Page 35 of Forbidden Virgin Mate

For a second, I wonder if I can cover my tracks and absolve Zack without implicating myself. I suppose I could, but I don't think it would ever fully clear his name. The rumors would linger. People might assume he tried to wriggle out of it and put the money back. I either need to pin it on someone else or own up. And I've done enough damage to the packs.

Zack is dead to the world, and it’s no wonder, given how hard and long he fucked me last night. I shiver, thinking of how many different ways he'd taken me. The thought of never being with him again physically hurts. I've never gone all the way with a man before Zack, and I'm not sure I'll ever want anyone else. However, my feelings for him only intensify my burning desire to do the right thing.

I slide out of bed slowly and gently so as not to wake him. I freeze when he murmurs, then I whisper to him that I'm going to get some water. He nods sleepily and then strokes my arm. I fight the tears threatening to fall as I move through the cabin. Thankfully, my clothes remain where they fell last night, and I quickly dress, disabling his security system with one hand as I do.

His truck is parked in the bay, slightly away from the house, but turning the engine will still wake him up. Luckily, the truck is on a slight hill. I climb in and release the brake, letting the vehicle roll gently away from the cabin. The slope eventually levels off at the track junction, and I'm forced to turn the engine over, but I keep the lights off until I've turned the bend and am far enough away from the cabin.

I mentally thank Zack for insisting we bring his truck, which is already set up for all this snow. My smaller vehicle would have skidded down that hill. Even with the headlights on, the visibility is awful. I have to concentrate to stop the truck from sliding around on the icy roads.

I can just make out a junction in the distance.Which way did we come up? I should have paid more attention.

I make an educated guess and turn left, going further up the mountain because I remember we went up to come back down again. I begin to doubt my decision, though, when the track becomes bumpier; I don't remember it feeling this off-road. I see another junction coming up with a road sign covered in snow.

Stopping the truck, I get out to wipe the snow away. I'm immediately hit by the full force of the icy wind, which almost takes my breath away. Growing up on the coast, I'm not used to the extremes of weather. I pull my jacket around me and stumble over to the sign, hoping it'll help me get my bearings. I don't have time to panic if I'm going to make it back before the transfer.

Rosewood 26.

I've heard of Rosewood, but it's not close to Zack's house. At least, I've never driven through it. Realizing I'm probably on the wrong road, I decide to turn the truck around and head back the other way.

I get back in, turning the heat up as high as it will go. I may be a shifter and able to handle more extreme temperatures, but I still hate the damn cold.

Feeling slightly more confident now, I put on some music to drown out the constant chatter in my head. I wonder if Zack is awake yet, if he knows I'm gone. This isn't the first time I've run out on him after having sex, so he must think I'm crazy. I certainly feel crazy right now. My wolf is also going crazy. This isn't like last time. I'm deliberately running away from my mate, and my wolf knows I'm never going back. The clawing feeling racing up my spine is becoming increasingly intense.

Growing up without a pack, I don't have much real-life experience of true mates. My parents are certainly committed and call themselves mates, but I never saw them as much inspiration for the concept. Perhaps that's unfair, though, as they have stuck together despite everything that's been thrown at them.

I'm doing the exact opposite. I've betrayed my mate, and now I'm abandoning him. I shake that thought away. I'm not abandoning him; I'm doing the right thing. After he learns what I’ve done, he won't want me to stay, anyway. And there's zero chance of the pack accepting me once my crimes are revealed.

I'll head back to San Francisco and try to appease my parents by explaining how I convinced Zack we were mates and then broke his heart. Maybe I'll send over the file detailing my parents’ innocence to both packs. Perhaps that will be enough for them.

Even if it's not enough, I'm done being at the center of my parents’ bitterness. I can appreciate why they're resentful without internalizing it myself. If being here has taught me anything, it's that. I have to forge a good life, or I'll end up just like them.

I have enough money to move back to the city so I can still look after them, still try to talk my dad into rehab. But I know I have to create some proper distance first. They probably won't even care that I’m back home since I didn’t carry out the plan.

I can either destroy Zack and Saffy or make my parents happy. I've made my choice. What happened to my family wasn’t Zack and Saffy's fault. Punishing them shouldn't make my parents happy.

The snow is falling harder again, and I'm torn between driving faster and going slow enough to be able to see. There should be another road soon to take me up and over the ridge into the next valley, but I can't see anything. I lean forward slightly, trying to see better, when something runs in front of the truck. I can't even see what it is, but I instinctively move to avoid it, breaking hard to the right. I lose sight of the road as the show whips around me, and then suddenly, I realize I've left the road altogether.

The truck bounces over rough ground. I try desperately to make it stop, but I'm going too fast, and the road is too icy. I scream as the truck tips over onto its side, and I'm powerless to stop it as it slides down a hill, metal scraping against tree branches and tearing off the doors. I can feel my body bouncing in the cabin as it slams into one tree after another, all my efforts to slow or stop it failing.

Finally, it comes to a stop at the bottom of what I assume is a hillside. Half the truck is in a shallow ditch. The front of it is crumpled against an oak tree, and the doors have been ripped off completely. I can see wisps of steam rising from the destroyed engine.

I'm covered in snow and ice and shocked by what just happened. I try to move, but pain instantly shoots through my leg when I do. Looking down, I see a branch has impaled me through the thigh, pinning me to the seat.

I try to stay calm. I wipe snow from my face, only to realize it's mixed with blood. I have a large gash on my head.

I know I need to shift in order to heal quicker, but I can't do that with this branch in my leg. Testing my resolve, I tug at the branch, the searing pain making me want to vomit. Looking up the hillside, I know there's no way anyone is coming to help me, and the snow will already be covering any tracks.

I can't stay here.

I see my abandoned scarf in the footwell and reach for it, tying it around my leg to soak up some of the blood. Then, slowly, I pull out the branch, pausing occasionally to let the feelings of nausea pass. I consider it might be better to pull it out quickly, but I think I might pass out. I'm a hacker, not some kind of wilderness expert.

As I finally pull the branch free, I almost cry with relief. My whole leg burns, and I can barely bring myself to look at the amount of blood I'm losing.

I drag myself backward until I'm leaning against the tree. I pull my phone from my pocket, completely unsurprised that I have no signal. Coverage is intermittent at best in the mountain, and I hadn’t had any since leaving the cabin. The truck is balanced precariously against two trees, but looking beyond it is a deeper drop. I can hear the metal groaning and shifting, so as much as I'd prefer to shelter in the truck, I can't trust it won't move again.

Shifting is my only option, but as I try, the bones in my leg twist and flex. I don't know what's wrong. Even if it's broken, it should still work. I pull the scarf from my leg, and despite my nausea, I check the wound. I can see debris inside and something sharp—a bone, maybe glass. I try to pull it out but almost black out from the pain.

I need help. My parents always told me if I was injured, shifting was the answer. But if I can't shift, I don't know what to do.

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