Page 11 of Found (Mate Rejected #8)

11

AERIN

I lay quietly on my side, waiting for Shane to fall asleep.

After the intimidating meal with the Raleighs in the dining room, we returned to our room and got into bed. With only one bed and hardwood floor to choose from, Shane snapped at me to stop being stupid and get into the bed when I hesitated, reminding me of how he’d treated me before.

That’s the Shane I’m used to. Not the one who cared.

His soft snoring fills the room. It’s even and steady, signs he’s sleeping deeply, but I wait for another five minutes, just to be sure he’s deep, deep asleep, before I lift the cover and slide out from under the sheets.

I move slowly, carefully placing one foot on the floor, then the other, trying not to make the tiniest sound.

There was no way I was going to sleep in one of Shane’s T-shirts when he offered. I refused and got under the sheets fully dressed.

I’d closed my eyes, held my breath, and waited to see what he would do.

He hadn’t tried to touch me.

All he’d done was get into the other side of the bed—I’d known when the mattress springs had squeaked—and shifted around for a bit.

I hadn’t expected to fall asleep.

I’d known I would wait for him to fall asleep then get up, return to the same room where the omegas were, and get us all out of here.

But the last twenty-four hours must have exhausted me more than I’d realized.

I have no clue what time it is. Just that moonlight is spilling in from the thin curtains covering the balcony window, and it’s night.

I tiptoe to the door, which creeping and sneaking while six months pregnant is not easy.

Especially when, inches away, Shane is snoring.

Slowly, I curl my fingers around the door handle, holding my breath as I turn it and pull.

As I pull the door the rest of the way open and place one foot into the dark, quiet hallway, a door creaks open and I instantly yank my foot back inside and close the door.

I stand there, straining to listen. Still with my hand gripping the handle, waiting for whoever is out there to go away.

Someone coughs in the hallway. Not close to my door, but they might still hear me if I leave now.

Behind me, Shane continues to snore, but that could change any moment.

I’m frozen by indecision.

What do I do?

Risk running into whoever that was in the hallway or do I go out through the balcony window?

More coughing sounds from the hallway and I mentally curse whoever it is because they are showing no sign of returning to their room or going away.

I give it another thirty seconds. When another cough comes, I close the door and twist around to look at the balcony window.

I didn’t want to leave without the omegas, but I might have to.

My eyes settle briefly on the still sleeping Shane. He’s on his back, sheets revealing he’s bare-chested. I hope he’s wearing shorts or something and that he did not get into bed naked beside me. I know I’ve done nothing wrong, but it would make me feel like I’d wronged Mack in some way. There’s only a lamp on the bedside table, and at no point since we’ve arrived here have I seen him with a cell phone.

One call and Mack would know exactly where to find me.

I’m tiptoeing to the dresser where he tossed his jeans to see if I can rifle through his pockets when he stops snoring.

I freeze.

After two terrifyingly anxious seconds, he starts snoring again and I continue to his pants.

Two quick pats reveal nothing big or heavy enough to be a phone. Nothing even jingles, so he’s either hiding his car keys from me or has them hidden somewhere else. I’m not surprised about that after I flung his keys into the forest in Winter Lake.

I continue creeping to the balcony window, wishing I didn’t have to leave the omegas behind, but I might have to. If that person is still in the hallway… No. I can’t risk running into them.

I peer over my shoulder as I slide open the balcony door, hoping I won’t wake Shane. I’ve already lingered here far longer than I should have.

The mechanism in the lock makes the softest metallic clink as the lock releases, but is buttery smooth as it swings open.

I release a quiet sigh and squeeze myself through the gap in the door, trying not to open it more than I need to. One gust of wind, a chill in the air and Shane will wake wondering where it’s coming from.

I close the door behind me, peer through the glass one last time to double check Shane is still snoring. And he is. Still fast asleep. I turn back to the balcony railing, then I look at my belly and I really wish I was a little less pregnant or the railing was a little lower because I know I’m about to make a fool of myself.

It’s the ground floor, which is about the only thing I have to be grateful for, but this will not be easy.

“There’s nothing for it, Aerin,” I breathe as I seize the railing with one hand and throw my leg over.

My belly instantly gets in the way.

That won’t work.

I put my leg to the ground and study the railing again, but I can only think of one way I can get over it.

Standing on the tips of my toes, I turn my back to it, grip the bar with both hands and lift myself up so I’m sitting on top of it.

And I do something utterly stupid. I let myself fall back, bracing myself for the fall but still strangling my yelp when my back thumps to the ground, knocking the wind out of me.

After giving myself a minute to recover, I roll onto my side, then up to my knees before I stand up. Shifting isn’t an option. I’m too far along with my pregnancy for that, so I fast walk toward the forest with no real idea where I’m going or how far I’ll have to run until I reach a main road.

I’ve been fast walking for five minutes, covering my mouth with one hand to muffle my panting breaths as I press my fingers into a stitch on my side when all the hair on the back of my neck rises.

Instantly, I halt.

There’s just me, the moonlight, and trees all around me, but every internal alarm is screaming at me that I’m no longer alone.

I stare in the distance and there’s not even the slightest sign of the main road. Just an endless line of trees I would have to pass and my time just ran out.

“When did you know I’d run?” I ask.

“The second you fell off your balcony,” Franklin responds.

I turn around.

Fear is sometimes an incredible motivator. Not that it will help me now. It also has the ability to chase away the pain from my stitch, and slow what had been increasingly heavy panting breaths.

Franklin stands a couple of feet away, and briefly, I wonder if he was the one in the hallway coughing so I couldn’t escape that way.

He walks toward me, hands tucked into his pockets, smiling slightly as he approaches.

“Why did you let me get this far?” I ask, standing tall, trying not to show him my fear.

“I was curious about what you would do. Save yourself? Go after the other omegas who one of my men saw you talking with before.”

And now suddenly something else becomes painfully clear. “You let me think I was alone so I would go and speak to them, didn’t you?”

“I had Shane step aside.”

“Why?”

His smile grows as he closes the distance between us. “Because I wanted to know if you would tell them anything interesting or if there was any information I might need to know.”

“And did I?”

He comes to a stop a foot away from me. “No. Nothing I didn’t already know.”

He pulls his hands from his pockets and stretches a hand to my face.

I’m leaning away from his touch when suddenly Shane is there, inserting himself between us.

“You don’t have to hurt her,” Shane says, out of breath, like he ran all this way.

Shane must have dressed in a hurry for him to be so disheveled. He didn’t even stop to put on his shoes before he came after me. I didn’t put shoes on either, but I left mine back in Winter Lake when he kidnapped me.

“You said you were going to keep an eye on her, Shane.” Franklin smiles as Shane presses me back with one hand on my belly.

“Yes, and I will. You don’t?—”

I flinch when something hot splashes my right cheek. I’m lifting my hand to swipe the moisture away when Shane collapses at my feet.

Then I see Franklin’s left hand, which he had been holding low by his side, is no longer a hand. It’s a claw.

Blood drips from the tips of those claws, and slowly, reluctantly, already knowing what I will see and wishing I didn’t have to look, my eyes settle on Shane.

He’s on his back, one hand lifted as if to stem the blood pumping from the wound on his throat.

I swallow hard, choking down the bile that threatens to erupt.

Shifters are not easy to kill.

But we can die.

A wound that deep…

Shane is staring at me, skin bleached white from severe blood loss, more blood sliding from the corner of his lips.

He’s trying to say something, lips moving.

I never know what it was he was trying to say.

His hand thumps to the ground and his eyes glaze over.

I never thought I would be anything but happy to never see him again. He hurt me so much that I thought I wouldn’t care the least if someone were to tell me he had died.

But this…

The back of my eyelids prickle.

Unexpectedly, this hurts.

Franklin clears his throat and I jump, my eyes flying to him.

“You’re here for one reason, Aerin. Just one. That —” He points his bloody claws at Shane, “—is the only warning you’re going to get. Back to your room. Now .”

I duck past him, hurrying back toward the house, peering over my shoulder, shaking with fear that he will kill me anyway.

But he lets me go.

I’m shaking all over by the time I’ve rushed inside the house. The hallway is still dark and I don’t see a single person as I half-run, half-walk back to my room.

Even after I’ve slammed the door shut and it’s just me, I never stop being afraid.

Eye glued to the dark wood, and still trembling, I back up until my thighs hits the edge of the bed and I suddenly lose all strength in my legs.

I thump heavily onto the side of the bed and I sit there, staring at the door.