Page 24 of Hunted

“We’ll figure it out,” Bennett says, briefly smiling at Helena as she approaches the car.

“Before or after this shifter decides to make another appearance and tries to claim my backyard as his?” I ask, opening my car door.

“That won’t happen. He’ll be dead before.”

“Who’ll be dead?” Helena asks, frowning as she comes to a stop beside the passenger door.

I get out of the car. “Bennett can explain. How’s Aerin?”

“Umm…” Her hazel eyes are evasive as she tucks a strand of honey-blond hair behind her ear.

Shit.

Not good, in other words.

I scrub a hand over my face. “Was she really upset?”

“Just worried,” Helena says. “Honestly, I’m dreading when I’m more pregnant. She said she felt helpless and I think I’m going to feel the same way, wanting to help, but knowing there are going to be times I have to sit out the fight.”

“Would flowers have helped?” We passed right by the grocery store and I should have thought to go in and pick up flowers or something for Aerin to apologize for being gone most of the day.

Helena gives me a reassuring smile. “Aerin doesn’t want flowers, Mack. She just wants to know you’re safe. That’s all.”

I return her smile and step aside so she can get into the seat I just vacated.

I wave them off before I walk up to the house, hoping I can find the right words to soothe Aerin.

When I don’t find Aerin downstairs, I head upstairs.

9

AERIN

I’m brushing my hair at the dressing table when Mack slips into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

It’s much too early to even be up in the bedroom. It’s 4 and because I couldn’t concentrate on anything downstairs as I waited for Mack to come home, I thought a nap would help me stop worrying.

All I did was lay in bed and worry even more.

Objectively, I know Mack did nothing wrong. Helena said he’d texted and said he was fine, safe, and just checking out a track they’d picked up at the hotel.

He wasn’t in danger, wasn’t lying bleeding, dead or dying in a ditch somewhere like I kept imagining he was. But I couldn’t help but feel so helpless. Like, if he really was hurt, what could I do? I can’t shift because of the baby. I can’t run, again, because of the baby, and every time I reach for my powers, it’s not there.

I can’t even manage stairs without holding the balustrade.

Deep down, I know Mack wants to protect me, but I want to cry all the time. He was gone for the better part of the day, and I’ve been here, knowing that even if he was in trouble, I couldn’t help him.

“You didn’t need to leave anyone here to watch me,” I say, keeping my eyes on the mess I’ve made. Toiletries are spread over the dressing table. I don’t wear makeup. Most shifters don’t, and only then, they prefer fragrance free or natural because our wolves would struggle to deal with the artificial scents beauty companies love adding to everything.

“Helena would have just been bored sitting at home alone,” he says, closing the door. “Better she come and stay with you. Have you eaten?”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“I could make us something,” he quietly offers. “Or we could call out for takeout?”

“No. Was there trouble?” I briefly meet his gaze in the dressing-table mirror.

He’s stepping out of his shoes, looks tired, brown hair more tousled than usual, like he’s run his hand through it multiple times today, but he’s fully focused on me. “No trouble. Just frustrated. Sorry I was gone so long.”

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