Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
My stomach turns, and it feels like I can’t breathe as I follow him over to the door.
Khalil opens the door and twists to block me from the onslaught of the storm that is only getting worse. It matches the one inside my heart telling me that something was very fucking wrong. “Stay here, and I swear to fucking God, Aurelia. Do not leave this cabin. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He’s gone before I can plead with him one more time to let me come. The wind slams the front door shut behind him, and I jump. Alone, I pace for a little while, then I blindly grab the first book my fingers touch before I go up to my loft. I’m much too restless to sleep, and I don’t see that changing even once they’re all back. Like Khalil said, it’s my night with Thorin, and even when exhausted, he’s too light a sleeper to slumber peacefully if I’m awake, so the loft it is.
Ignoring the book in my lap, I watch the door, but I can’t see shit beyond the loft except for the spots in the cabin where the pale light of the moon stretches through the open windows.
Outside, the thunderstorm continues to rage on, growing in strength and temperament. The wind howls, rain falls in sheets, thunder rolls, and lightning flashes. Usually, I’m unfazed by it all, but my boyfriends and their best friend are out there. I sit with my back to the cool pane of the window behind me and try to convince myself that they’re okay. They’ve survived worse, and they’ve survived it without me.
I tell myself it will be easier if I sleep, that when I wake up, they’ll be back and safe in their beds and all will be well. But midnight comes and goes, and another hour ticks by with no sign of sleep or them.
If Khalil were here, I’d wake him up and he’d fuck me right to sleep without a word. But he’s not here, and I’m done waiting.
I tried calling him on the radio a few times, but the heavy rain must be blocking the signal because he doesn’t answer. I crawl toward the edge of the loft and the ladder Khalil built for me, and I slowly descend until my bare feet are planted in the soft fur of the rug that was once Bruce—the bear that mauled Thorin years ago.
I run down to the basement and get dressed, but I don’t really have any gear that will protect me from the rain, so I pull on some shorts and my all-weather boots before finding Zeke’s poncho and pulling that on. Once I’m dressed, I sling my bow over my shoulder and then grab my quiver, arrows, the dart gun, and a flashlight.
I leave the fucking radio since it’s useless in this storm.
I throw open the door but stop on the threshold as I take in the endless darkness that awaits me beyond. The trees sway and taunt like a haunting silhouette, and all I can think is that my guys are somewhere in there, so I step out into the storm and I don’t look back.
My body grows heavy, and my lashes become weighed down from the torrential rain, making it hard to see as I jog across the clearing. When I reach the tree line and the worn path the guys usually take, I stop and turn on the flashlight to study the ground as I try to remember everything Thorin taught me about tracking. I haven’t had much practice, but luckily because of the rain, I don’t need it.
The clear impressions of three sets of large boot prints are my breadcrumb trail, so I follow the story they tell. Deeper inside the forest, I find a body impression where it looks like someone fell. Beyond that, I come across crushed grass and follow it to the elevated bank of a rising river. I use my flashlight to search the churning water just in case.
It’s blessedly empty.
“Zeke…Khalil…Thorin!” I start to turn away when I spot something black and familiar clinging to the sidewall on the other side of the riverbed.
It’s Zeke’s graphic T-shirt of Bound—his favorite band—caught between some rocks just above the water.
I don’t think twice before jumping over the slippery slope and down into the river. It’s a struggle to cross against the natural flow of the water, but eventually, I reach the other side and when I pan the flashlight over the rocks, I don’t just see Zeke’s shirt.
I see blood. Oh God. So much blood. It’s splattered on the side of the rocks hidden from the rain and rising water like a fucking crime scene. My throat burns with bile as I search for more clues with only the small beam of light to guide me in the dark.