Page 3 of Found (Mate Rejected #8)

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AERIN

M y dad used to tell me Michigan was famous for two things: the Great Lakes, which I’d always wanted to see, and the Raleigh Pack slaughter, which is why I never wanted to visit.

Regular humans might view the place differently, but to a shifter, I feel a cold chill of foreboding to be in a place where so many shifters died.

And it seems like that is exactly where we are going.

Karson, a small town in Michigan, has been coming up with increasing regularity on highway turnings. Every time Shane has changed lanes, it’s been towards it. I can’t imagine why he would want to take me to a place where a pack literally tore itself apart, but it’s apparent that’s exactly where we’re headed.

I need the bathroom.

Again .

Because when Thumper isn’t kicking my insides with increasing regularity, she’s stamping on my bladder. I’ve kept quiet about those urges as much as I could. Asking Shane for anything is like pulling teeth, but this constant need to use the bathroom is something I can’t ignore for long as desperately as I wish it was.

“I need the bathroom,” I reluctantly say.

Instantly, he slows the car down and glances at me. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me what you need, Aerin.”

I say nothing. This change in Shane is one I don’t like and I’ve been trying hard to ignore.

He keeps acting like we’re on a romantic cross-country drive.

Like I want to be here with him.

Like he’s my mate, and he’s happy to bend over backward to give me everything I might need.

I could never forgive him after the way he treated me.

He pulls the car off the highway and stops at a gas station that is eerily familiar to the one in Winter Lake. He must have the same thoughts I have because as soon as he cuts the engine, he pulls the keys from the ignition and keeps a tight hold of them. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Is he remembering the way I flung his keys into a forest and sprinted away from him in Winter Lake? I know I am.

I open my door and it’s a struggle to get out. His car is a sports car, lower than Mack’s car, and my center of gravity is not what it used to be.

By the time I have one foot out, Shane is outside the passenger door, gripping my left arm and helping me the rest of the way.

I pull away immediately. “I don’t need help.”

An older woman beams as she slows, passing us from the gas station on the way to her car. “So nice to see a gentlemen these days. You and your wife have a nice day.”

I’d like to see her face if she knew Shane abused me for a year, tried to kill me and the man I love, and after setting my home on fire, has abducted me.

“I am not?—”

“Thank you,” Shane talks over me, his hand tightening on my arm in nothing less than a warning to shut up.

If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d risk causing a scene. The fear he would stuff me in the trunk of his car terrifies me, so I keep silent.

He smiles at the older woman and propels me toward the small public bathroom on the right side of the gas station shop. And just like he said, he releases me and leans against the wall right by the entrance, so even if I wanted to leave without him, I couldn’t.

He crosses his arms and peers into the distance. “Take your time. I’ll wait here.”

I walk in.

He can afford to be relaxed. We’re in Michigan. Miles and miles away from Winter Lake, and I have no cash to get myself back home, even if I escaped right now. I can’t shift and run back home as a wolf. I’m too far along in my pregnancy to be able to shift at all.

And my powers? Still missing in action.

I have no memory of leaving Winter Lake, but we must have been on the road for hours. After we left the cabin, we soon hit the highway, and we were closer to Michigan than I thought we would be.

He stopped at a drive-thru for breakfast. I refused that. And we’ve been on the road ever since. Now the sky is still bright, the day early, but the clock on his car dashcam said it was nearly midday.

Mack would have no clue where I am. All he’d know was what Helena told him: That Shane grabbed me.

How would he know I was in Michigan?

I’m ashamed to admit I practically run to the bathroom. That’s how badly I need to pee. Before I’ve fully even closed and locked my toilet stall, I’m yanking down my baggy linen pants, desperate to pee.

It feels so incredible I slump in relief.

When I’ve finished emptying my bladder, I flush the toilet and take my time washing my hands as I study my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I look terrible. Bags under my eyes, worn, exhausted, and I have a stain on my T-shirt, probably from the tea Adela made for me back in Winter Lake. I have eaten nothing since yesterday, and my stomach is making its needs known by growling at me.

Shane drove through a drive-thru, asked me what I wanted and when I didn’t respond or even look at him, he ordered two breakfast sandwiches for us. He handed me one, and I placed it in the center console and spent an hour ignoring the delicious smells wafting from it until Shane ate the sandwich himself.

I’m regretting that decision now because I might be able to go without eating for a while, but my baby needs food to be healthy.

If the rest room didn’t smell so bad, and I wasn’t conscious that Shane was waiting right outside, I’d take even longer in the bathroom than I do. But I can’t hide in this toilet forever, so I dry my hands and walk out.

Shane straightens as soon as I step outside. As if he suspects I’ll run, he grips my arm and steers me back to the car.

I pull my arm free. “I can walk on my own,” I say, not looking at him.

He doesn’t grab me again, but he does close the distance between us. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so ridiculous. I’m nearly seven months pregnant and he’s an alpha in his prime. Does he really think I’ll be able to run away from him?

To my irritation, he opens my car door for me, and since I can’t close it and open it myself, I get into the low seat with great difficulty, and before I can close the door, he closes it for me.

Like a gentleman.

He is not a gentleman.

“None of what you’re doing will change anything,” I say once he’s pulled away from the rest stop and we’re back on the highway.

“What am I doing?”

I glance at him. “Trying to make this situation out like it isn’t a kidnapping. Open doors for me, let me use the bathroom as much as I want, do all those little things, but it won’t change anything. I will still hate you.”

His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he slowly nods.

I haven’t asked about Bree, and frankly, I haven’t cared enough to bother. But things can’t be good if he’s here, looking like he hasn’t changed his shirt in a couple of days, and mixed up with the Raleighs.

There was another guy.

He smashed the den window and threw a lit cloth inside the room. I thought he would be with Shane, but Shane’s sports car is a two-seater only. He must have left in his own vehicle or with the wolves who melted into the forest after I think they attacked Chris and Zoe.

“You’re my mate,” he says.

“Correction. I was your mate,” I say tightly. “I rejected you months ago, and you went to have that happy, perfect life with Bree you always wanted. You even signed the divorce papers I sent to you. Remember?”

His dad had us registered married, though we never had a ceremony. Shifters don’t get married. We bite each other and tie ourselves to each other in other ways. But the marriage certificate tied me to Shane in another legal, physical way, and I thought his dad insisted on it because he knew I might run, and he wanted something tying me to his son that I couldn’t run from.

He flashes me a bright smile. “Well, it’s funny how things work out in the end. You wanted me before you met that other guy, and now here we are together again.”

I twist to face him, wincing when Thumper kicks me. “You’re not listening to me.”

He glances at me, eyes dipping when I place a hand on my belly. “Is he kicking?”

I lean away from him. “Why do you want to know?”

“He’s my son, Aerin.”

I will never know how I don’t punch him in the face for that. “You referred to my baby as it . You remember that? Because I do, and you don’t get to come back, kidnap me and suddenly act like you give a shit.”

“You don’t swear.” He sounds surprised.

“I didn’t before I met you. So I have you to thank for that.” I glare at him. “And you don’t even know it’s a boy.”

He’s still smiling as he pulls off the side of the main road. “I’ll prove myself to you Aerin. Things will be different. I promise.”

Before I can unload like I need to, something pulls my gaze from him.

We’re no longer on the highway.

We’re in Karson, Michigan.

Suddenly, I start paying more attention to where we are than to Shane.

As Shane pulls off the road and onto a well-trodden dusty clearing outside a pale wood farmhouse, I take in another building, a few feet away, made of a similar wood, in the midst of construction.

A group of men I don’t recognize turn from their construction to stare right at us. We’re still a few feet away, but I have my window down a bit. Their scent clues me in that we’re driving toward a pack of shifters.

The front door of the farmhouse swings open and a man wearing black jeans, a black T-shirt, and brown boots walks out.

He smiles when he sees us, pleased.

But I don’t recognize him.

“Who are these people?” I whisper. “Why did you bring me here?”

Shane stops the car and cuts the engine, then unbuckles his seatbelt as he looks at me. “Our fresh start, Aerin. This is where we do things right this time. You, me, and our son.”