What if Parker gets surrounded? What if Callen doesn’t get to Ryder in time? What if they don’t make it back?
The longer I wait, the louder the doubts get.
Maybe I’m not cut out for this world.
Maybe I’ll never be more than a liability, someone they have to guard instead of someone who can guard herself.
I stand there in the middle of the bedroom, my hands useless at my sides. Every second that ticks by feels like another piece carved off me. I think about how, if I were like them, I would probably have already been out there fighting alongside them. But I’m just here, waiting.
Some mate I am.
My eyes go to the door. I need to see Jaxon, need to reassure myself that at least one thing is still safe and steady. The image of his little sleeping form will be my anchor until they all come home.
I cross the hall and push his door open gently.
It’s empty. v to se see
At first, I freeze, staring at the rumpled blanket like maybe my brain is just too slow him there, but the bed is empty. His pillow is cold.
A sound tears out of me, half sob, half gasp as my legs nearly give out.
Oh God.
I race through the house, calling his name. My voice echoes off the walls, sounding wild and desperate even to my own ears. The kitchen. The living room. Every bathroom. Nothing.
I’m already shaking my head before I get back to the stairs. I didn’t hear anything. He can’t have just… walked out.
Unless someone got in. The thought is like acid in my veins.
I tear down the stairs and fling the front door open. Cold night air slaps me in the face. The yard is empty.
“Jaxon!” My voice is hoarse now, breaking on his name. I take a step out, then another, scanning the darkness.
He’s gone. Just gone.
I don’t even think. I just run. A sound rips from my chest as I bolt towards the edge of the woods. My feet are already moving before I register that I’m barefoot, that the night is swallowing me whole.
“Jaxon!” My voice cracks. “Baby, answer me!”
Branches whip at my arms as I push into the treeline. My vision is blurred with tears, my mind spinning in a cyclone of terror and guilt.
I let this happen. I was right there, and I let someone take my son.
“Jaxon!” My scream splinters the night.
Then, out of nowhere, arms wrap around me, strong and unyielding, a strong hand clamping. over my mouth. I thrash, clawing at them, but they drag me backward, off the narrow trail, down into a ditch I hadn’t even seen.
The smell of earth is thick in my nose as they pull me against the base of a tree. My heart’s a thunderous roar in my ears.
I’ve failed. Not just my son, but all of them.
N.O Darling
Sorry for the lack of updates. I had a few days of severe migraines a time for a while, plus my migraine medication makes me drowsy and want to risk writing absolute nonsense while under the influence
**Paige’s POV **
The grip ip on me is like iron restraints. One arm bands across my ribs, pinning my arms, other pressing a warm hand over my mouth so tightly I can barely breathe. the
I kick and twist, but whoever’s holding me is bigger and stronger. Unnaturally strong. A wolf for sure. Hopefully, one with good intentions. I don’t think it’s any of my mates. I’m not getting that safe feeling they bring, but then it’s hard to feel safe at all right now. I try to force calm, but my heart is slamming like it’s trying to break out of my chest. The ditch swallows us in darkness, the cold earth seeping into my feet, a stark contrast to the warm body behind me.
Above us, twigs snap under the weight of heavy boots. Multiple sets. The thud and crunch of men moving fast… Hunters?
My breath hitches against the palm covering my mouth.
“Where the hell did she go?” a rough voice mutters impatiently from above.
“Keep moving, she can’t have got far,” another snaps.
They’re so close I can hear their heavy breathing, the faint clinking of metal gear, the click of a safety being flicked off a gun. My body goes rigid with terror.
The arm around me tightens. My captor lowers us both until my back is flush to his chest and his chin hovers just over my shoulder, keeping us completely still.
Every second stretches into an eternity. The smell of damp earth fills my lungs, mingling with the sharp tang of something familiar from the arm holding me. I can hear my own pulse in my ears, pounding so loud I’m certain they’ll hear it too.
One set of footsteps stops. “You hear that?”
My stomach flips. I don’t know what they heard. Me, my captor, or something else, but my every instinct screams at me to bolt.
The man holding me doesn’t move. His breathing is steady, controlled, his chest solid against my spine. I can feel the tension in him, though, like a predator waiting for the exact moment to strike. Slowly, the hunters above move again, their voices fading deeper into the woods.
I count their steps until they go too far out of range for me to hear. Only then does the man shift. He twists me in his grip until I can see his face.
Moonlight filters through the branches, highlighting blonde hair, a strong jawline, and eyes 1 know.
Remy.
My whole body sags with a messy mix of relief and confusion.
He presses a finger to his lips, his gaze burning into mine. I nod, my chest still heaving with panic. Then he removes his hand, and I gasp, about to whisper his name, but his head jerks to the side, eyes scanning the darkness above us. His focus is sharp, every muscle tense, his wolf’s senses obviously tracking the hunters still moving nearby.
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