Page 119 of Forget

Aisling is standing in front of me, wearing one of Caelin’s sweatshirts, wide eyed.

“What…” Aisling pants, her eyes welling with tears of anger and anguish as she holds tightly to my knife. “This is a joke, right?”

Smelling something burning, I shove the pan off the burner and turn it off without breaking eye contact as I shake my head.

“Afraid not, Aisling. You’re mine. You’ve been mine since I chased you down on that street in Minneapolis,” I whisper, watching her closely.

I’m unprepared, despite Cian’s warning for her to throw my blade at me and actually hit her mark. Hissing, I take a step toward her, and Aisling turns and runs.

Oh fuck no. The darkness I keep hidden so well rises, and I allow it to take over as I give chase.

You can run, little mouse, but I’ll find you. Maybe I’ll chain you to the bed so I can tell you my side. Either way, I’m coming.

Chapter 22

Aisling

It’s been Hayes this entire time.I don’t know how or why, but I feel betrayed all the same. I was in such a good mood when I woke up, and I came downstairs with the afterglow of bites and really incredible sex in search of food. Domh, Evan, and Caelin were still asleep.

It sounds selfish because I believe in the search for truth, but maybe I should have allowed myself to stay in my bubble of happiness. I haven’t been allowed many truly happy moments in life.

Yes, I’m having a pity party.

“Aisling!” Hayes roars, but all that does is make me run faster.

I’m barefoot and wearing one of Caelin’s sweatshirts that I found. I also saw my knife just outside of my nest, and brought it as part of my security blanket. Too bad I’ve probably lost it in Hayes’ shoulder.

“No!” I scream, panting as I attack the first door that I see, leading outside. Unlocking it, I shove it open and run straight for the snow-covered ground, intent on getting away.

Did Dad know about this?I know he works with them all, but how much did he know? Did he know he’s my scent match and all of the other bullshit? I don’t feel as safe as I did when they told me that Cian Sullivan gave his blessing in a way. At least, that’s how this silly little omega took it.

I’m completely spiraling, and I feel lightheaded.

My feet fly over the ground, the sting of cold on my legs and feet making me hiss. I can hear the alpha’s heavy running steps behind me, but all I want to do is leave. Everything else falls away as I focus on getting away.

I’ll remove myself from my life, my friends, everything to find distance from the trauma and disappointment behind me.

I thought I had actually found scent matches that cared about me. As fucked up as it was, I enjoyed the things that happened during my heat. Even when they spit in my mouth, gagged me, and told me to swallow, I did it despite the sting of humiliation. Why would they lie to me about it all?

“Why are you so fucking stubborn? It’s freezing out here and I just want to explain,” Hayes yells.

“You lied, you can go fuck a duck,” I scream as I jump into a deep pile of snow and try to wade through.

I hear growling as my feet start to freeze and I squeal when I drop a little more before being able to get out and continue to run. There’s trees in the back of the property, and I head in that direction.

“Aisling, stop,” he says, using his alpha bark. I fight through it, but the time it takes me, costs me my freedom.

Hayes sweeps me off my feet as I scream and fight, but he grabs my ankles in one hand and my wrists in the other, as he lifts me, to wear my body like a scarf. No matter how I writheand fight, there’s nowhere to go as he turns and jogs back to the house, grumbling.

“You don’t understand,” Hayes complains. “I’ve known I was your scent match since I met you, while you showed no sign of it.”

“I wear an alpha scent blocker gel,” I screech. “How about some self awareness? Not everything is about you, Hayes. I didn’t ignore you on purpose, asshole.”

“Language,” he mutters. “All I wanted was for you to see me, and then I took things too far. Now my pack is obsessed with you. You’re stuck with us now.”

“If you keep me, I’ll slit your throat in your sleep and escape,” I snarl.

“If it was that easy to get rid of me, your father would have put a bullet in my brain and been done,” he says with a dark chuckle. “We’re scent matches, baby. You’ll always feel a pull toward me.”

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