How sad was that?
She gnawed on her bottom lip until the tears that stung her eyes went away, and then she shifted her focus. No more of this sad sack b.s. She could throw a giant pity party for herself once she got away, complete with streamers and a cake for one. Maybe she’d even leave Montana entirely and go to Manhattan. Get an apartment and forget pack life…or even wolf life altogether.
The world would be her oyster.
But in order to shuck it, she had to get away from here. Get away from Drake before she found herself firmly entrenched in yet another situation she didn’t choose for herself. Because no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, he moved her. Made her want things she had no business wanting with a man who would keep her against her will.
She pushed herself to her feet and crossed the room, filled with a renewed sense of purpose. She’d tried vinegar and that hadn’t worked, and she’d already given up far more honey than she’d ever meant to. Now it was time to try for some sweet and sour sauce. The happy medium. She’d keep things light, friendly and easy between them so he would let his guard down, but not so friendly that he got suspicious.
Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
By the time she stepped out into the cool, late-morning sunshine an hour later dressed in some more of Drake’s ill-fitting clothes, she had it all together. She had opted not to make the eggs he’d requested, but handed him a granola bar on the way out and even pasted on a smile as she asked the question she'd been dying to ask since he'd told her they were going shopping.
"So, am I supposed to get off this mountain the same way I got on it?"
It wasn't easy, but she managed to keep the fear off her face. If he insisted on shifting and carrying her in his clutches as he soared over the treetops, she wouldn't fight him on it. As much as she dreaded the thought, her eventual goal was to get down from this place and onto earth again where she could run. Once she was able to find her way to a thickly treed forest—which weren’t exactly scarce here in Montana--he'd never catch her. If it took a dragon ride to get there, she’d suffer through it.
Luckily, though, he shook his head. "No. We're going to take my truck."
He reached into his jeans pocket and she stared on in shock as he pulled out a set of keys and pressed a button that sent what looked to be just another part of the stone keep lifting off the ground. It revealed a standard variety garage that held a truck, flanked by a sleek sports car and a motorcycle.
"You son of a-"
She bit off the rest of the words and tamped down the rising tide of fury. He'd never said he didn't have a car, but he'd implied more than once that there was only one way off the mountain. Why had she been so stupid as to trust him?
Think about the now, Willa.
She still needed him to get her down from this godforsaken rock. Having three vehicles and no way to start them wasn't any better than having no vehicle at all.
He strode over to the driver’s side of the truck and unlocked the door so she could get in the passenger’s seat. She settled in without a word and buckled her belt.
"There's only one store in town that carries women's clothing and it’s not so hot, but we’re expecting more weather this afternoon. I’d rather not make the three hour drive to the mall, so unless you want to fly..."
"Nope. The truck will be fine."
He plugged the key into the ignition and started the engine, pulling out a second later.
"We'll just pick you up the essentials, and then, in a few days, we can make the trip to Bozeman," he said, his tone conversational enough that it pricked her ire again. She was basically his prisoner and here he was acting like they were on a Sunday drive.
She nodded and shrugged, forcing herself to keep it cordial. "Whatever you think is best."
As the truck crept closer toward the edge of the cliff though, her annoyance faded as she stared out the windshield in stunned surprise. If she’d only jumped out the window and run to the other side of the house that night, she might have noticed the ten-foot gap in the massive rock wall. The stone house that had looked entirely inaccessible by any means but flight had a terrifyingly narrow road spiraling the perimeter of the mountain it sat on.
The realization sat in her stomach like a stone.
If she had taken two seconds to scout the area before tearing off half-cocked, she could’ve avoided her pathetic rock-climbing attempt and run down the road. Maybe she could’ve even gotten away before--
“It wouldn’t have made any difference,” Drake said, not taking his eyes off the rocky pathway in front of him.
“What wouldn’t have?” she asked, her heart thudding as they rounded the first corner. Jesus, was this a tight fit. If she opened her door and leaned out even three feet, there would be nothing between her and a straight drop.