Page 29 of Shadow Bound

“You were there; you dug us out.” I don’t know what’s going on in the shifter’s mind, but if I had to guess, memories of what happened on the mountain are starting to come through his damaged head. “Yousavedus. Thank you.” He isn’t looking at me like I’m the monster I am. He’s looking at me like I’m some kind of savior.

My head quickly shakes. “I saved you and then I almost killed you. If Ransom hadn’t stopped me, I would have sunk my teeth into your carotid artery and drank whatever blood wasleftin your body. And then I would have done the same to Ransom.” I want that look on his face to go away. “So, don’t thank me.”

“But you didn’t,” he points out.

I slowly release his arm, when I’m sure he isn’t going to touch the damage on his other limb. “It wasn’t for lack of trying and I can’t promise I won’t try again.” It’s best he—they both—know this.

“You’re like a rogue,” Sawyer observes me. “When they turn, there is no controlling the hunger they have to find a mate. The need to find a female is so strong, they’re blinded by it. It’s like that for you too, but with blood, right?”

I hadn’t thought of it like that. My brows furrow as I contemplate it. “Yes, it’s like that. The only difference is a rogue will kill a few innocent people. If I succumb to the bloodlust—let it completely take over—it won’t just be a handful of people who die. It’ll be a massacre and almost impossible to stop me.”

Finally, the look vanishes from his features. Replaced with a determined one instead. “Let’s just hope it never happens and if it does, someone will be there to stop you.”

No one will be there because I’m destined to be alone the rest of my life. I have no family or pack to go back to. No one is looking out for me or worried about my well-being. The only people that were ever constant fixtures in my life are hunting me down just like I’m hunting them. Not what I’d call one big happy family. But he doesn’t need to know that, instead I just nod. “Hopefully.”

* * *

The motelin the small mountain town is dated but at least it seems somewhat clean. I myself wouldn’t have rented a room out for the week. Of course, they don’t know that I’m staying here too. It’s not information I’ve offered up yet. Shifters have strong immune systems, but we still didn’t need Sawyer lying on a bed comforter with hundreds of different DNA samples on it when he has an open wound. I’d helped Ransom carry him into the motel room, with Sawyer mostly conscious and the bleeding almost under control, it was a little easier than before.

It took us over an hour to get back into town, Sawyer faded in and out the whole drive. The blood loss making him weak. Ransom’s eyes constantly drifted in my direction, but opting to ignore him, I kept my head turned, looking out the passenger window.

Now, I stand uncomfortably at the end of the bed watching Ransom awkwardly try to wrap Sawyer’s fucked-up arm in sterile gauze. Ransom had received a text from his sister saying they were on their way. Which means I have a couple of hours to make my escape.

Fuck. I’m exhausted. I don’t usually need much sleep, but blood starvation has required more hours of sleep than I’m used to. I used to go a week without an ounce of shut-eye when I had access to blood regularly. The energy exerted on the mountain had drained me of whatever strength I’d gotten from the small bag of blood in Nebraska.

I’m officially on empty and the weakest I’ve ever been. My vision is starting to get fuzzy and there’s a low humming in my ears. I lock my knees to keep myself standing, not wanting to sit down. Ransom and I aren’t what I’d call trusting of each other. My guard still needs to be up at all times.

Nessa is still out there lurking too. If she gets a whiff of my weakened state, she’ll use it to her advantage.

“Beau!” Ransom’s voice floats through my clouded mind.

Jerking my chin up, I look at him. “What?”

“I said your name three times, you didn’t hear me.” Ransom’s ocean blue eyes narrow ever so slightly. “You good?”

“Fine.” The lie slips from my lips quickly.

“You had this faraway look on your face. Just wanted to make sure you’re still with me.” His lips tip into an easy smile, no judgment in his eyes.

Frustration bubbles in my throat that he’s not understanding what a danger I am to him right now. I’m stuck in a small room with him with the overwhelming smell of blood in the air. I can snap at any second, he knew this when he asked me to stay when we got back to the motel, stating he might need more help with Sawyer. For whatever stupid reason, I agreed to stick around.

I’m finding, much to my displeasure, that my usual steadfast reasoning is cracking whenever Ransom is involved. I’m agreeing to things I never would have before him.

“I’m here.” My fingers play with a loose string at the hem of Ransom’s shirt I’m wearing. Sawyer’s blood can’t even drown out the smell of Ransom. The musky scent of his cologne and just his natural scent. Clean with hints of pine. It’s intoxicating.

Ransom moves the T-shirt we’d tragically tied around Sawyer’s head for our climb down the mountain. A scab or clot must have formed, attaching to the cotton, because when Ransom pulls it away, the ugly gash on Sawyer’s head reopens. Fresh blood runs down his forehead all the way to his jaw where it drips onto his chest.

“Shit!” Ransom presses his hands to the cut, trying to stop it. His worried eyes cut to me where I stand like a statue.

I take in as much air as I can, holding my breath. Without being asked, I rush into the bathroom and grab one of the clean bath towels from the hook. Ransom passes me a thankful look when he takes it from me. His fingers barely brush mine; the zapping sensation makes me yank my hand away quickly.

Hunger pangs hit my gut again, forcing the breath I’m holding to escape between my lips with a pained hiss. My slow heart rate speeds up again, pounding violently in my chest. I even feel beads of sweat start to form at my temple.

“Beau?”

My eyes yank away from the blood, meeting calm ocean ones. “I can’t be in here, Ransom.” My boot-covered feet move me across the room. Just as I’m about to swing open the motel room door, he stops me.

“Don’t run. I just need to dress this wound and it’ll be fine. It’s going to be okay.” His friend is bleeding and broken in front of him, but he’s reassuringmethat it’s going to be okay.

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