Page 25 of The Alpha's Bounty
My plan is already set: walk in, call her name, find her curled up in bed.Then wake her the way I’ve been dreaming about all afternoon—with a kiss between her thighs, watching her come apart in my hands.I know she’s probably asleep after how thoroughly I wore her out, and the thought makes me grin, heat sparking low in my stomach.
The cabin is quiet when I push the door open, the scent of woodsmoke and pine wrapping around me.I kick off my boots, balancing the pizza box in one hand.
“Mina!”I call, heading toward the stairs.“Got dinner.Hope you’re hungry, little mate.”
Silence.
I shake my head, amused.She must be out cold.She’s still not used to my appetite for her, and the thought makes me laugh softly to myself.“Wore you out, didn’t I?”I murmur, climbing the steps two at a time.
But when I reach our room, the bed is empty.The sheets are smoothed, the quilt folded back neatly.My frown deepens.
Maybe she went into town.Maybe she thought she’d surprise me.The idea makes sense, but a thread of unease worms its way into my chest anyway.
I head back downstairs and set the pizza on the table.
That’s when I see it.
A folded piece of paper pinned beneath the salt shaker.
Relief hits me first.A note.She must’ve gone out to get something she needed.
But when I unfold the paper and read the words, the ground drops out from under me.
Cyrus,
I can’t letyou do this for me.You deserve someone who doesn’t drag you down with old mistakes.Someone who doesn’t cost you everything.I’m grateful to you, more than I can ever say, but I can’t stay.This is something I need to face on my own.Please don’t follow me.
—Mina
For a moment,I can’t breathe.The words blur, my vision tunneling as if the cabin’s walls are closing in.My heart slams once, twice, then plummets into my stomach.
My bear erupts in a roar so loud that it rattles my bones.No!Ours.She’s ours.Get her.Now.
The paper crumples in my fist, my hand shaking with fury and fear.My mate has left me.She thinks I’ll let her walk out and face this alone.She doesn’t understand.Doesn’t see that she’s not a burden, not a mistake.She’s mine.My other half.My everything.
And she’s gone.
The thought tears through me like claws.My chest aches with it, raw and jagged, my bear thrashing inside me, desperate to break free and tear through the woods until we find her.
I don’t waste another second.
I’m out the door before the note hits the table again, running for the truck.The engine roars to life, and I slam my foot on the gas, gravel spitting behind me as I tear down the road toward town.
The drive is a blur, my hands white-knuckled on the wheel, my mind filled with nothing but her face.Every mile feels like it’s pulling her further from me, and I growl low in my chest, urging the truck faster.
When I reach the bus station, I park crookedly and leap out, my heart pounding.The platform is crowded, the air thick with exhaust and chatter, but I don’t see her.
I shove through people, scanning every face, calling her name.“Mina!”
A few heads turn, but none of them is hers.
The woman at the counter looks up as I stalk toward her, my bear’s fury radiating off me in waves.“The bus to Columbus,” I snap.“When did it leave?”
“Five minutes ago,” she says, unconcerned.
Too late.
I stagger back a step, my stomach hollowing out.Five minutes.I missed her by five damn minutes.My bear snarls, slamming against my chest, howling with grief and rage.Go.Get her.Bring her back.Ours.
