Page 44 of Shifter Situations

I had enough shit on my plate to keep me busy.

Since I wasn’t in the mood for confrontation, I stepped back into the Void and took myself to the clearing in front of the cabins. I’d start from there and seek my guys out to continue this game of tag.

I popped out of the Void, immediately gearing up to run, and bumped into a hard chest. Baylor caught me by my shoulders as I stumbled backward from the force of our collision.

I gasped, thinking it was Briggs before my eyes really focused.

He glanced around with shrewd, calculating eyes and rumbled, “Why are you running, and who are you running from? Where is Briggs, your mates? Is everything okay?”

“I’m, uhm, running from my mates.” I grinned at him. “Nothing to worry about, but thank you for your concern.”

He shook his head, his blonde hair flying loose from the band holding it up. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Because it’s a nice thing to say?”

“No. Why are you running from them?”

“Oh. I’m playing the prey.”

“Is that, like… Some kind of fetish you have? No, wait. Please don’t answer that.” He scratched his brow as he stared at me in disbelief and then snapped his head to the left.

“I gotta go,” I whispered, taking off yet again with no real goal in mind except for running them in circles.

Quite frankly, I was just about ready to be caught.

I traipsed through the forest, wondering if I should start waving my white flag, when I spotted a wide, ancient oak tree with low hanging limbs. The branches stuck out at odd angles, curving and warping around each other.

Something about this tree felt different. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to rub my fingers along the bark and leaves. Life coursed through it, and I wished that I understood York’s druid power a little more so I could really feel what was going on within it.

As I pondered how to manipulate the illness in one of the limbs, a light crunching sound let me know that someone had found me. A calming presence washed over me, and I knew it belonged to my fae.

Vaughn appeared from the opposite side of the tree, wrapping his large hands around my waist from behind. He tucked his face into my hair before he spluttered, spitting strands out.

I giggled, playfully fighting against his hold, and we ended up tumbling to the ground. He rolled on top of me, grinning as he gazed down at me.

“I’ve caught you,” he murmured, his almost English accent sultry and low.

“And how are you planning on getting me back to the cabin?”

“That’s just a matter of misting you there.”

His face was inches from mine, leaning closer as he spoke. I lifted up like I was going to kiss him, and then I misted away.

I landed in his bed in the cabin, leaves and twigs stuck to my clothes. And there I waited, kind of hoping he would show up soon.

I also snorted at the fact that I brought myself back to the cabin.

That was dumb of me.

I knew that there wasn’t really a way for me to win, and I didn't want to choose. It was blowing my mind that they weren’t using the tracking marks to hunt me down, though. If they thought about it, they could have found me within seconds.

I jumped up, grabbed one of Vaughn’s shirts, and headed into his bathroom to take a shower. When I got out, I went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and then sat in the living room with one of Palmer’s books in my hand.

A silent twenty minutes passed before anyone came to the cabin. I’d just gotten to the third chapter of a book about soucouyants—and the many legends surrounding them—when I heard footsteps on the porch.

Stone and Vaughn walked through the front door, frustrated and fussing at each other.

“I don't know why she would come back here,” Vaughn argued.