Chapter 15

Orion

For five whole days, Scout travels through the wilderness, all alone—or so she thinks. Her eyesight and hearing are sharp, so I'm careful to stay well back, but I'm never more than a couple of minutes behind her.

But for my beast, those are two long minutes. Following Scout, not touching her, is agony for my beast. My animal is consumed with possessiveness and jealousy. It's ripping me up inside, howling in pain. This is the only time we'll ever be apart, but it doesn't understand that. It doesn't understand how I can bear to have her so far away from me. She's my mate. There's a tether connecting us, and the farther she is from me, the more my heart hurts.

I wonder if she feels it, too, and I hope she's not suffering.

Every time I catch sight of her slight figure, dressed in the same men's shorts and shirt she arrived in, I have to stop myself from catching her up and making her ride my beast's broad back instead. But I understand how important this mission is for her. She wants to prove to herself—as well as to her father—that she's capable of meeting the challenge. And I know she's gonna make it.

She's so brave, my girl. She keeps her bow handy, and her senses on high alert, but she's not afraid. There's no fear in the intoxicating scent that trails behind her.

Of course, she has no reason to be afraid. Sure, there are a bunch of shifters circling, but most of them know better than to approach a marked female. And the ones that didn't? Well, the bite of my canines was the last thing they ever felt in their miserable lives.

Every night Scout catches a rabbit and roasts it over a campfire with whatever else she's managed to forage. If I had my way, she'd be eating gourmet packed meals, but of course she insisted on going the whole nine yards and hunting all her food. I've just got to keep reminding myself that once this is over, she'll eat like a queen for the rest of her life.

Of course, I help her out as much as I can. If she leaves the campfire to go wash up in the evening, I keep it all built up for her. I catch rabbits and toss them right in her path. And when she's sleeping, curled up in her hammock, I watch over her all night long, making sure her sleeping bag stays tucked up under her chin.

Sometimes, when she finds a secluded spot by the river, she strips off and plunges in. This is the hardest bit for my beast. It darn near goes insane. There she is—my mate, beautiful and vulnerable, her delicious pale body exposed to the wilderness. She doesn't understand how closely she's being watched—and that's probably for the best.

I yearn to go in after her and take her in my arms, claim her once again. It's been too long since I tasted her sweet pussy, sunk my cock deep inside her.

Soon, I tell my beast, desperate to pacify it. It's getting harder to control by the day, more manic and jealous.

By the fifth day, I can see Scout's spirit is tiring. Her feet start to drag, catching on the undergrowth. She's bored of walking, and lonely too, I bet. My heart aches so bad for her.

Just after midday, I pick up a strong scent of humans—at least five of them. Scout starts walking faster and looking around like she recognizes her surroundings.

I fall farther back. Wouldn't put it past these crazy preppers to have rigged up a watchtower.

I hear Scout's fast, anxious breathing as she strides toward a beat-up-looking encampment. Then she stops dead.

Something's wrong.

A gust of wind blows in my direction, and a sickening smell fills my nostrils.