Page 47 of The Beast's Betrayed Mate
“Just go already,” she said.
Olive didn’t need to be told twice. She turned, grabbing onto Peter’s fur and climbing onto his back again. Once she was positioned without the risk of falling, she leaned forward so that he’d know he was ready, and he set off down the hallway.
Michael and Mason were waiting. The gigantic alpha stood to one side, his sheer size taking up too much room. She didn’t dare look at him, her heart was already threatening to beat its way out of her chest, and her hands were so clammy she feared her hold would slip.
She could feel big teeth hungering to grab at her, keep her there.
But, of course, it was nothing but her overactive imagination.
They ran around a corner, and she yelled,Elevators.
The three wolves headed for them, all of them slowing to a halt before them. It wasn’t that they didn’t know what to do, but their noses were too big to press the button. Michael tried, and it didn’t light up.
Olive scooted forward on Peter’s back, directing him closer to the buttons.
“Good,” she said. “Now can you just… lean forward so I can get to the…”
She reached forward and pushed the button.
They waited in silence.
Are you really going to give that to her?Michael asked.
You know, I was going to, Olive said.A deal’s a deal, right? But then Peter pointed out that they’ll hunt us either way, and I think we’re better off with a bargaining chip. Something that will buy us time to get to the bottom of this. Maybe with the help of your father? The more ironclad we can make our evidence, the better. And I have a feeling whatever evidence is being kept here will be gone in the morning.
The elevator dinged, and they were all able to squeeze in, though it was a tight fit.
Thanks for coming, Peter said.
You’ve been to this facility before, right?Olive asked.
Oh, yeah, Michael said.Last week, actually. Got lots to tell you.
Clearly, Peter said.
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, Michael apologized.
No, no, that’s understandable. I mean, you’ve been through it. I can tell, so we’re good. I just… I wish you’d texted, at least. I thought you were dead.
You didn’t think I was dead.
For a minute I did, yeah, Peter objected.
The doors dinged open, and they shuffled back out.
They were on the lower level, the stark white walls once more offering their oppressive glare. Olive wondered how she’d put up with them for so long. Strange the things you accepted because you figured there was nothing you could do about them anyway.
Where’s the back entrance?Peter asked.
Follow me,Michael declared, taking the lead.
Peter and Mason both did, running in Michael’s wake.
Olive looked behind them at the corridors they were leaving behind. The corridors she had spent so much time in over the past four months, thinking she was there to serve something greater than herself at long last. Perhaps that’s where she continued to go wrong? She never thought she was enough, so she sought that outside thing that would tell her that she’d done good. The outside thing that would validate her. Perhaps that’s why she enlarged her own importance in other people’s lives, invited them into hers when they hadn’t done much to prove they deserved it.
But then, she hadn’t been all wrong in that regard either.
Because she’d been right about Peter feeling something for her back in school.
