At least I had my wolf.
My phone buzzed. “I bet that’s Casey, wondering where the hell I am. We need to roll.”
“Casey,” Jaxson said flatly. It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement of all that was wrong with the world.
“He’s got the headstone in his car. I didn’t know anyone else shady or skilled enough to find an unbreakable tombstone at a moment’s notice.”
Jaxson’s jaw clenched. “Fine. But we’re taking my truck. Your Fury won’t make it up the back roads, and Casey’s ride is a piece of shit. I trust it less than I trust him.”
I dismissed the shadows and grabbed my phone to text my cousin. “Where’s your truck parked?”
“On a pull-off on Highway Twelve, near the boundary road. He’ll know it when he sees it.”
I texted Casey. His response was quick: Jaxson? WTF.
“Yeah, my cousin might not be keen on the idea, either.” I pocketed my phone.
“Follow me,” Jaxson said, and took off running through the woods.
I had my Swiftley boots, so it was easy for me to keep up with him without breaking a sweat. My feet pounded into the sand as my soul breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to run together.
I didn’t know why I’d run from him before. Instinct, I supposed. A dread of what was coming tightening around my throat. The fear that I would be the one to hurt him, to hurt the pack.
I couldn’t face that.
Hush,Wolfie said. Stop worrying. Just focus on his buns.
She was incorrigible, but my eyes darted down involuntarily. The sight was enough to drive the dread away for a moment. Feeling a little flush rising, I wondered if I might work up a sweat after all.
When we neared the road, Jaxson slowed and stopped by the bushes where he’d stashed his clothes.
“Give me a few minutes to talk to Casey,” I said, tearing my eyes from the hard angles of his body. “We haven’t cleared the air.”
Jaxson nodded and started dressing. I lingered for just a moment, then made my way to the road through the cluster of oak and hickory as my stomach tightened.
Last time I’d seen or spoken to my cousin was at Aunt Laurel’s. She’d tried to stop me from leaving, and I’d lashed out with my magic. I’d bolted out of the house, leaving Casey cradling her with a look of abject horror on his face.
Since then, he’d learned that I was a werewolf and Jaxson’s mate. And now, I had to tell him I was the werewolf antichrist. Shit.
We’d become so close, yet I’d kept so much from him. And I hadn’t returned any of his calls.
How the hell did I expect him to forgive me?
I stopped dead in my tracks, the guilt of everything weighing on my shoulders like massive iron chains. It had taken all the courage I had just to text him to ask for help with the gravestone. How was I going to face him now?
My leg kicked forward as Wolfie took control, and I yelped in surprise.
Stop that. I’m going! I snapped at my wolf.
Didn’t seem like it.
“Savannah?” Casey’s voice echoed through the trees.
I sighed and trudged out of the forest into a whirling morass of doubt, guilt, and fear.
Jaxson’s big black truck was pulled off to the side of the road, lit up by the headlights of Casey’s RAV4 parked haphazardly behind. My cousin was leaning against the hood with his arms crossed.
I didn’t need werewolf senses to read his mood: pissed.