Reborn (Shadow Beast Shifter, #3)(11)

Any drowsiness I felt disappeared the moment I found myself clit-blocked by an invisible entity. “What the fuck?” I muttered, staring down in confusion. It was almost as if there was a barrier on my fucking vagina, and yet the water was hitting it fine…

I let my thighs fall open farther, the beat of the water landing right where I needed it, the chill almost sending me up the wall as it cooled my heated flesh. Soon I was moaning, the swirls of arousals so strong that I was near clawing the tiles in need.

“Holy fuck, Shadow Beast.” I cursed and cried out as an orgasm slammed into me.

Why I’d called out to the damn devil of shifters, I had no idea; it had just slipped out in that moment of release. I supposed if anyone was to thank for the pleasure a body could have, it was the one who’d created our race of beings. Thank you for the clit, Shadow Beast.

Oh, and the G-spot.

Dude deserved an award of some description. Even if he was the one currently messing with my memories.

As I came down from the high of my orgasm, I reached up and adjusted the temperature, wondering where to slot this additional what the actual fuck moment in my life.

I couldn’t touch myself.

When had that even happened? I mean, I hadn’t tried since waking in Torin’s bed because I’d been somewhat preoccupied with the missing months of my life, but my natural horniness was always going to rear its head sooner rather than later, and it seemed that I had another point to add to my list.

7. Kill the motherfucker who decided I couldn’t touch myself to bring pleasure.

If there was one thing I hated more than any other, it was the loss of my free will. No one was allowed to dictate what I did with my body. If this was thanks to whoever had stolen my memories, be it the Shadow Beast or someone else, I would be merciless when I found them.

By the time I dragged my ass out of the shower, I felt wrecked, but with determination filling my soul, I pushed through. Once I was dressed, I checked my phone, praying that somehow Simone had left me a message during the night.

Twenty text messages blinked at me, along with five or six voicemails. When I flicked through, half were from Torin and half from Jaxson. Checking in with me. Asking if I got home safely. Chewing me out for leaving the mixer without saying goodbye to the alphas.

I deleted them all and their voice messages without even bothering to listen. I was acting like an asshole, I was well aware of that, but… fuck them. Especially Torin. He didn’t deserve my forgiveness. I always thought the heroines in books I read were far too lenient with the alpha males. They never made those bastards work for the right to be part of their lives, letting their hormones do the thinking instead of their brains.

I would not just be forgiving and forgetting all the years of bullshit and torment I’d gone through. They owed me at least ten years of their changed attitudes before I’d consider it, and while Jaxson had taken the first step, Torin was not even in the race yet.

Pushing those two assholes from my mind, I left the apartment and headed toward town. Torma really only had one main section of shops, and since I hadn’t ventured this way since waking without my memories, I decided it was the perfect place to start my investigation. The main street was well known for its gossip.

As I walked, the heat beat down on me despite the early hour—it was going to be a scorcher today. Our elevation was high enough here that we often escaped the worst of the temps, and considering it was only spring, clearly, the weather was as pissed off as I was.

At least I’d chosen wisely in the clothing department, wearing cutoff denim shorts, a black tank, and flipflops. I’d also gone with the zero makeup mom-bun look, which was the easiest way to tame the absolute mess of hair I had going on. I wasn’t sure when it had happened, but my hair was acting as strange as my life, channeling Rapunzel so that it was twice as thick as normal, not to mention down past my ass.

Torin wanted me to cut it. He’d mentioned more than once that my hair was a little out of control, so, of course, I took great pleasure in canceling every appointment he made with our local hairdresser. The fucking arrogance of that alpha, thinking he could dictate the length of my hair. Thanks to his archaic attitude, I would see the ends literally drag on the ground before I cut it to please him. Yep, there I went, showing him the one thing that truly controlled me.

My pride.

As I got closer to town, the foot and car traffic picked up, and every shifter who passed me waved and called out a greeting. My first instinct when pack members came close to me was to make myself small and get off the main path. A survival instinct that I’d no doubt never get rid of. Torma was a trigger for me, holding so many memories that I wished I’d lost. At least I had a plan now to escape; I just had a few little issues to clear up first.

When I reached the street, I stopped at the first shop: Baked Buns. It was a fantastic little bakery that had old-school red brick across its frontage and huge woodfire ovens lining the back walls, so everyone could see the delicious treats baking.

When I stepped through the door, the scents near killed me as my stomach grumbled and growled. Normally, I’d never have the money to spend on treats, not even as the alpha-mate because I refused to accept any of Torin’s “support.” But thankfully, during one of my tiny little rage-blackouts in my mom’s apartment when I’d trashed a bunch of shit, I’d found a packet of cash in an old cushion. Must have been one of my hiding places that I’d forgotten about.