Destined to Run Read online

  Destined to Run

  © 2020 J. Kearston

  All rights reserved

  No part of this work may be duplicated, reproduced, or transferred by any means, without the written approval of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual people (living or dead), places, or events is purely coincidental.

  *Cover art by Lizzie Dunlap at Pixie Covers*

  For Sterling Thomas- Here’s to many more years of trying to seduce you.

  Contents

  1. Rin

  2. Rin

  3. Rin

  4. Osiris

  5. Rin

  6. Cole

  7. Ares

  8. Rin

  9. Osiris

  10. Rin

  11. Cole

  12. Ares

  13. Rin

  14. Cole

  15. Ares

  16. Rin

  17. Osiris

  18. Rin

  19. Rin

  20. Osiris

  21. Rin

  Epilogue

  Also By J. Kearston

  One

  Rin

  A heavy thump jolts me from my slumber and I fumble to turn my bedside lamp on. The dim lighting adds more shadows than anything, but still, it’s enough to illuminate the fact that I’m not alone.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  My back presses against the headboard as my heart slips into overdrive, hammering away when it becomes abundantly clear that the closest thing to a weapon I have is a lamp that’s far too awkward and heavy to be of use, or a book.

  Bigger than a housecat, but not on par with a jaguar, his shoulders roll as he stalks closer. I slide my legs beneath me, getting ready to sprint from the room, when he falls to his side on the next step. Every second feels like a lifetime as I wait for him to get back up, to pounce and tear into my throat like the stories. Instead, he barely makes a sound, his breathing labored.

  Tentatively, I inch closer to the edge of my bed, eyeing the beast with caution. Blood pools around him, large gashes torn into his side. I get to my feet, sidling along the far wall and nearly trip on the chair he knocked over near the window. My door seems a million miles away, but the further I get without him moving, the more my fear starts to ebb, giving way to cautious curiosity.

  Glancing back at the open window, I keep one eye on him while craning my neck. Out on the street below, a few people are clearly searching for something, or rather, someone. There’s no way I can tell who they are from this distance, the branches of the tree obscuring things more than the night sky.

  I bite my lip, warring against the rational side of my brain telling me to run. But my father’s opinions on shifters are black and white, never willing to listen to a word in their favor. If I scream, he’ll bust in here and put him down, no matter what skin he’s wearing at the time. He’ll drag it out and make it a show in the middle of the street for all of his friends.

  God damn it, I’m the stupid chick that gets murdered in the movies. I’m going to get my face bitten off.

  Still, I inch closer to look, because I’m not a monster despite being born to one. If the wounds are fatal, despite how it will destroy a piece of my soul, I’ll grant him a mercy killing. No one deserves to die lying in agony for hours on end alone.

  “Did you attack someone?”

  Logically, I know he could lie, but as I meet his golden eyes, all I see reflected back at me is pain and vulnerability. A soft shake of his head, ending with a hiss of pain.

  I sigh, not doubting that he crossed paths with the wrong bastards. This section of town is violently bigoted against shifters, and most of the men around here are grade A assholes to boot.

  Cautiously, I finish crossing the distance between us so I can see the full extent of the damage. He doesn’t flinch or lash out despite the pain, remaining as still as possible. Whether it’s from his injuries or to put me at ease, I won’t know until he shifts back and can explain himself.

  It’s hard to see in this light and with as much blood as is coating his spotted fur, but I’m impressed he was able to scale a tree and leap in here in this condition. Adrenaline is a funny thing though, and if someone were carving me up, I’d risk anything to escape too.

  “If you bite me, so help me I will drop your ass,” I warn, meeting his golden eyes so he can see my conviction.

  I’m sure my thundering heartbeat gives away my fear, but if he thinks to abuse my kindness, that’s on him. I’m the one that has to live with myself, and a part of me would always regret not trying to help, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go down without a fight.

  Gently, I scoop him up and he yowls in pain, but doesn’t thrash around. No doubt about it, he’s over forty pounds, and I have to adjust my grip so he doesn’t slip. I do my best not to jostle him more than necessary, making my way to my attached bathroom and easing him into the bathtub.

  “Corinna?” My father’s voice reaches me along with his gentle knocking at my bedroom door.

  “Shit,” I hiss, frantically pinning whoever the hell this is with a look. “If you want to live, don’t make a sound.”

  I dart out of the bathroom, gently tugging the door closed behind me and taking a few steps into my room the same time as my father pushes open the door.

  Carson Harlow is an intimidating man to say the least, and even in a t-shirt and pajama pants, he looks like he could rip your throat out. Not a single dark hair is ever out of place, even now as he was pulled from bed with the noise. The same set of gold flecked, emerald eyes that I inherited look back at me, but they widen as they take in my disheveled appearance.

  “What on earth happened? Are you alright?” he demands, storming into the room.

  I glance down at the animal blood staining my tank top and cotton shorts, as well as the floor. “This is embarrassing,” I ramble, bullshitting an explanation on the fly. “My, um, period came early. A bad one.” Smooth, Rin, not transparent at all. “I’m probably going to need to buy some new sheets, and-“

  He cuts me off with both hands held up in surrender, looking disgusted. “I don’t need details, as long as you’re sure you’re alright.” He speaks firmly, shutting down that conversation before it can gain any traction. “If you’re feeling well enough tomorrow, I’ll send you with some money to get what you need, and if not, I’ll arrange for someone to take care of it.”

  Holy shit, that worked? Though I suppose the last thing he’d suspect is a man bleeding out in my bathtub.

  “Thanks, Dad, you’re the best.” I give him my best smile. “Sorry I woke you up…falling out of bed. I’ll get this mess cleaned up before it stains; hate to have to explain it to a carpet cleaner. That’d be embarrassing.”

  It works, my father shuddering and heading back towards the door. “I’m glad you put those silly notions of moving out on your own out of your head; I don’t think I’d ever get a night’s rest. A young girl can’t be on her own in this world.”

  I sigh, because it always circles back to this. “I can’t live here forever. I’m twenty-three, Dad. Children are supposed to move out, you know. If real estate prices weren’t so obscene this year, I would have already done it, but I’m not about to throw away money for something overpriced. I’ll wait until there’s a dip in the market this winter, but come spring, I plan to be settling in somewhere.”

  His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t bother continuing the argument again right now with as late as it is. He knows he still has a few months left before it becomes an issue, but I have no illusions he’ll be magically on board. It’s been driving a wedge between us since I brought it up.

  “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

  With a mock salute, I wait until I’m sure that he’s gone before
darting into the bathroom and locking the door. The feline is right where I left him, but his eyes are shut and his chest is barely moving.

  “Shit!”

  I slide to my knees outside of the claw foot tub, pressing my fingers to his neck and other palm over his heart and praying to feel a pulse or his chest rising. It’s faint, but there, and I exhale a harsh breath of relief.

  The next couple of hours are spent scrounging up supplies to clean and bandage his wounds as well as scrub away all of the evidence. All the while he stays passed out, so that at least alleviates the concern of getting mauled when I practically shower him in rubbing alcohol.

  By the time I’m crawling back into bed, the sun is already beginning to rise. I’m exhausted before the day’s even begun and I know it’s only going to be worse when I need to find a way to smuggle him out of the house. But at least for a few hours he can heal before having to run, because if the people looking for him raise the alarm claiming that there’s a rabid shifter in town?

  May the gods have mercy on his soul.

  Two

  Rin

  There’s a brief moment of blissful ignorance as I start to wake up before reality crashes down on me.

  I’m harboring a fugitive. Fuck, I’m going to jail.

  Though I’m terrified of being caught, I don’t regret it. Just because something is legal doesn’t make it right, and the way humans treat the mages and shifters? Deplorable.

  Driven by fear or jealousy, most people can’t stand either race. It’s worse in the bigger cities like this one, but even the more tolerant, smaller towns have their own sets of issues. Only the very fringes of civilization where the majority of shifters prefer to live are safe for them out in the open, driving a clear divide between us.

  Between the checkpoints in and out of this section of the city, along with the blatant hatred prevalent everywhere, I’ve only seen a few from afar over the years. Though even then, they remained in their human skins while forced here to trade. I’ve never actually set eyes on one before yesterday in their shifted form, and I couldn’t even tell you what breed he is.

  With all of the predatory animals in the world driven to extinction hundreds of years ago, nature intervened to correct the imbalance as the prey population was left unchecked, ruining ecosystems. Humans, as the highest left on the food chain, started evolving even more. Shifters, mages, and those that were…wrong.

  The vampires are a mindless plague and the only thing every race can agree on as a threat big enough to warrant joining forces, no matter how much they hate each other. But when the occasional vamp nest emerges from the shadows to terrorize the city, it’s impossible to keep quiet. Still, I doubt my mystery man came with a pack to help hunt one down. Even if guns are less effective on the creatures than tearing their throats out, enough firepower gets the job done with the added bonus of not needing to ‘lower themselves’ to asking for help from the people they hate.

  I head over to my bookshelf, well aware that I’m being a coward and putting off facing him just a little bit longer. Leafing through the pages, I finally get to the section on felines and scan the pictures so I don’t sound like a complete idiot when he shifts back and fills me in on just what the hell he’s doing here.

  Ocelot. Not sure I’ve heard the term before, but pretty much a midget jaguar, or a pretty house cat on steroids. At least he isn’t a bear or something, because there’d be no hiding that despite my best intentions.

  I take a steadying breath before crossing the room and softly knock, pushing open the bathroom door to see him still in the bathtub, but more alert. “Feeling any better?”

  He doesn’t respond as I come over to check his wounds, still looking pretty rough. Shifters have advanced healing, but it’s just a sped up version of human’s. I gently unwrap the bloody bandage and grimace at the tattered flesh, looking him in the eye.

  “It’s not exactly good. If you’re scabbed over in a week, I’ll be impressed. They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

  He rests his head on the edge of the tub, blinking up at me pitifully with wide, sad eyes.

  “Oh no,” I warn, grabbing the last of the alcohol and a fresh bandage. “You can’t stay. I’m already risking a hell of a lot doing this much.” I glance at all of the matted fur and sigh. “You’re going to need a shower before I do any more or you’re going to end up with a wicked infection.”

  Still, he just blinks at me and makes no move to transform.

  “Damn it, don’t tell me you can’t shift back until you’re not such a mess?” My voice rises in pitch, nerves making me squeak out my plea. “Please?”

  He opens his mouth in a wide yawn, nodding his head weakly before resting it on the lip of the tub again. His eyes drift close and I internally slap myself, knowing this is what I deserve for getting involved.

  Grumbling, I start filling the tub with water and grab a water bottle from my room, doing my best to get him cleaned up without jostling him too much. His face contorts, and his lips pull back in a snarl here and there, but he manages to stay relatively silent, with the exception of a few whimpers or justified hisses.

  As best as I can from this angle, I towel him off before smothering antibiotic ointment everywhere, wrapping him up like a mummy, he’s so torn up. Honestly, that he isn’t dead is a miracle.

  “Shit, okay, so what am I supposed to do with you? You can’t just live in my bathtub.” Naturally, he doesn’t respond, on the verge of passing out again.

  It’s going to be fine. Dad never really comes in here anyway.

  “Corinna?”

  Oh for the love of-

  “Coming! One sec, I’m changing!” I glance down at the damn cat, shaking him. “Wake the hell up, we need to hide you.”

  His eyes blink open, but they still look groggy and glazed over. He tries to get to his feet, but it’s slow going. I reach in and drag him out, not having time to cater to his comforts, and drag him into my room.

  I end up in the walk in closet, flipping the top of my suitcase open and dropping him inside. Leaving it unzipped, I close the lid and throw a haphazard mess of clothes on it before dressing in the first thing I get my hands on so I don’t smell like wet cat.

  By the time I’m jogging over to my door in a simple lavender summer dress, my father is scowling. “Sorry, up half the night with cramps,” I lie easily so that he won’t pay attention to how frantic and disheveled I am.

  He gags, and it will never cease to amuse me seeing this powerful man squirm in the face of basic human biology. “I have to go to work, so I just wanted to check on you before I left.” He pulls a credit card from his pocket, passing it over easily. “If you’re not up for shopping, I left the number for the service on the kitchen counter.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “If you feel inclined to go too far from home?” He cants his head to the side, waiting, and I roll my eyes.

  “Then call your office first so you can send someone to escort me. Seriously, Dad, you’re paranoid. I’m not made of glass.”

  His eyes are hard as he narrows them at me. “The world is a dangerous place, Corinna. It already took your mother from me, I won’t let it have you too. It’s my job to protect you, so humor an old man, alright? Or just shop close to home.”

  I sigh, agreeing, because otherwise he’ll never leave. It’s absolutely ridiculous that at my age he’s still convinced I can’t do anything for myself, that without being monitored I’ll end up in trouble. I pointedly ignore the fact that he might be onto something as I head back to my closet to let the cat out of the bag.

  He’s awake again by the time I free him, and the ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on me. “I guess you must be hungry by now, huh?”

  As he licks my hand, I smother the small smile that tries to escape. For all of the accounts of how horrible they are, this one is certainly missing the mark. A burden, yeah, but not dangerous.

  “You’re going to have to stay hidden until you leave. If you hear anyone c
oming, make sure you stay out of sight until I tell you it’s clear, okay? The cleaners are due in this weekend, and sometimes they’re early, so you have to be careful if I’m not here.”

  He flicks his tongue over my palm again. “I’m going to take that as you understand. Because I swear, I will deny having any knowledge of you sneaking in here to save my own ass if it comes down to it.”

  I sigh, already seeing I’m going to develop a complex talking to myself. “I need to go out for a while, but I’ll bring something back for you to eat. Can you eat regular food, or just like, meat?” I have to rephrase the question to yes or no to get anywhere with him, but I’m leaning towards him preferring meat, but won’t be poisoned if I bring back something else.

  Reluctantly, I leave the house, heart hammering away as I navigate the streets of the affluent section of the city. Here, we rarely need to worry about anything out of the norm happening, and I’ll be the first to admit I’m not exactly prepared to handle it. Every glance in my direction, it feels like they can tell, that they know I’m doing something illegal. By the time I’ve bought new bedding to keep up with my lie, along with swinging through a café and grabbing an assortment of to-go items, I’m an anxious wreck.

  “Corinna Harlow, as I live and breathe,” a smooth voice states from behind me and I jump, turning to face Jax and plastering a polite, fake smile on my face.

  “Jax. A pleasure as always.”

  Despite my feelings for the jerkoff, our fathers work together in the heart of town and he’d be furious if I caused waves that embarrassed him. I’m not blind to the fact that I’m one of the lucky ones; just because I was born to money doesn’t mean I take it for granted. I have a habit of venturing to the poorer parts of the city to shop because a shirt is a shirt and it’s stupid to spend hundreds of dollars on anything for a penthouse district label. It’s why we had to compromise on escorts for him to humor me and let me go, but today I’d rather just get back home and hole up until the storm I’m playing in blows over.