Page 97 of Aine
“Go home,” I order, stepping back.
They fumble to stand and rush away. The next challenge they attempt against will be done in our animal form, whether or not they want it.
I’m sure at this point, Aine is asleep, and I hope Alex put her in my bathroom as I requested. The humans always seem to get sick when they drink, and I assume my fiery mate is no different.
It’s doubtful she’ll be happy to see me, but I’ll bring her water and crackers before giving my good news and leaving her alone to be angry. My beast hopes she’ll ask me to stay and comfort her, but I refuse to get my hopes up for something I know realistically won’t happen.
The muscles in my thighs burn with how quickly I run home, and I can’t stop from smiling as I enter my village and shift back to my skin.
“Alex and the others left about twenty minutes ago!”
What?I blink, confused as one of my men grabs my hand and yanks me into the woods.
“We don’t know when she was taken, but it was recently. I’ll stay here and look over the pack,” he blurts out before pushing me in the direction of my brother’s stale scent. “Fucking go!”
My world spins as I take off into the forest.
There’s only one person my men would push me so quickly to follow after, and that thought is confirmed when I round the back of my house and smell Aine’s blood.
I recognize Owen’s too, his scent barely noticeable but still there.
I’m going to kill him.
My beast cries as we run atop her puddles and drips, his agony distracting me every time the scent thickens and he realizes this is a place where she felt more pain and lost more blood.
I’m going to find her, and I’m going to rip apart every dirty beast inside Owen’s sad excuse of a pack.
Chapter Twenty-Five
AINE
Nobody will makeeye contact with me. I plead and cry for their help, but they pretend not to notice. In the brief moments I do catch them looking, their gazes are full of contempt.
I don’t know what I’ve ever done to earn such hatred.
My left eye’s swollen so badly, I can’t see out of it, but I use what vision I do have to scan the treeline in search of Damien. I’ve been tied to this pole for over a day now and am beginning to worry.
Owen seems to be on high alert as he paces. His eyes occasionally flash to me, and I assume he intends to kill me if Damien arrives.
As if he can sense my gaze, he turns in my direction. His frown transforms into a smile as he takes notice of my attention. I look away before he can get any ideas, mentally cursing myself as he excuses himself from the group of beasts he speaks to and saunters over.
I avoid looking as he approaches and crouches at my feet.
“Look at me, Aine,” he orders.
Despite his kind tone, his hand makes painful contact with my cheeks as he grips my chin and forces my head toward his. I blink to try to clear my vision, but his image remains blurry and unfocused.
I’m unable to tell if the lack of sight is a side effect of my swollen eye or a permanent condition due to the onslaught of strikes my head has taken recently. I hope it’s the first, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were permanent.
“I’m sorry,” I cry out.
I don’t know what I’m apologizing for. Owen doesn’t seem to mind, though, as a wide grin spreads across his face.
“Why are you sorry?” he asks.
I open my mouth to respond, but no sound emerges. I don’t know what I’ve done, and I don’t know what there is to apologize for. Owen laughs at my internal struggle, the noise loud and harsh.
His fingers tap against my cheek before he shoves my head against the pole. I let out a quiet grunt as the back of my skull makes painful contact with the wood. Tears wet my cheeks, and I lower my gaze to the ground in submission.