next to him stood his beta, wariness and suspicion heavy in their gazes. Even though Miles knew he was a powerful man, he now faced two equally strong men, and if there was a fight he wasn’t sure he’d win.

“You know who I am. This is my beta, Ledger.” Jericho narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

Miles raised his arms, his hands spread to show he wasn’t going to attack. “Miles Kenneally. Alpha to the Shadowhide Pack.”

Recognition dawned in Jericho’s eyes. “I see.”

“See?” the beta asked.

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