Page 33 of Immortal Bastard

She carefully lifted his arm off of her torso and curled it around a pillow, as if the synthetic sack of fluff felt remotely similar to her warm body. His mate obviously decided he was a fool with the intellect of a tree stump.

She slithered lower, bending and sliding out from under the covers until she crouched on the floor. Stealthily, she tiptoed toward the door, her hand reaching for the metal handle. He watched her from under his lashes, amused and curious. The latch gave way and the hinge creaked.

Her back pressed to the wall, her breathing silent. Slipping through the narrowest crack, she slunk into the hall. He rolled his eyes.

His ears traced her steps down the staircase and to the front door. He would have no issue tracking her, but it was daylight, so others would likely spot her and that would result in arduous questions and unwanted attention.

After decades of publicly suffering the abandonment of his father, he could not stomach the thought of a mate on the run. The taunts would be too familiar for him to tolerate.

The knob of the front door clicked and her soft footfalls sprinted down the porch. The erratic tremor of her racing heart called to him. It always would now that they were bound. If only the foolish female understood he was the absolute last male she needed to fear, she’d see she had no cause to run.

Her bare feet beat against the earth, slipping over the dewy grass as labored breath rushed from her lungs, more out of habit than necessity. Her behavior proved she had yet to understand what she’d become, as she was still carrying on as if she had the limitations of a human. If she wanted to, she could run faster than a modern vehicle and leap beyond the trees, but her mortal memories limited her. That was probably best, being that he would eventually have to catch up to her and bring her back home.

He used their mental link to see what she saw. Reaching the tree line, she paused, likely confused by her surroundings and unsure which direction was closer to English civilization. There were acres to travel before she’d reach a highway or public road.

She cut across the field leading to the stone barn and then broke into a dead run. Her heartbeat kept pace for nearly a mile, then her feet slowed and he grinned, sensing she was catching on to her new gifts and realizing her stamina could only be defined as inhuman.

Enough playing around. It was time to retrieve her.

Christian threw back the covers and stood. Sliding on his shirt, he prepared for another battle, knowing she wouldn’t come easily.

She was nearing the edge of his property line, a good several acres from his home, but nothing he couldn’t cross in under a minute. His mind reached for hers, sending a casual brush she likely wouldn’t recognize yet, but he liked that they shared a mental thread and he could reach her that way.

The moment his mind caressed hers, she staggered to a stop and he sensed her confusion, even detected that she wanted to ask if the mental brush had been him, but stubborn independence kept her worry to herself. Then she bolted, pushing her limits and running full speed toward the border.

Christian cursed, rushing out the door and after her.

The scent of smoke he detected in her mind acted as a sharp implication that she was about to be in the company of another. Christian raced over the field toward the old barn, just as his mate spotted the young male.

“Help me!” she cried before Christian could intercede. “Please!”

Thankfully, it was only Dane, a mortal half-breed with limited knowledge of their kind. His circumstances left him loyal to The Order, but Christian trusted no male in the presence of his mate. Even this one, who also happened to be his half-brother.

“I’m being held captive by a psychopath, and I need to use a phone!”

Startled by her outburst, Dane jumped back from where he’d been cutting wood. “Who are you?” Eyes wide, he blinked at her ragged attire. “Where did you get that dress?”

“My name’s Delilah and I need help! I don’t have much time! Please! A phone!”

Christian sighed and crossed the property line. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He should have never allowed her so much freedom.

“Who are you? How did you get here?”

“Please! I just want to go home. Some crazy asshole kidnapped me, and I think I’ve been drugged—”

“Someone drugged you?”

“Yes!” She closed the distance, and Christian had heard enough.

“Delilah,” he snapped as she reached out to grab Dane.

She spun away from him and held up her hands in a protective motion, backing toward the barn. “Stay away from me. I’m going home. I don’t want any trouble. I just want to leave peacefully.” Her voice cracked and she started to cry. “Please. You have to let me go.”

Dane met his stare. “Yours?”

“Mine.” Christian took a slow step forward then turned his attention back to his frantic mate. “This is your home, now.”

“No.” She shook her head, rejecting his claim. “No. You can’t just keep me here. I have a life and a business and friends—”

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