Just a cold satisfaction that she’d finally understand what it meant to defy me. What it cost to say no when I expected compliance.
She’d learn.
One way or another, she’d learn.
And if she didn’t make it back to civilization? If something happened to her out there in the heat and the wilderness?
Well. That would solve a lot of my problems, wouldn’t it.
The limo picked up speed. The road stretched out ahead of us, leading toward Skollrend. Leading home.
I poured myself another whiskey and tried not to think about the girl in the white dress standing alone in the sun.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
Because the moment the glass touched my lips, something shifted. A faint pressure at the edge of my mind – the mate bond, the one I’d been pretending didn’t matter – flickered. One heartbeat it was there, faint but steady, the irritating hum of her presence. The next heartbeat, nothing. Like someone had cut a cord clean through my chest.
I blinked and sat up straighter. My hand tightened around the glass. Cold whiskey sloshed over my knuckles, but I didn’t feel it. I reached inward again, instinctively, to the bond. Still nothing. Just a strange emptiness where she should be.
“She’s shielding,” I muttered. The words came out lower than I meant them to, almost to myself. “Little Omega thinks she can still play games.”
But my stomach didn’t believe me. It clenched hard, cold and tight. What if that wasn’t a shield? What if that wasn’t a sulk. What if this was…gone.
I snapped my head toward Garrett. “Stop the car.”
He twisted in his seat, eyes wide. “Alpha?”
“I said stop the car!” My voice cracked like a whip. The whiskey glass hit the floor, spilling dark amber across the carpet. “Now!”
The driver jumped at the sound. The limo screeched as it slowed, tires crunching gravel on the edge of the road. Garrett fumbled for the lock button, but I’d already leaned forward and hit it myself.
The door clicked open. Hot air flooded in, carrying the smell of sun-baked asphalt and pine.
I shoved out of the seat, scanning the road behind us. It curved out of sight between the trees, empty except for shimmering heat.
“Alpha,” Garrett said carefully, “you told me to drive. We’re miles out already.”
I ignored him. My pulse pounded against my throat, loud enough to drown out the engine’s idle. The mate bond still wasn’t there. Not even a whisper. Just dead space.
She should have been a speck on the horizon by now, but I couldn’t see her. No white dress. No movement. Nothing.
I grabbed Garrett by the collar, dragging him halfway out of his seat. “Turn the car around,” I said, each word slow and precise. “Now.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”
The limo swung in a sharp U-turn, tires spitting gravel. My eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, hunting for any glimpse of her. The sun glared off the windshield, making my vision blur, but I didn’t blink.
All I could think was, She shouldn’t be able to shield like that. Not her. Not an Omega.
And if it wasn’t shielding…
FIA
I didn’t look back.
The car drove away, and I stood there in the middle of that empty road watching the black limo disappear around a curve. The engine noise faded. Then it was just me and the heat and the trees pressing in from both sides.
Good riddance.
My hands were shaking. Not from fear. From pure rage. The audacity of that man. The complete and total arrogance. He actually thought I’d crawl back to him. Thought I’d sign his degrading contract and play along with whatever sick fantasy he had about breaking me.
He didn’t know me at all.
I looked down at the wedding dress. The white fabric was already dusty at the hem, and sweat was starting to collect under my arms and along my spine. The sun beat down on my head, and I could feel my skin beginning to burn. This dress was going to be a nightmare to walk in, but I’d manage. I always managed.
The road stretched ahead and behind. Empty in both directions. Heat shimmered off the pavement, making the air look like water.
Following the road would be the obvious choice. It had to lead somewhere eventually. Either back to Silver Creek or forward to Skollrend. But obvious was stupid. Cian would expect me to stick to the road. When I didn’t come crawling back like he expected, he’d probably send someone to pick me up. To drag me to his pack territory and make an example of me.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
Besides, the sun was brutal out here in the open. No shade. No cover. Just miles of black pavement soaking up heat and radiating it back at me. I’d be dehydrated within hours. Sunburned and delirious by nightfall.
The forest was right there. Dense and dark and cool looking. Old Thomas had taught me better than this. Survival wasn’t about taking the easy path. It was about taking the smart one.
I gathered up the skirt of the wedding dress and headed for the tree line.
The first step into the shade felt like heaven. The temperature dropped at least ten degrees. My skin stopped prickling with heat. I could breathe without feeling like I was inhaling fire.
I kept walking.
The forest floor was covered in pine needles and dead leaves. They crunched under my bare feet. I’d lost my shoes somewhere. Probably left them at the wedding hall. Or maybe they’d fallen off in the limo. It didn’t matter. Shoes were a luxury I couldn’t worry about now.
Old Thomas used to take me out into the woods when I was younger. Before everything went wrong. Before Milo. Before Hazel and Isobel decided I was convenient target practice for their schemes. He’d been a sentinel for forty years, and he knew forest terrain like other people knew their own homes.
“A good tracker thinks three steps ahead,” he’d say. His voice was gravel and smoke, worn down by years of shouting orders. “You look at where you are. You look at where you’re going. And you look at where trouble might be hiding.”
I wasn’t a great tracker. But I’d learned enough. Enough to know that staying parallel to the road would keep me from getting completely lost. Enough to know that heading east would eventually get me back to Silver Creek. Enough to survive.
Maybe.
I pushed through low hanging branches. Stepped over fallen logs. The wedding dress caught on thorns and brambles, and I heard fabric tear. Good. The thing was ridiculous anyway. Who designed a dress that was more hindrance than help?
The mate bond was still there in my chest. That artificial connection the healer had reached out to the goddess to force into existence. I could feel it humming. Could feel Cian on the other end of it, distant but present.
I focused on it. Wrapped my mental hands around it and pushed. Hard.
The bond flickered. Dimmed. Then disappeared completely behind a wall I’d built in my mind.
Shielding had been Milo’s idea. Back when we were still together. Back when I thought he loved me and we were going to have a future. He’d taught me how to block the bond when we needed privacy. When we didn’t want feeling everything we felt to affect our daily lives.
“It’s like closing a door,” he’d said. His hands had been gentle on my shoulders. His smile had been warm. Everything about him had been a lie, but the skill was real. “You just picture a barrier between you and the bond. Make it solid. Make it real. And push.”
I’d practiced for weeks until I could do it without thinking. Until the shield went up automatically whenever I wanted it.
Now it was second nature.
I didn’t want Cian feeling where I was. Didn’t want him tracking me through the bond like I was some lost pet. He could figure out on his own that I wasn’t coming back.
My phone was still in the pocket of this ridiculous dress. It was a good thing I’d grabbed it this morning before that sham of a wedding. Before everything went to hell. The battery had to be nearly dead by now, but it was worth checking.
I pulled it out. The screen was cracked from where I’d fallen at the altar, but it still worked. Barely. Three percent battery. No signal.
Of course there was no signal. We were in the middle of nowhere. Private territory that probably didn’t have cell towers within miles.
But I had to try.
I kept walking and held the phone up, watching for bars. Nothing. Still nothing. The battery ticked down to two percent.
Then one bar appeared. Weak and flickering, but there.
I stopped walking. Held my breath. Dialed my father’s number.
It rang once. Twice. Then a recorded message. “The number you are trying to reach is not available.”
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