Hunted and Tormented

Chapter 11: Dictator of the relationship

I stared at Jem’s face for what felt like hours, searching for something that would tell me why he was so mad. Why all of a sudden he hated me. But there was nothing except rage.

He didn’t want me. Right? He was banishing me and everything. He didn’t even look remorseful. It made my chest hurt more and I nearly crippled, falling before him.

Instead I ran. I don’t really know how I got out; all I remember is racing up the stairs, through a door and hurtling down a hill. From then on, everything blurred into one.

The agony of Jem’s rejection. The pain of Luke’s death. The stone of dread that I was sentenced to die as well. It all bubbled over and tears flooded down my faces as I sprinted into the forest. I almost shifted but realised that these were the only clothes I had and I didn’t know how long it would be until I found more. So I kept running, passing trees faster than I ever had, pushing myself further and further away from the pain slicing through me that I couldn’t understand.

He doesn’t want us, I cried to my wolf as I stopped and slid down the trunk of a tree. He wants to kill us and he doesn’t want us.

She said nothing. She didn’t even whimper. Her silence proved just how much pain she was in.

I don’t know how long I sat there, shaking with sobs and tears flowing down my face but when it started to get dark, I pushed myself up and trudged on. Even though I’d left Jem’s property, this was still his territory. If I was found, there was no chance of judgement and I would be killed on sight. I guessed that was the order Jem had given anyway.

…

…

…

A couple of hours later, after I’d found the highway and walked along side it for a while, I’d come to a town with a name I didn’t recognise. I wasn't exactly familiar with Los Angeles like I was with the city back home, but I figured it had to have cheap accommodation somewhere.

As my sneakers slapped against the concrete pavement, I passed the glowing lights of a small hotel with a revolving door. I remembered when I was younger how much Luke used to enjoy those. Me, I’d never seen the fascination with them, especially after Luke stuck me in one and spun the damn thing round.

I stopped a little way down the road in front of an ATM and yanked off one of my shoes. Yes, I know, it looks weird but when I peeled back the sole I slid out my cash card and shoved it into the machine. Seconds later I was walking back to the hotel with a pocketful of money.

The lady at the front desk looked surprised to see me. She was a middle-aged woman, probably in her late forties with grey-threaded hair and crow’s feet around her eyes. She placed a weathered hand on the table and smiled at me tiredly. “Hello there. Are you checking in?”

“For a couple of nights,” I said, shelling out some notes. “Will that be a problem?”

The woman shook her head. “Not at all. Not many folks stop by in this town. When they do it’s only passing through. This place is used to short-time visitors.”

After scribbling something down in a leather-bound book, she handed me a gold key with a large plastic leaf attached to it. “Your room is number twelve, up the stairs to the right. Will you be having breakfast?”

I told her no and thanked her before hurrying to my room. As soon as I pushed open the door and spotted the large double bed and quilt all I wanted to do was jump on it and never get up. I felt drained, empty of everything. I knew what I really needed was a hot shower to get the blood flowing through me again. My entire body had kind of stopped since I’d left Haven House.

I showered and flopped into bed, hoping to be claimed by sleep instantly. Unfortunately, sleep had a totally didn’t plan.

By the next morning, I felt like a zombie. Several times in the night, I’d woken up, sure I’d heard Jem’s voice and then tossed and turned for hours wondering if it had been real or if I was losing my mind. Groaning, I pulled myself out of bed and faced the mirror in the bathroom.

Oh. My. God.

What the hell?

I slapped a hand over the vicious red mark on my neck. Jem’s claiming bite had suddenly inflamed overnight. It throbbed tenderly and when I poked it, sharp needles of pain stabbed me like a million bee stings. I knew what this was. It was a warning I had to get back to Jem that I had to be with him and never run away ever again. Never leave his side. Every cell of my being was screaming at me to do that. This was what happened when a marked mate stayed away from her mate for too long.

Looks like I’ll be keeping my hair down today.

I found a small restaurant open on the corner of the street that did breakfast, so I ordered up and sat with my coffee, running my finger around the thick, china edge. The whole place smelt like sandwich and cleaning fluid, especially the ripped red leather booths. Still. It was better than nothing. Better than being dead.

I knew I couldn’t stay here long. Sometime last night, I’d ventured onto a new territory and I didn’t want to run into any pack members. I doubted they’d believe I was only passing through and they probably knew exactly who I was. Knox Pack had faxed a picture of me to every pack in America and Canada.

What bothered me at that second was Jem’s outburst. Just thinking about him hurt my chest, but I couldn’t understand why he’d been so mad. Why things had changed so quickly. Why for some reason he thought I’d rather be dead than be with him. That’s what he was getting at, right? He assumed I wanted out because I wouldn’t sleep with him yet made it a bigger deal than it was. And he said . . . he said I could be with Luke. That meant he planned to go ahead with killing me. He’d only given me a head start.

God, he was so difficult. What is it with male werewolves and their primal need to mate? Seriously, us girls sometimes need some time . . . like for instance to process the whole I have a mate thing. Because that is a big deal on its own. We don’t need the pressure of sex piled on top of that. I know as an Alpha, Jem was hardwired to start producing heirs as soon as possible but I’d prefer to live my life a little longer before I starting pushing out babies, thanks. Why couldn’t Jem see that?

Still I was pissed at him for the now that I know the truth we can be together catastrophe. I still hadn't forgiven him for that. First, for not believing me. second, for expecting me to roll over and accept it all. Third, for thinking it was acceptable to treat me that way. To make himself the dictator of our relationship.

I was shaken from my thoughts when a bunch of rowdy guys pushed the door open. There was about four of them, all tall and chiseled but what really put me off was them striding up to the counter as if they were gods. Jesus, some people did think very highly off themselves.

Suddenly I stiffened as their scents hit me like a bus. My blood pulsed through my body and my eyes widened. Shit. I needed to get out of there. It would totally not be good if I was seen. I knew with Jem there was a slim chance of being saved. But with these werewolves – there was no chance of negotiation.

I dropped a couple of notes on the table and was out of the door in a flash. I remember hardly making a noise, hardly moving at all as if I was like air. It was an ability I’d had for years. Yet the memory of one of the werewolves looking after me was burned into my mind.