Page 85 of Knotting Autumn

“Are you okay?”

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “Cole is in pain. A lot.”

“Fuck!” I said. “What do we do?”

“I have to get to him,” Sawyer cried, his eyes distant. Clumsily, he threw himself at the door.

Yelping, I rushed to support him, and together we tumbled into the house. My hip hit the floor, but I barely registered myown pain over the hollow feeling of pain flooding my bond with Thorne.

More pain echoed through my bond with Sawyer from Cole, overloading my brain. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held my breath for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. Thorne was upset, but Cole was clearly seriously hurt. Even the wisps of pain filtering through seized my muscles and turned my stomach.

“Autumn, you should stay here,” Sawyer said, yanking his tennis shoes on without socks.

“No!”

“We should have gotten some fucking guns. Fuck Thorne and his rules. I’m getting a damn Glock the second we’re back in town.”

The blood drained from my face. This was the second time I’d seen Sawyer in a murderous rage, but this was even worse than him wielding a kitchen knife back at our apartment.

Standing, he faced me. “I’m serious, it’s obviously dangerous. I can’t let you go. Thorne wouldn’t either. Just stay safe. Please.”

“Absolutely the fuck not!”

Sawyer’s face tightened, wrinkles forming over his cheeks. “Can you at least find our phones? We might need to call an ambulance.”

Clenching my hands into fists, I stomped to the bedside table, reaching for my phone. The door snapped shut, and I straightened, my mouth falling open.

That bastard left me behind!

Racing to the door, I turned the handle and gave it a shove. It didn’t move.

What the fuck?!

Regret flowed through our bond, mingled with a cold, sick terror. My own rage melted the feeling, flowing hot through my veins. Snarling, I shoved at the door, throwing my shoulderagainst it. On the other side, the heavy mattress scooted across the rough planking of the porch.

“Mother fucker!” I gasped, my feet scraping over the floor as I shoved, using my thighs to push harder.

Slowly, achingly, the mattress slid aside.

“Try to lock me in the fucking cabin, you piece of shit,” I growled, finally muscling my way out of the small space. The clearing was empty, but I could sense two of my men down the road, like the faintest beacons.

Pine needles and dirt churned under the soles of my shoes. My chest ached as I sucked in cold breath after cold breath.

Terror ricocheted through my bonds, and I couldn’t even tell who it was coming from. Clenching my hands into fists, I fought to keep running.

My mates needed me.

Trees blurred past, and several times I stumbled and righted myself, continuing to race forward.

The bonds in my chest pulled taut, and I knew I was going in the right direction. Suddenly, my connection to Thorne went dull, not gone but muted. My throat tightened, but there was no time to stop and cry.

The dirt path sloped down. I had to be almost back to the highway. But what if they were further, or even miles away?

My jaw ached, and a metallic taste coated the back of my tongue. Stitches near my ribs stabbed into my organs until my vision blurred.

How could Sawyer leave me behind? His fated mate relationship with Cole made him irrational and endangered all of us, I realized, the thought like an ice pick in my chest.

A garbled yell reached me, and I turned the bend to the main road. My feet lost their rhythm, and I pitched forward, catching myself on a nearby tree. The jagged bark cut into my palms, but it barely registered.