Page 36 of Forsaken

Like always, we’re on the same team.

15

There’s nothing romantic about shirking mate laws. It is dark, gritty, and…sexy, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Apparently, I’m into that kind of thing.

The chill in the air pricks my skin. It’s as if I should feel cold, but I don’t. I can tell it’s there, but it doesn’t touch me. Being a shifter can be so cool sometimes.

Despite the weird fucking foursome we make, me, Nathan, Sean, and Gayle hang out at the party. There are so many shifters here that I grew up with that it almost seems like old times. The liquor is flowing. The bass is thumping. Even the setting, in the middle of Crescentwood Forest, is familiar, like pulling on an old shirt.

Under any other circumstances, I could trick myself into believing that there isn’t anything I have to deal with outside of this.

Nathan is eyeballing my fated mate like he wants to kill him every time he’s within touching distance of me. A fact that makes me feel incredibly sexy. That, and I may have partaken in a couple of shots before we even left the house. Now that I’ve been here for at least an hour, I’ve added to that total.

Sean fills up my cup. “I thought you said you hadn’t drank in a while?”

I tip the cup to him. “That’s probably why this is all going to my head. I’m afraid I’ll get sloppy soon.”

Honestly, Sean’s presence is only annoying me at this point. Nathan put it into perspective: If he’s not saving me, he’s willfully hurting me. In my mind, that’s unforgiveable. He knows the stakes as well as I do.

I’m kind of hoping Nathan does take his head off. We could slip into the woods and run away.

That’s definitely the alcohol talking. Land of wasted wishes.

It doesn’t help that Sean is being particularly touchy tonight. Gayle is ignoring us both, which is fine by me since every time I see her I want to gouge her eyes out.

So far, I’ve successfully avoided dancing or even swaying with Sean, but by doing so, I’m pretty sure I’m putting off vibes I shouldn’t be. Turns out drunk Mia doesn’t like to fuck around with particulars.

The alcohol numbs my responsibilities. It shreds my inhibitions. Not to the point where I’d go streaking through the party or anything—that’s never on my radar—but to the point where ignoring Sean seems like a good idea.

“When are we going to have that dinner at your parents’ house?”

“If I could get my mom to text me, that might happen,” I tell him.

He frowns. “Sorry about that.”

I snort. Literally snort. “Sorry. Not sure that cuts it.”

“I guess I didn’t think about all the consequences.”

“How about now?” I shout over the music. “How about after I told you I’ll have to go Feral?”

My dumbass happens to shout that just as the song changes. Everyone within a few feet radius turns to look at me, and I tip my cup to them.

“Jesus, Mia,” Sean grinds out.

Nathan peers over at me. He watches my body language, no doubt noticing that I’ve probably had a little too much.

I look away. “What? It’s the truth.”

“That wasn’t my decision.”

I laugh, the sound harsh on a liquor high. “Well, it certainly wasn’t mine.” I down the rest of the drink, and Sean is there filling it up again.

He looks off to the side and nods his head. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but his forehead is pinched in concentration. “Let’s take a walk.”

I shrug. “Are we actually going to do some real talking? If not, I’d rather stay here.”

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