Page 77 of Rogue & Her Hunters
When my hand closes around a sock that crinkles when I squeeze it, I yank the rolled-up dollars out of it. “Jackpot!”
Looks like these frat boys are shady. Perhaps, they’re just being cautious in case this area doesn’t have reception and they need emergency cash, or more likely, they’re taking part in one of their frat rituals.
I toss the cash to Bird, who drops it into a backpack and throws me the other bag.
“I feel bad that we’re stealing their shit,” Bird says, guiltily.
“Don’t. The assholes are most likely gambling with the cash, and that’s the best case scenario. They’ll get over losing their shit. They can see it as their contribution to charity,” I reply. Bird looks unconvinced. “The Rogue charity. Didn’t you used to play Robin Hood? See it as stealing from the rich to give to the poor.”
Bird gives a mischievous grin. “You’re right. What are they going to do to us? Put us in jail? Done that. Got the t-shirt.”
I snatch up a black winter jacket and shrug it on. Then I choose a thick hoodie with Greek letters on the back and slip it onto Bird. I brush the leaves out of his hair.
When Bird smiles at me, it steals my breath away because wearing this hoodie, he suddenly looks so much younger.
His age.
If he was an Alpha, I could imagine him hurrying to class on campus, rather than running for his life.
Why aren’t Omegas allowed to study? Bird is fucking smart.
“Come on, we have a train to catch.” I stand, hiking the bag onto my back.
When Bird struggles with his backpack, I take it from him.
They’re both light. They don’t contain rocks.
“I’ll carry it,” I insist. “Just fly toward ourfreedom.”
When I stand and run, Bird sprints next to me.
This time, as tired as we both are, it doesn’t feel hard.
Instead, it’s like we’re flying on the cold air. I can sense Bird’s exhilaration through the bond. It feeds my own.
This time the blare of the train’s mournful horns is louder. It is joined by a deep rumble and rhythmic clatter.
Yet also, shouts start up behind us.
Are they from the guards? Or the campers?
“Ro…” Bird’s voice is high and panicked.
“Don’t look back.” I focus on the thinning trees, as we reach the edge of the forest and the curving train tracks. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
I growl.
I can do this.
I must.
Ahead, I catch a flash of deep blue and yellow.
We’re going to miss the train.
“Faster.” I struggle to hold onto both backpacks as I sprint with Bird at my shoulder.
