They’d have some kind of video to upload. One without me. Because I was either not pretty enough, or they didn’t think I’d be around long enough to want to have me recorded for online posterity. I got it. No problem. They should go and do what they needed to. It was their business, after all. But since I was neither five nor a hundred and five, I would not be wasting my afternoon taking a nap.
Peeking through the lace window curtains of my vintage trailer, I watched the bears until they disappeared in the distance. They had such an active walk, almost a bounce in every step, and I wanted more than anything to run after them and beg them to take me along.
But they hadn’t invited me, and with all the nice things they were doing, I would respect their decision. That said, I couldn’t think of a reason why I couldn’t go off and have an adventure of my own. I’d lived under the thumb of pack leadership my entire life, and my purpose for coming here to meet these males wasn’t to be an obedient mate.
If we worked out and were the right people for one another, it would have to be under equal terms. Did it occur to them that after they deposited me at my door with instructions to nap—that I’d never agreed to do so?
Bustling around the trailer, I emptied my backpack on the bed and replaced the contents with bottled water and snacks and other useful items they’d stocked in the trailer for me. They’d told me to help myself to anything I wanted, so I only felt a little guilty as I zipped the pack and started off to a different trailhead from the one the bears had taken. No way I’d have caught up with them anyway, but I might have accidentally met them on the way back, and I wasn’t sure how they’d feel about my venturing out on my own. Wearing shorts and a tank top, I stuffed a light hoodie into the pack as well in case the afternoon grew cool. I’d just take a short hike and be back long before sundown. A couple of hours, max.
I had a long way to go to feel fully independent, with or without mates.
The trail was well marked, at first, wide and even, but once I crossed a bridge over a small pond, it narrowed, became less traveled. Narrower. And unlike the morning’s trail, it climbed. Then descended into a valley then climbed again. After about an hour, I questioned my life’s choices because I lost track of the path completely. And, as Judah had said, my phone had no connectivity. I should have left a note at least. They wouldn’t even know where to look for me.
I’d made a real mess of everything.
Chapter Twelve
Saber
The hike up the mountain was strenuous, even for us. We’d hiked many times, and Judah even learned mountain climbing years ago. The only placed he practiced when we were back home was on the gym climbing wall now.
The entire way was silent. We had nothing to say, but my brain had plenty of things to think about.
Something was going on with Posy and, despite knowing that she was our mate, I had a sneaking suspicion that the root of her issue was us. Maybe me.
By the time we got back to the campsite, our shirts were heavy with sweat and we’d drained our water bottles dry.
I hoped she got some rest.
“Should we go check on her?” Judah asked. He was the most bothered by all of this. The most hesitant in wanting to join the app was now the most ardent about Posy.
I wished I could say the same for her.
“I’m gonna knock.”
I did. And knocked again. Finally, I opened the door and called out for her, but there was no answer.
“Where is she?” Aldrin asked, stepping into the trailer. The bed was unrumpled. Either she rested and then smoothed everything again, or she never took a nap in the first place.
My heart rammed against my sternum.
Did she leave us? So disenchanted, she ghosted us the minute we turned our backs?
Fuck!
“Maybe she got hungry.” Judah was next. Her scent had faded. She’d been gone for a while.
“Hungry?” I scoffed. “We put enough snacks and food in here for a decade. I don’t think she left, at least not permanently. Her backpack is gone, but some of her clothes are still here.”
Aldrin exited the trailer, and we followed. “Okay. Let’s ask around. Maybe someone has seen—”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “What if she went to the spa? There’s a hot tub and a sauna. Those kinds of things. I left a brochure in her trailer.”
We decided to look there first, but she wasn’t there and no one had seen her. We also checked the gift shop and the regular tourist place, but she was nowhere to be found.
Calling her phone got us nothing but her voicemail.
What kind of bear loses their mate?
