The pantry had staples and a few snack-type foods, but I needed a meal. Preferably something with lots of carbs and some fats to give my body enough energy to heal. I stared into the fridge for a solid ten minutes before closing it. There were plenty of ingredients for meals, but nothing that I could grab and eat except for a sandwich. My fridges at home and at St. Ailbe’s always had stuff ready to go that I could just nuke. The idea of a fourth sandwich wasn’t appealing, but cooking sounded like a pain in the butt. And going down to the dining hall? No way. Just the thought of hanging out in the pack kitchens turned my stomach. I couldn’t go there. Not while I was hurt and one of them was actively trying to kill me.

I leaned back against the counter trying to think of what to do, but I kept coming back to the idea that I could just go and get something. Donovan would kill me if I left the stronghold alone, but I’d feel safer out with the humans than I did in here.

Bhrunyz was probably still out of commission, and whoever had the brooch wouldn’t know where I was going because I didn’t know where I was going. So, even if Bhrunyz was up for round two, the pack traitor wouldn’t know where to send him.

Plus, I thought best when I was out for a drive. Maybe I’d come up with something once I was out of here. I’d go, get food, and be back in an hour. Hour and a half, tops. Donovan was busy feeling along the pack bonds for the traitor. That was going to take a while. He’d never know that I left.

Good enough for me.

I scribbled a quick note for Donovan, just in case. Then I grabbed my coat, cell, and a credit card. As I shut the door quietly behind me, a thought crossed my mind. This could be a terrible idea. My stomach rumbled again, and I gave in. When has a bad idea ever stopped me from doing something before?

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

I had no idea where I was going. Literally, none. My maps app wouldn’t work, but I knew I was heading away from town. Eventually, I’d find food, and just wandering around Ireland was nice enough. Driving really did help me process. As soon as I’d gotten my driver’s license, I started taking these long trips, winding around the Texas Hill Country, taking farm road to farm road. I’d go until my tank got low, then fill up and head back to St. Ailbe’s. It was my way of coping when everyone else was shifting and doing pack things that I couldn’t do while cursed. Ever since then, when I needed to think, the car was my answer.