Page 7 of Promise & Artem

“Maybe getting out of Mom and Dad’s house for a bit would be good for you. Like a vacation. And the trailer park has great bonfire parties on Saturday nights.”

Promise twisted the keyring until the loop holding her house key popped off. Handing it over, she said, “I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Keep me posted on everything. Lots of pics.”

“You bet.”

“Drive safe.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Promise got behind the wheel, plugged her phone in, and selected the playlist she’d compiled for the drive. As the familiar strains of one of her favorite eighties songs came over the speakers, she waved at her sister and pulled away, putting the trailer in the rearview.

Soon enough, Allen would be behind her, and Little Hope would be her future.

She wasn’t sure why she was so certain this was the way to go, but ever since Jessi had suggested it, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that her life was going to change dramatically in Pennsylvania.

She was looking for a fresh start and her truemate, a place to call home and a place where she could be a healer and useful to her new people.

Maybe they’d be wolves, or another type of shifter group. She didn’t care what her future truemate shifted into or if he shifted at all. She only cared that she finally found him.

I’m coming for you, future-sexy-mate.

Signaling to the right, she hit the main road and accelerated, lowering the windows and turning up the volume. She couldn’t wait to get to the campground.

Artem stifled a yawn as he waited outside his sister’s cabin to take her to town. She shared a two-bedroom cabin with Charlotte, the daughter of a hyena clan who lived and worked at the campground. Charlotte’s three brothers had a cabin next to Artem’s, who lived alone.

He didn’t care to have a roommate, because then someone would be paying attention to his comings and goings, and he’d have to explain why he left at night and didn’t come back until late.

Hence the yawning.

If he could swing it, he liked sleeping in until lunch, but he hadn’t been sleeping well in the last year or so, as his anxiety over not finding his truemate and his aggression slowly got worse. And, honestly, he hadn’t slept at all last night. Guilt had kept him up and pacing, as he thought about the wolf he’d killed. When he’d come to after being choked into unconsciousness, the wolf’s body had already been disposed of and Nero had wanted to see him. All the fighting ring owner had to say to Artem,though, was how pissed he was that he’d killed a fighter when the male had been popular with the crowd.

“Aren’t you angry that he’s dead?” Artem had asked in disbelief.

“Eh.” Nero had simply shrugged. “Everyone knows that shifters fighting is dangerous business, that’s why it’s illegal. He knew what he was getting into, and to be honest he asked to fight you. He thought he could take you out.”

“Kill me?”

Another shrug. “He wanted to get top billing and he didn’t want to work his way through the ranks and train, he just wanted to fight you. He knew what it meant when he stepped into the ring with you.”

“Did he?” Artem asked, hardly able to keep the accusation from his tone.

“Of course.” Nero had handed him his winnings, minus the cost of disposing of Varro’s body, and told him to take off.

That was not the first time that Artem realized how callous Nero was about the loss of life and his fighters, but it was the first time that he’d been a part of it. Knowing that Varro had planned to kill him was chilling in an entirely different way. The fights weren’t supposed to be to the death, but it happened. Business as usual, Nero would say when it happened.

Artem pushed away the thoughts of the previous night and focused on the task at hand, chauffeuring his sister to town. He doubted he’d ever forget that awful feeling of waking up and knowing he’d taken a life, but he couldn’t wallow in his guilt or he’d go insane.

Isolde opened the door of the cabin with a travel mug in hand. She stopped on the porch to put on sunglasses and then walked to his truck. As she sat in the passenger seat, the ice in her mug clinked. “Morning.”

“Hey,” he said, pulling away from the cabin.

“You look like crap.”

“Thanks, that’s helpful.”

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