The Shadow of Stars

Two

"Yes," I breathe out, the word barley audible but to his ears it doesn't matter. I need to think, I need to think harder and better than trying to convince him I'm running late for an imaginary event. He opens his mouth and I clutch onto my stomach, leaning over in pretend pain.

The boundary I set becomes non existent and he rushes over to me, his insanely hard arm catching me, the support sending sparks flying through my body.

"Whoa, what's wrong? What happened? Are you alright?" He rambles out and I lift my gaze from the floor to inspect his frantic face before letting out a groan.

"I think I swallowed some paint," I grumble out and his skin turn a shade whiter, pure panic overcoming him and I can see where his paranoia stems from I guess. He finally meets his mate and within five minutes she already looks like she's going to die.

"It's okay, you're going to be fine, let's get you up," he says soothingly and moves to lift me but I stop him before he can carry me out of here to wherever he pleases and gag into my hand.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I announce, moving my hand to clutch onto his bicep as I try to pull myself up. He assists me cautiously, supporting my entire body weight with his as we move down the corridor hastily. He mumbles comforting words to me, looking back every so often as if he is waiting for something to pop out from behind us. The bathroom door rapidly approaches and he pushes it open, ignoring the female only sign on the door.

"I can go in myself," I interrupt, making him stop short to assess me.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of mate, you're ill, let me help you," he says softly, pushing aside a piece of blue hair from my face.

"It's not that, please," I pretend to retch yet again, "Just give me some privacy, if I need you I'll yell," I reason and the shakiness evoked from my genuine nerves must add to my plea as he takes a hold of my vibrating hand, squeezing it gently. His eyes swirl with conflict, looking over me in my state with angst but he pushes them aside and reluctantly leaves me stood in the bathroom.

My hand fishes into my pocket to grab out my phone and I want to cry as I hold down the power button and the screen doesn't start to light up. A knock sounds at the door and I shove my phone back into my pocket before it can fall rom my shaky grasp.

"Are you alright? I've called help and they're on the way," Micah's voice sounds from right outside the door and my breathing picks up. Trapped, I am trapped with a wolf guarding the door and an entourage on the way.

"Gimme a minute," I yell back, biting down on my lip to stop a sob from escaping with it. I turn around the bathroom, my eyes scanning every single inch square of the place until they land on a window above the very last stall.

"Just hang on a few more minutes okay? Help is almost here," Micah's encouragement gives me all the motivation I need to rush into the last stall and prop the seat down, stepping up onto it with my paint covered bag still slung onto my back. My hands move up to the windows edges and I push the seal open with all my strength, the window not budging. Paint smears the edges of the window, marking my failed attempt to flee and I know if he walks in here and sees me, and then that, he won't let me go. I push with all of my might, putting every last ounce of strength I have into my arms and with a light pop, the widow opens.

"How are you holding up?" The muffled voice asks again from behind the door and I push my pain covered bag out the window, praying for a grassy surface beneath.

"I just need a little more time," I respond truthfully and there is no response so I lift my boot up onto the cistern, grabbing onto the windows edge tightly and with all my might, I push myself up and through the small opening, large enough just to allow my body through head first. My body jams as I dangle over the edge of grass, thankfully, that isn't a massive drop down and I look like the biggest fool on the planet.