Page 93 of Pit Stop

“You have it inside of you. More than others. I can smell it on you. Not a wolf, but part of one. You’re welcome here anytime.”

Maverick shakes his head and then moves toward the cave’s entrance.

“There’s also one of your pack farther down the path.”

My heart rate picks up. “Is he safe?”

“Oh, he’s perfectly fine. Having a great time, by the sounds of it.”

I don’t even want to know. I just swallow roughly and let Maverick lead me out of the cave. This whole place is…it’s not where I want to be. I want to be back home with Maverick, cuddled in his bed, his warm body behind me.

But that’s not sustainable. For him or me.

“Should we find my brother?”

“No. I don’t—” Maverick sighs. “I don’t want to know. If that’s what he likes, I want him to tell me. I don’t want to force him to out himself.”

I nod as we continue walking back toward the lake.

“What do you think he meant by you have more wolf inside of you? Does that mean you’re a shifter?”

“No, it means my dad might have had some of that in him. I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t care to know. I just want…” he clears his throat. “I just want to go back to the way things were.”

For a moment, I wonder if he means that he wants to go back to the way things were with us, before we made our way here, or if he wants things to go back to when everything was simpler. When I was just the little brother of his best friend and not his mate.

I guess it doesn’t matter. Because tomorrow is happening and it’s going to hurt.

We both know it, and yet we’re doing it anyway.

We spend the rest of the day on the porch of the house, snuggled together, Maverick constantly scenting me as he tries to mark me. It fades faster than normal. Nothing sticks.

I hate it. I dread what this means.

At night, we make love, slow and drawn-out. He makes sure I feel it, the drag of his cock, the way his lips trace across my skin. He’s making sure I’ll remember, but doesn’t he know? I will remember this. How could I forget?

When the morning approaches, I realize I haven’t slept. I just stayed awake, nuzzled into him, feeling our bond slipping farther and farther from us. By the time we wander down to eat breakfast, I can’t feel him at all. Even his touch is muted.

“Eat,” Bet says, but I shake my head. I’m sick. Not hungry.

She scolds me, but I ignore her, knowing that this is the beginning of the end and loathing it. Everyone else seems to feel it too.

Ten and Jex leave us alone, and Forest is oddly quiet. Sage and my dad are the only ones who talk while eating, but it’s superficial. Nothing of importance.

Forest only speaks as we walk toward Attie’s place, ready to break the bond for good.

“You sure about this?” he asks the two of us.

Maverick’s hand tightens on mine, and I slip from his grasp, unable to handle it—his touch, the reminder of what we’re going to sever.

“Yes,” I lie.

Maverick says nothing. But I hear his bones cracking slightly.

The wolf inside of him.

Maybe the man in the cave was right. Maybe he’s part-shifter.

When we approach the worn-down trailer, Attie is already outside, smoking a pipe, his shirt off, and a cowboy hat on his head.

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