Rejected And Claimed By Her Trio Alpha Mates

chapter 24

I open my eyes to the blaze of half a dozen still-burning light bulbs, plus a hint of golden sunlight pouring through the c***k in the curtains. I blink at the overwhelming illumination coupled with my grogginess.

Sleep eluded me most of the night after the ordeal. I jerked awake at every small noise, from barking dogs to slamming doors to my neighbors’ television coming on at five a.m. Every time I opened my eyes, I expected to find Blondie standing over my bed, or to see a new shadow monster hovering over me, about to pounce.

On any other day, I’d grumble and complain at the bright lights, slam the pillow over my head, and go back to sleep for a little while longer, until my irritable attitude chills the f**k out. But I’m not really interested in the dark right now, considering that’s where shadows sleep. Nor do I have time to waste lying around in bed while Kian and Blondie’s scent markers grow even colder.

Last night feels like a strange dream. Rolling over onto my back, I glance at the corner of the room where my mate stood to watch me, looking like he belonged in the shadows. Then I look up to see the knife gouges in the headboard—a stark reminder that it wasn’t a dream at all.

I hold up my injured wrist and peel off the bandage, sucking in a breath when some of the fresh, healed skin comes off with the gauze. The skin beneath is still pink bordering on red, but the worst of the burns have healed, minus a wicked blister near my wrist bone. I clench my fist twice, testing my pain tolerance, and grin when the skin barely tugs.

Nobody can argue the perks of being a shifter.

Shoving aside the covers, I stand and stretch, then head for the bathroom to brush my hair and get ready for the day.

My goal today is to find my mates. I’m not naïve enough to think Kian’s presence and Blondie’s sudden appearance in my room are unrelated. I have no clue how Blondie knew where I was sleeping, but it’s no coincidence Kian showed up in Oscura, and my second mate showed up with him. The only logical answer is they know each other. The even better hypothesis is they’re traveling together.

Find one, find both, maybe even find my third mate.

Kill them all.

I brew a shitty mug of cheap, off-brand Keurig coffee while I dress in a tight black tank top and my only remaining pair of jeans. Then I inhale two granola bars and wash them down with the watery brew. The idea of hitting the run down McDonald’s for an Egg McMuffin is enticing, but I don’t have the time to waste or the patience to waste it. There’s no telling how far Kian and his buddies got while I slept.

Unfortunately, my boots didn’t survive my run-in with Kian, so I have to opt for the flats. Not the best tracking footwear, but there isn’t miraculously a shoe store nearby as far as I know. I’ll have to worry about replacements later.

Making sure my room is locked up tight, I hop on my bike and zoom across the busy, early morning intersection, then down the side highway that passes Joe’s Bar and Grill. The shopping center is fairly empty this morning, only a few patrons at the Big Lots and a line of cars wrapped around both fast food joints. Just another day in small town America.

Hopefully my day will be a little less mundane. Some rigorous exercise, some bloodshed, some saving the world...

I bypass the lot and head for my first destination—the place in the woods where Kian’s bike lay after our fight. My hope is that maybe he returned for it overnight, and I’ll be able to pick up a new scent, maybe track him to where he’s holed up.

In the light of morning beneath a pale blue sky before the New Mexico heat rolls in, I feel a bit more solid. More ready for what’s going to come next. It’s baffling to think that after three years on the road, eating cheap bar food and picking up odd jobs to keep my cash flow incoming, I’m finally close.

I roar down the highway on my bike, the wind caressing my bare arms and the sun burning away some of the anxiety I’m still carrying from the night. What the hell was that shadow thing? And why was it in my room? Why was Blondie in my room?

Exactly how close did I come to death last night?

I retrace my steps from my pursuit with Kian, then find the skid marks in the dirt where we went off-roading. My smaller bike navigates the terrain well, though I go slower this time so the trees won’t slice me to ribbons. The cut on my cheek still hasn’t healed all the way up, and I’d rather not add more and make myself look like Edward Scissorhands’ little sister.

Kian’s bike is still in the same place.

I idle a few feet away from the fallen Harley, chewing on my lower lip. I don’t smell him, just the barest traces of his scent leftover from yesterday evening. Nothing fresh to indicate he’s returned. Plus, his bike hasn’t moved at all—not even an inch to indicate he at least tried to get it.

Damn. I kinda wanted him to come back and see what I did to his precious motorcycle. Like a “f**k you” for running.

Both times.

I turn around and stalk out of the woods back toward town, but whip off the road onto the open plains before I reach the shopping center.

My bike takes me past the low shrubs and burning sunshine of the desert plain to another section of thick evergreen forest that backs up to the center. Unfortunately, the undergrowth here is way too thick for my bike, so I knock down the kickstand and hide it behind a thick bramble bush. Then I set out on foot to find the place where I lost the blond.

I’m on foot a good fifteen minutes before I find traces of his scent. The forest looks pretty different with daylight filtering through the canopy overhead, but I’m certain this is where I lost him. I have to strain even now to pick up the barest hint of his scent.