Escaping Death

Chapter 61

Ace

Last night I dreamt of Sol.

I dreamed that she was happy.

She was dancing without a care in the world, letting go of her doubts and inhibitions. Then like ink in water my mind clouded, obscuring my view of her. When the water finally cleared there she was on the brink of orgasm, being satisfied by Tate and Dean.

Tate handled her gently, far more gently than he's ever handled any woman — physically or emotionally. He made her feel good. He made her feel safe. My chest tightened watching them, but not from jealousy. I loved watching her, I loved watching him take care of her. Dare I say, I appreciated Tate even more for the way he cared for my mate.

How many alphas can say they trust anyone but themselves with their mate? I could. There in that dream I felt it. He'd do anything for me and he'd do anything for her in kind.

Tate wasn't the only one treating her well. Dean was there. But he couldn't move, he couldn't get to her and he eventually broke down and begged for help. Our resident caretaker practically sobbed with need, and Solana didn't hesitate to reverse roles on him, assuming the role of caretaker and taking care of him.

Then, at the end of my dream, my beautiful mate turned to me and fit herself easily into my arms. She let me soothe her in the bath we took together and then allowed me to lay her down in bed. She rested between me and Hunter as Eli slept on the other side of Hunter and Dean on the other side of me.

Tate slept on the couch on his own, but it felt like even he was coming around to the realization that he'd rather be half in than half out.

I'm floating around in between sleep and consciousness, eyes still closed, patting around the mattress for my mate but instead of a handful of Solana, I end up bumping up against Hunter.

What is Hunter doing here in bed? I wonder to myself trying to think back to last night for any clues on how this happened. That's when realization sets in, a potent mixture between concern and elation that has my heart thundering against my ribs. That wasn't a dream.

I pry one tentative eye open and tuck my chin to my chest looking around the bedroom for other signs of life. Particularly Solana. But the only person in the room with me appears to be Hunter.

Sitting up in bed and sliding my hands down my face in an attempt to brush the sleep from my eyes I prod at Hunter's back with my elbow. "Did you see the guys leave this morning?"

Hunter swats at my arm with a groan before rolling away just out of my reach. "They said they were going to eat and stretch their wings, but I have no idea what time that was."

Rising off the bed, I pad over to the couch where I left my phone in my pant's pocket and text the group. On the coffee table is a generous breakfast spread with pitchers of water and coffee that I'll no doubt dig into once I figure out where my pack and my mate have gone.

And then I hear her.

"Sol? Are you okay?" I dash to the bathroom door through which I can hear her gagging and dry heaving.

I kick open the door more forcefully than necessary, finding her bent over the toilet bowl holding her hair back away from her face. She straightens up, dabs the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, and flushes. Like getting rid of the evidence would give her plausible deniability for what I've heard and seen.

"The door was closed for a reason, you caveman." She mutters at me with no heat as she begins brushing her teeth feverishly.

"Caves are – by definition – doorless, Princess." By now, between me kicking in the door and hearing Solana getting sick, Hunter has joined me at the threshold of the bathroom. "Everything okay?" He asks, looking apprehensively between me and Sol.