It was impressive to see Braeden struggle towards the motel by her side. He was limping; Steele must have wounded one of his legs. Nevertheless, not a single sound of pain escaped him, although every time she turned her head in worry, she saw him wince, his face pale with pain.
It didn't take more than a few minutes to reach the motel. At any other time, Alyx would have scoffed and turned up her nose at it. The neon sign was flickering, another sign advertising free rooms only half lit up. The parking lot in front of it was dirty. All in all, in the gloomy light of the rising moon, it looked like the set of a horror movie.
Alyx had never been happier to see a run-down motel in her life.
After weeks trapped underground, even the grubbiest mattress and stained carpet would make her feel like she was in a luxury spa. There'd be food, and soap to wash the grime off her body, and a door she could lock.
Most importantly, she'd be free.
Braeden was panting as she helped him cross the parking lot. She bit her lip again as she looked at him.
They looked suspicious as hell. And if she dragged him in like this, there was a good chance they'd immediately call the cops on them.
“Right,” she said, helping Braeden lean against a wall. “You wait here. Don't move. Try to look like you didn't just get out of a fight. I'll get us a room—back in a minute.”
He gave her a small nod to show that he'd understood, then breathed in deeply, his shoulders relaxing a little now that he could take his weight off his leg.
He wouldn't fool anyone—but then, if they were lucky, no one would care what they'd been up to, as long as they could pay.
Alyx took in a deep breath, then straightened and breezed into the tiny lobby. It smelled like stale cigarette smoke and old sweat. There was no one there but a bored-looking woman in her fifties, who seemed more interested in the rerun of Law & Order on a small TV behind the counter.
“Didn't hear your car out there,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Alyx.
Alyx shrugged. “Car broke down a few miles back. I'm tired and exhausted and not dealing with that shit tonight. All I need is a room and a shower.”
She shoved Braeden's credit card and ID at the woman, who gave the window a bored glance.
“That your man out there? You got no ID of your own?”
Alyx rolled her eyes. “Look, he's got a jealous wife and I'm not putting my name where she can see it if she decides to snoop around. That a problem?”
The woman shrugged. “Not my problem, is it?” she said tranquilly, but took the card without further questions.
Alyx bit back a sigh of relief. Everything about the motel was grubby; even the counter she was leaning against felt sticky.
But when she walked out two minutes later with a key, she couldn't have cared less. So what if the place was run-down and sleazy. They hadn't asked any questions. Right now, that was all they needed.
Chapter Eight: Braeden
“Hey. Don't faint on me, okay? We've almost made it.”
Braeden bit back a groan when Alyx took hold of his shoulder. He'd closed his eyes for a moment, slumping against the wall.
His leg still ached fiercely. Shifter healing would take care of the worst of it overnight, but right now it took all of his remaining strength to keep from slipping into the beckoning darkness.
His vision was fuzzy. There was blackness intruding at the edges, and Alyx was little more than a blur.
But she was with him. His mate was with him, and even though he'd been wounded, she was safe.
That was all that mattered.
“Easy, big guy,” she murmured, supporting him with her shoulder. “Our room's over there. Then you can lie down and I'll get a good look at your leg. Just a few more steps.”
Braeden clenched his teeth. With every step, new pain shot up his leg, but he didn't let a single sound escape. Alyx had been through enough. He wasn't going to scare her now.
Anyway, he'd be as good as new tomorrow.
“Here we are,” she said brightly.