Page 7

I couldn’t find my underwear. I’d been searching for at least twenty minutes because combing the grass for my discarded panties was a far better use of my time than staring at Ethan’s retreating back.

The problem was that the activity that had started off as a desperate attempt to distract me from the gut-wrenching feeling of being rejected by a mate I didn’t even want had become a fresh source of frustration all on its own.

It was supremely stupid to be tearing up because I’d lost my underwear, but it was less stupid than tearing up because of Ethan fucking Cain, so I let it happen.

That made the fourth thing I’d lost in this godforsaken field.

The first thing that had, of course, been my virginity.

Not how I’d imagined that going, but whatever.

The second thing was my mate, which was more concerning.

Did I want to spend my life with Ethan? No.

I despised him. I was not, however, stubborn enough to refuse what fate had clearly set out for me.

Which led me to the third thing I’d lost: my dignity.

Ethan had rejected me wholesale, and despite that, I’d still tried to make him see sense.

He must think I was desperate for him, the way I’d insisted that he accept our bond.

How was I supposed to face him in the morning, after all that?

I’d need to have underwear on, for starters, but mine was currently lost in the dark grass somewhere between here and the bonfire.

I was pretty certain my dress had come off first, and Ethan had found that pretty fast, so theoretically, they should be close by, but current evidence had proven that this was untrue.

Had a gust of wind blown them further away?

Had some critter picked them up and scampered away with them?

Would some random Ferris shifter find them in the days to come and wonder what careless female they belonged to?

Why had I even let it happen? I knew the pull of the bond was strong, but it wasn’t strong enough to force me to do anything I really didn’t want to do.

In that moment, I wanted it, and that was the worst part.

For a stupid, thoughtless hour, I’d allowed my seventeen-year-old self to take over, the one who’d thought Ethan was so handsome and honorable and found his utterly humorless demeanor mysterious and charming.

I should have known better. Of course, he didn’t want me: I was only a burden.

Well, I wasn’t going to be a burden to him any longer.

I wouldn’t eat his food or sleep under his roof.

I was going home, underwear be damned. I brushed the tears from my face, tugging my dress down in an effort that was as pointless as it was fruitless.

No one was going to see me wandering across the Ferris Bridge in the middle of the night.

I briefly considered shifting: I’d get there in less than half the time, and I wouldn’t be worried about flashing anyone I might meet on the road.

I was not, however, going to carry this dress in my mouth.

It was made of light, delicate, pretty material that had to be shipped over from the mainland.

My bag was still in the back of Ethan’s truck, and I was not about to risk bumping into him to go retrieve it.

Perhaps it was a stupid decision (it was definitely a stupid decision, and my wolf growled with every step I took), but I was stubborn and angry enough to do it.

I was going to walk back to Lapine, barefoot in my party dress in the dark.

At least it wouldn’t be dark for long; I guessed it was about two in the morning, which meant I only had two hours or so before the sun rose.

I’d watch it from the bridge. That would be nice.

I could still hear the occasional burst of laughter and the clink of bottles being collected from the remnants of the party, and in a saner world, I would be there, too.

Xander would probably have us all competing to see who could get a bottle into the trash can from furthest away, and we’d tumble exhausted into bed, ready for a late morning and a sizable breakfast. That wasn’t the world we lived in, though.

In this world, Ethan was my mate, and he didn’t want me, and I was slipping away in the dead of night out of sheer humiliation.

Ethan was my mate. The thought looped endlessly in my head, drowning out every other thought.

That asshole really managed to ruin everything he touched.

Hell, I’d discovered I had magic this evening, yet all I could think about was how his rejection made me feel like I was going to throw up my own heart.

I had magic, and here I was, fixated on some full-of-himself Alpha who wasn’t worth my time even on his best day.

As I walked, I tried to remember how it had felt to watch that single strip of shadow bend itself to my will: the joy, the excitement.

What would Alyssa say when I told her? What about Caleb?

I had so many questions, and I managed to distract myself well enough with them for an hour or so.

I imagined Alyssa’s excitement and playing shadow games with the twins.

I thought of other islands I could visit or witches I might meet who shared my powers—would they have a blind eye like me?

By the time the bridge came into sight, I was almost in a good mood. Almost. Sure, my feet hurt and I was tired as all hell, and I was desperately trying not to think about why I was sore between my legs, but I had magic. I wasn’t an omen or a burden. I was a witch.

I was a witch, and witches didn’t need anyone.

They were wanderers, nomads. They made their home on any island that would have them for a few months, and then they were off on the open road again.

Sure, the thought of having no home, of leaving my family behind, might make my stomach twist, but I was sure I’d get used to it.

I’d be completely independent—not even Ethan could claim I wasn’t.

Shit. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Ethan. I was thinking about my glorious, independent future. I was watching the sunrise from the bridge.

The bridge between Ferris and Lapine was a fairly new one, built from a combination of strong Lapine stone and ropes of Ferris steel.

Caleb had explained to me once how it didn’t need arches beneath the bridge to support it because the structure was held up by nets of steel rope attached to a tower at each end.

I may not understand the physics of it, but I could appreciate the beauty of the thing, and by the time I sat down in the middle of it, the sun was already peeking over the horizon, lighting the sky in pink and purple.

In the weak dawn light, shadows were beginning to form.

The bridge was striped with them, and I held out my hand to try to catch one of the dark lines.

After a few fruitless attempts, I sat back and closed my eyes, the world slipping from pink-tinged light to utter darkness.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear my mind, pushing all other thoughts away.

Nothing mattered now—not Ethan, not half-formed plans for my future—nothing but me and the shadows.

They came to me slowly, the darkness behind my closed eyes seeming to separate into shadows and space.

I could see the elongated shape of the bridge, the shadows of steel ropes fanning out like the strings of a huge instrument.

I wondered if I could pluck them. Would they make a sound, like the strings on a guitar? There was only one way to find out.

Reaching out into the void, I let the tip of one finger come to rest on the shadow of a single string.

I could feel the coolness of it, and I couldn’t tell if it was real or a phantom feeling caused by my magic.

It didn’t matter. Breathing out, slow and controlled, I crooked my finger, pulling at the shadow.

To my delight, it bent beneath my touch, springing back into place as I released my hold.

I let out a joyful huff of laughter. As little as I wanted to admit it, I had been a little afraid I would never be able to replicate the magic I had done by the campfire.

I tried again, this time allowing my fingers to skip from one string to another, plucking one, then two, and watching them bend and snap back into place.

Again and again, I plucked those strings, as captivated as a child with a new toy.

So captivated, in fact, that I didn’t notice the sound of someone approaching.

“Hey!” The shout came from somewhere behind me.

A male voice, unfamiliar and harsh, broke my concentration as I scrambled to my feet, hoping that the movement didn’t give away my pantyless state.

Shifters might not be precious about nudity, but there was a difference between seeing each other naked pre—or post-shift, and a lone female hanging out with no underwear beneath her short skirt.

“Hi,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too breathless as a pair of figures approached.

Both were male, both built like Betas—I recognized neither of them, and my guard went up.

Standards varied across the archipelago, but many islands considered an unaccompanied female to be fair game.

Hopefully, I still had enough of Ethan’s Alpha scent on me to put them off.

“You come from the party?” One of them asked. His speech was slightly slurred, which was either a point in my favor or a point against me. A drunk male might have fewer inhibitions, be pushier and more aggressive, but he was also slower and less coordinated.

“Yeah,” I replied, pretending nonchalance. “You know this is the Lapine Bridge, right?”

The first guy’s eyes widened, but his smile was sharp as he exclaimed,

“Oh shit, really? Hey, Gary, this is the Lapine Bridge, idiot!” He shoved his companion, Gary, who only mumbled something about having gone east out of town.

“How drunk are you guys?” I asked.

“Not too drunk to know a pretty girl when we see one,” said the first guy, and I knew I was in trouble.

“Well, this pretty girl is going home,” I said. “Hope you guys find your way.” I gave them a half-hearted wave, but Gary lurched forward—way too fast for a guy who had seemed completely out of it ten seconds ago—and grabbed me by the wrist.

“No, don’t leave. We’re lost. We need help.

” He was way too close to me, but there was no alcohol masking the rancid stink of his breath.

I had to get out of here, but I couldn’t run—they’d only chase me, and I wasn’t certain I could win that race.

I smiled, keeping my voice as sweet as honey as I said,

“You’re big boys. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Wrenching my wrist from his grip, I turned to leave, but I hadn’t even taken a step before I stopped in my tracks.

A third man stood in front of me, his smile yellowed and threatening.

He was older than the other two and not even attempting to pretend he’d been at the Solstice party.

He was dressed only in dirty sweatpants, with no shirt to hide the multitude of scars decorating his chest and face.

I pretended not to notice, rolling my eyes.

“Really funny, guys,” I said. “I’m going home.” This time, I made it a couple of steps before the newcomer moved to block my path again.

“Not before you tell me about that neat little trick you were doing,” he growled, his voice deep and rough. My heart gave a terrified leap behind my ribcage.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Please—”

“Your little trick with the shadows. That’s a rare kind of witchcraft.”

He was still pretending at affability, but he couldn’t hide his disgust as his mouth rounded out the final word. Suddenly, I knew exactly what Pack these males were from. My blood ran cold, but I excelled at nothing if not pretending to be unbothered.

“I’m not a witch,” I laughed, looking over my shoulder to address the first two men. “Hey, fellas. Take your friend home, will you? He’s so drunk he can’t see straight.”

That was a mistake. The moment my eye was off him, the third male grabbed me around the waist, pinning my arms to my sides.

I thrashed wildly in his grip, but his arms were like iron bars around me.

Throwing my head back, I felt the back of my skull make contact with his nose, and something hot dripped onto the back of my neck.

Despite the fact that I’d likely broken his nose, he only tightened his grip on me, and I gasped as the breath was driven out of me.

I was completely trapped, and the other males were closing in.

“Careful, man,” Gary was saying. “Alpha doesn’t want the goods marked.”

“Then hurry the fuck up and knock her out—she’s like a feral fucking cat.”

That was when I saw the first guy pull out a bottle and a dirty rag.

Shaking something from the bottle onto the cloth, he advanced toward me, and I kicked out hard with my legs.

He dodged my flying feet, but then someone was grabbing my legs from my blind side, holding them together at the thigh.

I cringed at the feeling of his hands on my bare skin, but that was the least of my worries.

As I took a deep breath, ready to scream, the rag came down over my nose and mouth, and there was an awful, chemical smell, and everything went black.