Page 58 of Alpha Exile

"He's right." Reluctantly, I pull back from Kieran, squeezing his hand and giving him a lingering look. "I won't take more than a few minutes, though. I've just got to fetch a box, and I left my car parked at the house, so I'll drive back."

"I'll be waiting."

Flowing into my wolf form, I dig my paws into the earth and race across town. The late evening wind whips through my fur as I cover the short distance in record time.

I love that my mates trust me enough to let me be alone when I need to be. Their trust in me, and their faith in our mate bond, is something else.

Though I can feel Lance’s watchful presence in the back of my mind, ready and willing to respond to my call should I need him.

I’m stronger because he doesn’t insist that his strength makes mine weak.

Seeing the house ahead of me, I slow down and make a beeline towards the backyard, where the fire flowers greet me with a shake of their orange petals.

Shifting back to human form, I reach out to press my fingertips against the twining vines. They stretch towards me, curling around me encouragingly. Inhaling their campfire scent, I take refuge in the fact that the flowers, at least, are thriving.

If they can thrive in fire-bloated ground, then I can survive these torturous days missing my fifth mate. All I have to do is hang in there long enough to bloom.

Heading back into the house, I find that it smells even more damp and mildewy now, though the front door at least has been repaired. Cat already emptied out the kitchen, and Kerry cleaned up the bits of broken glass and debris from the fire. Heading into my bedroom, I grab the box of my father's letters, snag a few mementos from my bookcase, and walk towards the front door.

As I put my fingers on the doorknob, a prickle of awareness runs between my shoulder blades.

I'm being watched.

Taking a deep breath, I let my wolf rise to the surface and sort through the scents of the house around me. There's scorched wood, damp drywall, mud on the fire brigade's boots, old paper in my arms, and... a distant smell of bergamot and cloves.

I don't dare hope. After all, it makes perfect sense that the house would smell of Roarke. He helped restore the very boards of this place with his hands, after all, and spent plenty of time here strategizing, socializing, and being with me.

But the bergamot and cloves, spiced with a twist of citrus, are a sharp and recent scent in my nose. Unlike the smells of my other mates, of Cat and Kerry and Niall, this scent has been here recently.

I pace carefully through the hallways, opening bedroom and bathroom doors and scouring shadows. The scent comes and goes away, so I set down the cardboard box and pace back and forth until I find its source.

An open window in the guest bedroom.

Kerry must have propped it open to help the inside of the house dry, and forgotten to close it again. The scent of evergreen and deciduous trees washes over me, mingled with Oregon rain and lingering fire smoke.

I pace towards the window and stare into the trees outside, narrowing my eyes and letting my wolf vision wash over me.

I don't dare to hope—not completely. Not with a light heart. Hope has gotten me in trouble more times than I can count.

After several long seconds of staring at each tree trunk and turn, I see something move, and my eyes focus on a figure in the distance.

Not a man, but a beast.

Brown-black fur that reflects the moonlight overhead, streaked and splattered with blood. A muzzle that peels back from white fangs, tongue lolling out restlessly. And eyes that glow a strange, cunning black, the pupils reflecting the light overhead.

Roarke is here.

Twenty-Four

Delilah

Iapproach him warily, my fingers tingling with the power of the fire within my chest. Though the last thing I want is to scorch him with the flames, I can't forget the way he looked when he attacked Kieran, his eyes feral and the smell of him sick with the taint of the moon.

Looking around for Delphine, I don't spot her anywhere. And my skin doesn't prickle with the knowledge that she's here. But I can't quite believe she'd let him out of his grasp so easily.

He must've slipped loose.

Or she's put him here to tempt me or trap me.

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