Page 11

EMME

W e had been underground—in a bunker that was completely buried except for one doorway, that we ran up a single set of metal stairs to reach.

That was why there’d been no windows, and if I hadn’t had Finley’s bear nudging me in the right direction, I’d never have made it out of the labyrinth of halls and rooms.

Two dead guards were sprawled near the exit, puddles of blood congealed around their torn throats. It didn’t bother me. These traitors made the decision to work for evil itself, and death via bear was the consequences of their actions.

As dry, frigid air hit me, I noticed that the bunker appeared to be buried in the middle of what looked like desert.

The late-afternoon light showcased the rocky and arid terrain, with large cliffs visible off in the distance.

There wasn’t any snow on the ground, which was great news for my bare feet.

The rocks would be bad enough, and I didn’t want to add frostbite to the mix.

I mean, I’d have literally run over burning coals or through an icy tundra to get the hell out of here and back to my pack, but it was much nicer if I didn’t have to.

We sprinted as the ground shook, Finley falling on all fours to move faster. My fitness in my human form was woeful at best, and I was filled with an urge to shift, but my wolf remained buried deep, and I didn’t have time to coax her out.

Finley noticed fairly quickly that not only was I slowing, I also breathed like an asthmatic human.

In my defense, he was really barreling along, and I doubted many could keep up in their bipedal form.

He slowed to my pace, and as I turned to apologize, he swept his head around and hit my side.

With a shriek, I was lifted and tossed onto his back, landing awkwardly as I scrabbled not to fall.

I caught myself on his fur, and he didn’t give me a chance to get comfortable. He took off rapidly again.

At first it felt weird riding on the back of a bear, but I quickly stopped caring and slumped forward into his fur, my legs hanging awkwardly on either side. I had to keep them a little tucked to not hit anything—not that Finley appeared to notice or care in his race for our safety and freedom.

The ground still shook behind us, and energy in the air crackled against my skin. It reminded me that a dragon was busting through that underground bunker, and he was going to hunt us down like prey.

Finley and I both understood how it felt to be prey, though for him it was only when he was younger. I’d been prey for most of my existence, and even with my alphas and pack, it remained the case.

Slade had tried to warn me that I needed to be stronger in all ways if I wanted to survive. Fitness, fighting ability, weapons. My skills were lacking, and it was never more obvious than today when I had to be carried by a freaking bear because I couldn’t keep up.

Today would be the last time I was this pathetic and vulnerable.

Yeah, I’d always be smaller and weaker than alphas, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t train to be the very best version of myself.

The vibrations picked up, and so did Finley’s pace. How long he could keep this up with my additional weight was a concern, but so far he wasn’t faltering. I didn’t know a lot about bears, but I got the sense that they were fast over short distances and not designed to sprint for miles.

Where are you? I called for my wolf, and the faintest hint of her essence touched my fingers. We need to shift . Her desolate cry was my reply, and my frustration reared up strongly.

I mourned our missing mates too, and the fact that we’d been forcibly mated to a beast didn’t help either, but we couldn’t just give up. Please. Find your strength .

When I got nothing more than a listless huff, I decided to let her be. She might have the wild spirit of a wolf, but she was also an omega. We weren’t designed to live without our mates.

We were the heart of the pack, and when the tethers to our bonded ones—which also included Talon now—stretched thin, it crushed our spirit.

Only the human side could fight, and I would, with everything I had.

Like that surge of heat and strength back in the bunker. I had no idea what it was or where it came from, but it was power I hoped to find again.

Ahead of us, a parcel of trees rose up to break the endless desert landscape.

This random patch of forest was bordered on one side by a rocky cliff that might also offer shelter from a dragon’s sight.

Finley beelined for the trees, and we both knew our only hope was to find somewhere to hide and regroup.

There was no outrunning Talon, not once he got clear of the bunker—his size would only slow him down until he was out in the open.

And despite our bond feeling ragged and not quite complete, he would be able to track me.

The tugging of his beast was in my chest, along with the feeling of my wolf wanting to return to her mate.

Forcibly bonded or not, this was the nature of the connection.

The rapidly disappearing sun didn’t cast much light in the woods, and without my wolf’s active presence, I was left squinting into the semi-darkness.

Finley shifted directions constantly, bringing us deeper into the wooded area.

It was too sparse under here to hide properly, and with the trees thinning from winter, we would be easily spotted by a flying beast.

Beneath me, Finley was slowing, his gait rougher than it had been earlier. Just as I was about to suggest that I walk myself again, he took a sharp right turn and almost unseated me from my perch. He sniffed the air as he ran, and I panicked it was Talon.

Tilting my head back, there was no sign of anything in the darkening sky, and the tugging was no stronger than before. Finley picked up the pace, and I had to duck my head under some very low hanging branches as he barged into a new section of woodland.

Ahead of us, I spotted a rock wall that must have been part of those cliffs I’d seen before. Finley headed straight for them, still sniffing.

This couldn’t be about Talon’s presence.

He wasn’t running away from a scent—he was searching for it.

It took a few more minutes before a black spot on the wall came into view, stark against the white and gray of the rocks. That spot grew until eventually we met the entrance of a cave, which was so small I had to slide off the bear for us to fit.

Finley wouldn’t let me enter at first, sniffing thoroughly before he nudged me into the darkness.

Without my wolf, I was walking blind, so I murmured, “Just as an FYI, I can’t tell if I’m about to stumble into a hole or a rock wall.

My wolf’s hiding. She’s been like this pretty much since I was forcibly bonded, leaving my senses not much stronger than human. ”

His menacing growls at my back were so deep that my pulse raced in a natural fear response. Logically, I knew Finley wasn’t going to attack me, but that sound was guttural and terrifying.

Forcing my tone to remain even, I said, “Just—just tell me if I’m going to hit a wall. Tap me on the back with your nose or something.”

He grunted and nudged me in what I hoped was an acknowledgement.

As we walked, the pounding of my heart settled, and I kept my hands out in front as an added security. The walls were close on either side, forcing Finley to have to squish his way through, his hot breath and cherry-vanilla scent strong behind me.

When we’d been walking for what felt like five minutes, the oppressive feeling of the walls on either side of me lessened, and I caught wafts of fresh, cool air.

There were a few rays of natural light filtering in from fissures above, which turned this larger cavern into a landscape of shadows.

But it wouldn’t last much longer, as the sun was almost set.

When Finley nudged me, I stopped immediately, both hands still out in front. “Is there a wall?” I asked, and he nudged me again. Which meant… what? “Can you shift back now. I think we need to discuss our options before an angry dragon tears this cave apart.”

Instead of the whirl of shifter energy to suggest he was changing, all I got was another nudge. With a sigh, I said, “Okay, let’s say one nudge for yes and two for no. Do you want me to stop here?”

One nudge.

“Okay, is it because there’s a wall in front of me.”

Two nudges.

No wall. “Then you must think this is a good place to stop and regroup?”

One nudge.

Excellent. “But you don’t want to change back?”

Two nudges, which gave me a moment’s pause. This was followed by a less menacing rumble than before, which brought with it an odd thought. Unsure how he’d react to my next question, I hesitantly said, “Can you change back?”

Two nudges.

Oh, fuck. Finley had lost control of his bear, and the beast wasn’t about to loosen his hold.

He was stuck in his bear form.