Page 22 of The Reluctant Mate (Shifters of the Three Rivers #5)

Chapter twenty-two

Sofia

I strained against the knots for the hundredth time, but Derek had tied them tight. Too tight. The damned rope dug into my wrists, rough and unyielding. My skin was raw underneath the rope, but I didn’t care. I was still too freaking angry. I could still taste his kiss on my lips, feel the crushing heat of his body. How could he do this to me, after everything? After…

I couldn’t think about that now. Shoving the memory aside, I thought about Shifting, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin, responding to my panic. But if I Shifted with my hands tied, there was a good chance I’d break both my wrists. No, I had to get out of this in human form. I looked around the room for anything that I could use. Bedside lamp? Nope. It was a modern design with a chrome-plated spiral stem and an LED light running the length of it. Glass of water, maybe? If I could reach it, I could break it and use the glass to cut through the binding. I strained against the rope as far as I could go, my shoulders screaming at me.

Just a little further.

My fingertips touched it, and the glass moved. Further away.

Damn it!

I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t. I shifted my weight onto my hip, trying to find a better position to reach the glass as a sharp pain stabbed into my hip. What the—? I awkwardly dug into my pocket and found the nail file I kept for the cash register.

“Freaking yes!”

I was going to kiss that bloody cash register when I got back! I angled the nail file awkwardly between my bound hands, struggling to flip it so the rough edge faced downward. My fingers, already tingling from restricted circulation, fumbled and nearly dropped the file.

Fuck!

No. This was going to work. It had to work. I began sawing—short, desperate jerks of my hands, using what little mobility I had in my wrists to work the file against the tight binding. My wrists burned where the rope had rubbed it raw, but the rough hemp fibers started to fray, each tiny snap feeling like a small victory.

The faint vibration of an engine thrummed low in the distance. I froze, my senses perking instantly. Did Derek forget something? If he came back now, he’d take the nail file and retie the rope.

Damn it.

But the engine noise was quieter, smoother than Derek’s. This one was different—lower, rougher. And there were more than one.

How likely was it that Jase had noticed I was gone and had brought the cavalry? Compared to, say, the guys who had Derek fucking Shaw spooked enough to kidnap me and high-tail it out of Three Rivers?

Panic clawed its way up my chest as tires crunched against the snow. I scraped the file frantically against the rope.

“Come on, come on!”

Engines turned off. Car doors slammed—one, two, three, four. My wolf’s hackles rose.

“Come on, come on, come on!” My breaths were coming short and shallow now. I had to get out of here. They could not find me trussed up like a gift-wrapped present.

Blood welled, then dripped from my wrists. The nail file bit deeper into the fibers as voices, low and controlled, drifted through the window.

“Perimeter clear.”

Another fiber split.

“Secure all entrances.”

The file was nicking my skin with each stroke, but there was no stopping. Blood mixed with sweat, the metallic tang filling my nostrils.

“Standby for breach.”

“Come the fuck on!” I hissed at the nail file, tears of frustration blurring my vision. The fraying strands of rope groaned louder under each stroke.

The steps outside the cabin creaked. One last swipe and the rope snapped.

Freedom.

The sound of the door being kicked open made my head jerk up.

Move , my wolf urged.

No shit.

I scrambled off the bed and ducked low, quieting my breath as I crept into the bathroom and shut the door gently. There was a small window to the right of the shower. The image of the tub of mint choc chip ice cream I’d eaten in one sitting last weekend flashed into my mind, and I glanced down at my hips.

Goddess, if I get out of this, I promise I’ll never eat ice cream again… Well, not a whole tub of it in one go, anyway.

Keeping as low as I could, I edged toward the window. I could hear breathing in the lounge. They would be in the bedroom in seconds. I grasped the window handle, testing it. Locked. Of course. My fingers, slick with blood and sweat, trembled as I fumbled with the latch.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” I muttered, giving the latch a vicious twist. It released with a soft snap.

The floorboards in the bedroom creaked. My head snapped toward the bathroom door. Shadowy shapes danced in the gap under the door.

I was out of time.

I shoved the window up, biting back a groan as it protested. Ice-cold wind drifted in, bringing snowflakes with it.

Fabulous. Now it was snowing.

I kicked off the edge of the sink to boost myself up, forcing myself through the open window. The frame scraped against my arms and thighs, and I bit my lip to stifle a curse. I dropped headfirst to the frozen ground, managing to twist at the last moment to land on all fours. The snow and wind chilled me instantly, cutting through Derek’s too-big shirt like it wasn’t even there.

My wolf urged me forward.

I flattened myself against the side of the cabin, pressed between the rough grain of the wood and a tall stack of firewood. I took a deep breath as I looked around. No one between me and the woods. Their scent was here, though—cold steel, adrenaline-spiked sweat, the acrid polish of gun oil. They didn’t smell of werewolf. Or bear. Only humans. A squad hunting its prey. That’s what I was to them: prey.

“East side!” shouted a voice from inside.

Crap, crap, crap. Move, Sofia.

I didn’t have time to make a plan. I pushed off the wall and sprinted toward the tree line.

My bare feet sank into the snow with every step, the cold biting at my soles, soaking the bottom of my jeans. Adrenaline drowned out everything but survival. The shadows of the forest loomed ahead, and although every instinct screamed to look behind me, I didn’t. They were back there, and they wouldn’t hesitate.

Derek’s words from earlier slipped through my mind: “You don’t know where you’re going; you’ll just go deeper into the forest. Take you days, weeks even to get to the other side… Plus, there’s a good chance the cold will kill you first.”

Well, guess what, Derek? You and your awesome plans left me no choice.

I heard another shout, then the whizz of a bullet race past me. The tree line was just ahead. I just needed to make it that far. I dug deep, running faster than I had ever run. Another bullet zinged past, this one thudding into a tree trunk to my left. The bark exploded, pieces whipping past my face. Then I was through, weaving between trees, putting as much distance between me and them as possible.