Page 60 of Untamed

“Mrs. Livestrong, it’s Kinsey.”

“Kinsey, are you okay? Is Jonah okay?”

I bite my lip. “Jonah’s fine, but his wolf is going all alpha, and he’s having a really hard time leaving me at the academy. He needs help. He’s...freaking out.”

“Of course he is,” she says. “Where is he right now, honey?”

“I left him down in his truck. I’m afraid he might shift and do something stupid.”

“I’ll go get him,” I hear Johnathan say in the background.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, tears threatening my eyes. I should be down there with him. He’s my mate.

She sighs. “You did the right thing, Kinsey. Jonah can’t help himself, and you can’t help your situation. Just relax. Deep breaths. I’m going to call my son. Are you okay to go up to your room?”

“Yeah,” I choke out. “I told him I was going straight there.”

“Good. Go straight there. It’ll help to know that you’re safe.”

“Okay.”

She mutters a goodbye but doesn’t wait for my own. I hang up the phone and put everything back in the file before hurrying to my room, the bag with my dress and shoes bouncing against my thigh as I sprint.

I use the key to open my door and walk inside, dropping everything in my path to my bed and just flop down on it. I stay there staring at the ceiling, counting down the minutes to when I think Jonah might meet up with his father. If Jonah stayed in the truck, maybe a half hour. If he started heading home, it would be quicker. If he shifted, who knows?

Forty-five minutes later, after my eyes feel as if they’re sliced open, my phone rings. I answer it right away. “Jonah?”

“It’s Cindy. We have him.”

I breathe out in relief when I hear his mother’s voice. “Is he okay?”

“His dad’s talking to him, but he’s home. Can I tell him that you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve just been worried about him.”

On the other end, I hear Mrs. Livestrong report to Jonah, “Kinsey is fine. She’s absolutely perfect. I’m talking to her now.”

The phone muffles for a brief moment. “Mrs. Livestrong?”

“It’s me,” Jonah’s gruff voice answers.

My heart lodges in my throat. “Are you okay? Are you mad at me?”

He chuckles softly. “No, I’m not mad. I do have you to thank for a nice bite mark on my shoulder, though.”

My mouth drops. “Your dad bit you?”

“I deserved it. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Like father, like son,” his mom calls out.

I smile into the phone, all the tension over the past few hours slowly draining away. My body rests—finally—against the bed.

“Call me as soon as you get up,” he orders. “Otherwise, I won’t promise not to show up, and we’ll go Feral together.”

“Jonah Livestrong,” his parents scold at the same time.

I chuckle. “They weren’t fans of that comment.”

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