Page 22 of Tempest

He’d be stuck in limbo, haunted with flashes of a life he could never remember.

Did he have a family out there worried about what had happened to him? Did he have… a mate? Someone he loved and cared about, who was waiting on him to come back home to them?

Something told him that wasn’t the case. He might have parents or siblings out there somewhere, sick with fear over him, but would his eagle react to the big panther if they had a mate?

Seemed unlikely. Even without memories, he trusted his eagle.

But should he say something in the morning to let Cash know things were already starting to trickle back into his brain? Would he bring Ore back to Alpha Amato’s house to be interrogated again?

He wasn’t sure he’d be ready to do that again so soon. And unless he woke up in a much clearer state than he was now, he wouldn’t be able to answer anything more than he had already.

No, he wouldn’t say anything until he knew something for sure. Somethinghelpful.

There was no reason to get anyone’s hopes up about being able to send him on his way with a clear conscience before it was a reality. His stomach turned at the idea of being cast out, but he tried to ignore it. It wasn’t fair to feel rejected. This wasn’t his pack. They weren’t his people, his family. Liam Amato wasn’t his alpha.

He didn’t belong.

A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, wetting his pillow. Groaning softly, he swiped hurriedly at his face. He was wallowing, and he had to stop. He had more important things to focus on than hurt feelings over not getting invited to join a pack he really knew nothing about.

Like, what kind of monster used a magically modified virus to try and kill someone?

Sniffling, he flipped over, turning his back on the cheery moonlight and facing the full bookcases lining the front edge of the loft. Before curling up on the couch, Ore had taken a closer inspection of Cash’s collection. There was quite the variety, though it seemed like he enjoyed autobiographies and thrillers the most. Neither was Ore’s favorite, but he wondered if there was a bookstore nearby for him to have such a collection or if he ordered all of them online.

He sighed and shut his eyes. Not that it mattered. He didn’t have any money to buy himself some books he would like. He didn’t even have clothes or a phone.

An aching loneliness spread through his limbs. He tucked them in close to his body, making himself into a ball as small as he could. The house was so quiet it was almost as if he were all by himself again. Left to stew in his fear and worries.

For a moment, his mind convinced him hewasall alone, abandoned by the cat who didn’t really want him there.

His heart rate spiked, and his breaths turned choppy, even as he told himself it wasn’t true. He would’ve heard Cash leave if he’d taken off again. Logically, he knew Cash was right below him, but he couldn’t shake off the idea after it took root in his mind.

Maybe he could go and check just to be sure?

If he laid eyes on him, Ore was sure it would settle his anxiety. Maybe while he was up, he could get a glass of water or warm milk, something to try and help him fall asleep. He eased the covers back from his body, his feet landing lightly on the floor beneath him. He crept as slowly as he could across the loft and down the wide, wooden steps.

Taking a sharp turn around the banister, he followed the wall all the way back to the closed bedroom door. He hesitated just outside, his ears straining to hear anything on the other side. His hearing just wasn’t as good as other kinds of shifters though, so all he could pick up was a soft tick of a clock somewhere in the living room.

He was going to really piss Cash off if he woke him up. He just knew it…

His anxiety kept bubbling in his veins, whispering at him that he was on his own. That the person who’d nearly killed him would come and get him, and no one would be there to help him. He’d end up getting dosed again. He’d end up in pain, locked in a basement or dumped in the middle of nowhere. He’d never find his way back to Cash?—

Heart pounding in his ears, he gripped the door handle and turned it as silently as he could with his shaking hand. He only pushed the door open far enough to stick his head past it.

The inside of the room was a lot darker than the loft had been. The curtains pulled closed over the windows, blocking out all of the moonlight. His eagle eyes adjusted quickly though, andhe spotted Cash’s enormous body sprawled on the bed, one arm flung out to the side.

He let out a long breath, trying to settle his pulse. He wasn’t alone. Even if Cash didn’t want him here, he hadn’t just left him to fend for himself.

Whoever had done those terrible things to him wouldn’t be able to take him back.

“What are you doing, Ore?”

Cash’s deep voice, thick with sleep, called out to him before he could pull the door all the way shut. He bit his lip and pushed it back open.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered out, not sure how to explain.

“Are you okay?” Cash asked, sitting up in bed.

Ore’s eagle trilled in his chest at the site of all of that bare skin as the covers dropped to Cash’s waist. There were tattoos covering a lot of his white, lightly tanned skin. Both biceps, a shoulder, and his forearms were decorated with black ink. Now that they weren’t hidden, he could see the faintest glow coming from a handful.

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