Page 97 of Rocky Top

Not because we couldn’t.

But because we didn’t want to.

Chapter 25

Rocky

The next morning Birdie woke with a start. Hell, I was sore, from the attack, from the sex marathon. But I could feel her panic.

“What is it, Sunshine?”

“We’ve got to go to Eliza’s,” she said in a terror. She didn’t explain and I didn’t push as I followed her out to my Harley. There was no need to, I felt her resolve, the pull leading her to her best friend’s door.

The second I saw the empty swing set swayin’ in the breeze, I knew somethin’ was wrong.

The yard was too quiet as I parked my Harley.

Emma’s little pink sneakers were lyin’ on their side near the porch, like she’d kicked ’em off mid-play. But no Eliza callin’ from the kitchen window. No laughter. No Emma.

Just silence.

It settled over me like ash after a wildfire.

I stepped off my bike, boots hittin’ the gravel with a weight that made the whole world feel heavy. My wolf stirred, restless in my chest, hackles risin’.

Birdie came out the front door, face pale as bone china, eyes wide.

“She’s gone.”

Those two words dropped into my gut like lead.

“What?” I growled.

Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth, fightin’ back the kind of panic that could break a woman in half. “Eliza said she was just here. She was inside making lunch.”

I moved fast. Didn’t think. My boots hit the porch, past her, past the door, straight into the house. I scanned the rooms, sniffed the air. Her scent—sweet, innocent, full of childlike sunshine—lingered, but another one cut through it.

Rotten.

Familiar.

Whatever had attacked Birdie in the woods.

And Flint.

I turned, fists clenchin’ at my sides. “They took her.”

Birdie followed me in, breath shallow. “What?”

“I can smell ’em. That sorry traitor Flint. And the monster that attacked you in the woods.” My voice was rough, feral. I slammed a hand into the wall, wood splinterin’ beneath my knuckles. “They were workin’ together. I should’ve known.”

That’s when Birdie stumbled back, like the floor had tilted under her feet. Her body started shakin’. At first I thought it was fear, then I saw her eyes.

Glowing.

Not gold like mine. Not yet. But green with fire.

“Birdie.”

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