Page 16 of Torin

It looks at me once before turning and running into the trees.

I climb straight back into the truck and lock the door.

Maybe Torin really is going to get his truck, or maybe he’s going somewhere with cell service to tell East Ridge exactly where I am. I can’t do much about either possibility.

What I can do is get out of this fucking dress.

I climb awkwardly into the back seat and reach for my backpack before remembering the files.

Shit.

I climb out again, keeping one eye on the trees as I go around to the rear of the truck. The crash has twisted the tailgate enough that the latch sticks, and I have to wrench it twice before it finally gives.

The files are exactly where I left them.

I slide the package into my backpack and take it into the cab with me before stripping off the dress. The fabric catches around my hair and tears somewhere near the side seam, but I yank it free and throw it onto the floor.

I’ve never been so happy to put on a pair of panties in my life.

I pull on jeans, a shirt and a sweater, and by the time I’m dressed, the cold has started creeping into the truck and exhaustion is catching up with me. My face throbs, my chest aches and even my hands hurt.

I look through the windshield at the place where Torin disappeared.

I have no idea whether he’s coming back. Six miles isn’t that far, and I’ve hiked farther. But I’m not setting off alone through unfamiliar bear territory at midnight after a car crash with nothing but my phone as a flashlight.

I check the time.

I’ll give him twenty minutes.

3

Torin

Irace through the dark forest as fast as my four paws can carry me. The lodge isn’t far. A few minutes at this pace.

Usually I’d enjoy the run—heck, usually I’d be on the trail of a late-night snack.

But tonight I’m too busy replaying the last fifteen minutes.

Of all the things I expected to find in my territory tonight, my mate wasn’t one of them.

My mate.

Even thinking the words feels fucking unreal.

After all these years, all the wondering. After watching my younger brother find his mate, and trying not to think too hard about whether mine was out there somewhere.

And then I find her because Orson runs her truck off the road.

Hannah.

My beast says her name over and over.

I knew before we touched. The instant I got close enough to scent her through the blood and the stink of the airbag and every other smell clinging to that truck, my bear went fucking crazy.

Mate.

Then she put her hand in mine, and I felt it right down to my bones.