Page 63 of Hunted

“I’m okay now,” I tell Mack, wiping the rest of my tears away.

He doesn’t move from his position crouched in front of me.

I don’t know how long Bennett has been gone, but I wish I had stopped him from leading Clary out.

“Something is wrong with you. We have time to talk,” Mack says.

“I’m fine. I’ve stopped bleeding now. See?”

He glances at my nose but doesn’t move. “But you had a nosebleed. That’s a sign that something is wrong.”

“I was just trying too hard. That’s all. I’m fine now.”

“Aerin…”

I get to my feet. “I know most of the bigger packs in the country, but I don’t know all of them. My dad will have mostof the Alpha’s numbers, so I think we should call and speak to them, find out if they know something.”

I step around him, but he grips my wrist and tugs me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. This is equally important, Aerin.”

I lean into his embrace for a little longer. “Finding missing omegas is more important than me having a tantrum about my powers.”

When I step back, he cradles the nape of my neck, holding me there. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? And it is no tantrum.”

“We’ll talk later,” I agree, but I hope we won’t. I gave myself a nosebleed trying to kick-start my powers into working, and all I have to show for it is a bloody washcloth. Whatever is wrong with me isn’t something I can fix on my own.

That doesn’t matter now. Our priorities have shifted in a massive way.

“Come on.” I lead the way into the kitchen and the dining table, which has become the hub of our most serious conversations lately. “Do you have a map and a notebook?”

“Sure.”

He helps me into the dining chair and as I call my dad, he briefly disappears, returning with a map and a notebook. The notebook is not the same one he was using before to list the requirements for the new home he’s planning for us and which he still hasn’t told me about.

“This had better be important,” Dad says the second the phone clicks.

“Omegas are being stolen from packs across the country. Is that important enough?”

“Moses, cancel my next meeting,” Dad calls out.

A door snicks closed as Mack opens the notebook and nudges it—and a pen—toward me.

“Which packs?” Dad asks.

I glance at Mack. “That’s the problem. We’re not sure. A shifter was just here…”

I give my dad a brief rundown of everything Clary said and watch as Mack sticks a pin in New Mexico and Virginia. We know these are places where people have attempted to grab omegas. Unsuccessfully in one case, and successfully in the other.

“And you let him go without more information?” Dad says mildly.

I hear the disapproval in his voice.

“Yes, I let the shifter who was watching my mate and then caused her to hurt herself go,” Mack responds, just as mildly.

Tension crackles between them, and I wait to see how this will play out.

My dad has never managed to intimidate Mack, and he has tried more than once. Dad knows that no amount of posturing will change that.

Mack’s priorities have always been to look after the pack and me.

---