Rejected And Claimed By Her Trio Alpha Mates

chapter 52

By the time we hit the interstate, dawn is rising over the mountains in the distance and casting the desert in shades of amber and purple. I’m not wearing a watch, though it’s not like that’s ever stopped me. I can tell it’s that purple time of day where late night is bleeding into early morning, and the birdsong answering somewhere in the distance only cements my certainty.

Once we reach empty road, we open the throttle and fly. We make it three miles before I start to breathe easier—five miles before I look in my rearview mirror and assure myself no one followed us. Maybe they were all knocked out or they were just too terrified to chase us when they woke up, I don’t know. But they let us go.

Which is what a person should do when they’re facing a threat they don’t understand. Like Kian said, something that could eat them. Historically, humans didn’t make the best decisions.

I cling to the handlebars with adrenaline still pumping through my veins. As far as I know, we don’t have a plan at all beyond the mason jar inside my trunk. I can’t really worry about that right now. The important part is to put as much distance between us and the humans as possible.

It sucks that things went down the way they did. Humans aren’t meant to see supernaturals. I can’t even imagine how terrified they were to see us battling shadows in the motel parking lot. Clearly, it caused a ripple effect of fear that couldn’t be stopped. A ripple effect that led a bunch of big ballsy men to track us down with guns.

Most people just aren’t ready to know the truth. They were so frightened of us that they put their own lives in danger…

Except, they didn’t, did they? As hard as Kian pushed back on my order not to hurt the humans… none of the feral shifters did. I mean, they didn’t exactly take it easy on them, but neither did I. We knocked them out, shook off enough of them to have some breathing room, then fled.

So what does it mean that the feral shifters listened to me? What does it mean that they didn’t hurt the humans?

Could they have goodness in them? Could they have a conscience?

Could they be reasoned with?

My plan since they pulled me from the forest and tied me up in their bed was to team up with them just long enough to get the antidote. Then I was planning to try to take them down again by whatever means necessary. Earn their trust, then annihilate them using the information I gathered in our time together. Anything it takes to stop the apocalypse.

But what if they’re capable of changing?

They aren’t exactly forthcoming with details on their life, but from what I’ve gathered so far from the hints they’ve spilled, they’re under orders from their alpha, who “made” them. Whatever mission they’re operating under, it has to do with that alpha and the fact that they’re filled with shadow magic.

I think of Frost, looking forlorn in Erik’s library as he told me how much the shadows inside him hurt. How the pain that magic causes is enough to make them want to destroy the barrier between the worlds and pull the shadows closer. To ease the agony.

A hawk flies by overhead in the dim light, his wings spread so wide he looks larger than life. I glance up at him and convince myself he’s a good omen.

It’s a rare thing for me these days, but for just a moment, I allow myself to feel a flicker of hope.

What if there’s another way?

Killers don’t just stop killing because someone tells them to. Killers will shed blood for the slightest reason and not give a s**t who gets hurt in the process. But all three of these men refrained from killing those humans. Even though the townspeople came to Erik’s house specifically to take us down.

So… maybe I could help the feral shifters see another path. Help them break away from the mission they’ve been sent out on by their alpha.

What if I could convince them not to do it? I could show them how f****d up it would be to destroy the world just because their alpha commanded them to. Just to ease their own pain.

Because that’s the kicker, isn’t it? According to Frost, they want to break down those barriers and bring the shadow realm to earth so they won’t hurt anymore. Except, in doing so, they’ll destroy humanity.

Three lives for seven billion?

That math just doesn’t make sense.

But still… I don’t think they’re pure evil. Not like I did before.

I glance at Kian. He’s leading us, looking like a hulking mass of muscles on his little Honda bike. It reminds me of his Harley that I so carefully cut to pieces, and how sexy he looked on the seat of that old girl.

I want him to be a good man.

I want them all to be.

But wanting something doesn’t make it true.

I lean back, turning my face to the sky. I can imagine the heat of daylight just beyond the horizon. The earth is turning ever so slowly, taking us into a new day, and the warmth is just out of sight, just out of reach.

Maybe I can fix this after all.

Just as the thought begins to solidify in my mind, a wave of stark pain lances through me.

I gasp and tighten my fingers on the handlebars, fighting against the sudden agony. It washes over me all at once, a thousand tiny knives digging into my body. Keeping my focus on the road ahead, I let off the gas, but before I can hit the brakes, everything in me goes tense. I lose my grip on the handlebars and double over, completely losing touch with my body.

My vision flashes in and out. I struggle to get my hands back on the bars, but I can’t even feel my fingers through the white hot pain burning me from the inside out. The world dips and twists around me. Colors blur, wind blows, everything somersaults around me. For a brilliant moment, I’m weightless.

Then I crash into the pavement at fifty miles an hour.

If the poison pain felt horrible, this pain is unbearable. I skid across the warm asphalt, then roll and roll, my arms useless, flailing. Something snaps in my arm, and another something cracks in my torso. Then everything goes perfectly, absolutely still.