Page 45 of Leave Me
“Go. Head off the wolves with Uncle Clark. I’ll take Riley further onto the land, try to confuse the trail.”
Ricky agreed and ended the call. I felt a tug in my chest at the idea of him facing off with the bears. He was a beta, but he was stronger than most knew. I had to trust he could take care of himself with Clark’s help.
“Get dressed,” I told Riley, kissing his temple before letting him go. “Leave your phone and don’t forget your shoes.”
“Leave my phone?” Riley questioned, covering his glorious body with a pair of sweats and a loose shirt.
“The twins might be too stupid to track us electronically, but I imagine they can hear the buzz from the electronics,” I explained. “But also, service is unlikely up the hill.”
My phone rang again, and I answered, putting it on speaker as I scrambled to put on my own sweats and shoes, not bothering with a shirt.
There was a pause on the line that had fear skittering down my spine. What if the bears snagged my little sister on her way back to the pack house after bringing us breakfast? I’d never forgive myself if she’d been hurt while I was busy getting off with Riley.
“Sis?” I called out, frantic to hear her voice. “Did you get back to the house safely?”
“Oh, thank goodness. You finally answered!” Channing breathed out a sigh of relief, which I echoed. “Rel just got here and locked the house down. He won’t let me shift and help.”
“Good. Stay in the house. Protect Gramps,” I commanded, hoping she listened. I didn’t care if Channing shifted while safe at home. So long as she stayed put. “I just talked to Ricky. Riley and I are going further inland on foot.”
“You could lose them if you follow the creek to the waterfall,” she suggested, and I tossed the idea around.
“The cool spring water would help mask our scent,” I agreed. “We’re leaving our phones, but we’ll contact you when we’re able.”
“Stay safe, Fowler,” Channing whispered, and I could hear the sob she held back before disconnecting the call.
“We’re going to the waterfall?” Riley asked, and I looked up to find him wringing his hands, anxiety pouring off him in waves.
“Yes.”
Cupping his face between my hands, I kissed his lips. Knowing we were being pushed out of the sex bubble I’d reveled in, I tried to enjoy this last embrace.
It was time to run.
Chapter thirty
Riley
Going from blissful and sated to flat-out scared for my life was jarring, to say the least. But when Fowler gestured to me from the open door, I took his hand and followed him out of the cabin without question. We left our things and his bike behind without a backward glance, and I knew he would keep me safe, the same as he had when we were young.
It may have been that I was on a run for my life, or my newly presented omega side, but I felt like all my senses were heightened. I kept turning to find the source of a sound, only for my vision to home in on a squirrel or robin further away than I expected. I wasn’t going to question my newfound skills if they kept me alert.
Despite the cheerful birdsong, every nerve in my body was on edge. The sun was halfway up, shining brightly over the trees, so I guessed it was midmorning. Which was when I realized we didn’t have the cover of night to shroud us in darkness. Though I wasn’t sure if it would even help when dealing with shifters.
Jogging off into the woods of the King Pack land, Fowler held back branches for me, only letting my hand go to shield me from the scratches he was getting.
“Why don’t you shift and heal those?” I suggested. “And aren’t your senses better as a wolf?”
It had been over a decade since I’d seen Fowler in his wolf form, and I remembered it fondly. On the rare occasions he shifted in front of me, I’d marveled at how his wolf was bigger than him, expanding by some ancient magic. Even though I was envious of the ability to shift, I wanted Fowler to be as strong as possible, so he didn’t get hurt, but I also had a burning desire to see him take on the shift.
“I can’t…I mean…I haven’t…” Fowler stumbled over his words in an uncharacteristic show of nerves.
“You haven’t what?” I prompted, taking his hand in mine to slow us down.
He looked out at the trees as if they would have the answer to my question. “I haven’t shifted in a long time.”
Pulling him to a stop, I spoke softly. “What’s a long time? I saw your hand shift at the high school.”
“Sure, I’ve shifted my hands when I had an injury to heal. But not—” Fowler cut himself off, finally meeting my eyes. “What if I shift and I’m not the same?”
