If she waves, they’ll see her. If they see her, they’ll land. If they land, I go back into someone else’s custody, and every fragile piece of myself I found in this cabin gets handed over with the incident report.
“If I go out there,” she says, following the same path in her own mind, “they’ll see me. They’ll land. They’ll take us both back to Aurora Headquarters.”
“That’s where we were going?” I ask.
She nods. “Brenna, our alpha, thought they were better equipped to…handle you.”
I don’t respond to that. I know what it means.
The rotors pass closer. The window rattles softly in its frame.
My hands stay at my sides. My wolf is still, waiting for her choice.
“If I stay in here,” she says, “they’ll sweep past. This place is well hidden.”
The room seems to hold its breath with us.
She looks at me, and whatever she sees makes her face settle.
“I’m staying with you,” she says.
Then she pulls the door shut.
I shake my head. “You should go back. It would be better.”
“For who? Not you.” She puts her hand on my arm, and something warm moves inside me. “I’m not taking you to another place to be locked up, Rafael. I won’t.”
“I’ll go into the mountains.”
“No. There’s no way I’m leaving you out there alone.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“No, you won’t.” Her hands move to her hips. “You don’t even know where you are! How would you survive out here?”
“My wolf—”
She stops me. “Your wolf is half the reason you’re in trouble.”
“He’s the reason I’m alive.”
“I understand that. But he’ll be the reason they keep hunting you if I leave you to fend for yourself. Nope.” She shakes her head. “I’m staying with you. I’ve been taking care of you for weeks. I’m not stopping now.”
I exhale slowly. “All right.” I don’t like the idea of dragging her into my mess, but the relief I feel right now is unexpected.
She glances up as the helicopter passes overhead. The shadow of it flickers across the floor through the broken window. The sound peaks, loud enough to vibrate the floorboards, and then fades, moving north, moving past.
She stands with her back to the closed door and her hands flat against the wood. Her breathing is fast. Her jaw is tight.
“They’re gone. But I’m pretty sure they’ll circle back.”
“Yes,” I say.
She frowns down at the floorboards, lips pinched.
“Okay,” she says, as if coming to some fresh conclusion. “Okay. Here’s what we’re doing.”
She pushes off the door. Her hands are moving, pulling on her clothes, shirt first, jacket over it, while she talks.
