Page 119 of Claimed

To say Cat looks alarmed is an understatement.

I also tell her we’ve lost at least another twenty-five per cent of our pack over the last few months as many have fled. They’ve fled hunger and infertility and dirty drinking water. They’ve fled Wyatt because he’s greedy and meaner than a honey badger.

Cat reassures with a squeeze of my shoulder, “I’ve got first aid supplies, medicines, and I’ve brought a dozen cases of water.Plus some food. Look.” She rises and I follow her to the van, which she opens to show me is full of supplies.

She explains, “We make sure to use up what’s in our emergency cache and refresh it every eighteen months or so to make sure we don’t have a bunch of inedible expired foods. It was just about time to rotate out again, so I brought a whack of things and have already sent a text message to Cicely to order replacement supplies. We’ve got some bags of rice, cases of soup, fruit, fish, and some freeze-dried meat, Some dry goods like pasta, granola, and nuts and jerky. I think I also brought tea, sugar, coffee, some meal replacement drinks, too. Plus a whack of paper goods and soap.”

“I’m gonna cry again,” I warn, fanning my face.

She waves her hand like it’s nothing when really, it’s going to mean everything to the people here.

“Once we see what’s what, I can send some of the boys out for more of whatever we need,” she adds.

I’m overwhelmed by the kindness.

“Can I ask a question?” I twine my fingers nervously.

“Absolutely,” she replies with an open, kind expression.

“Grey thinks I was in heat the other night. I’m… worried that if he got me pregnant, whatever has made it so the women have miscarried or had stillbirths … could it harm my ability to… grow our baby?” I hold my stomach. “I don’t know if I was in heat, if there’s a chance a baby is growing in me or not, but… I’m scared.”

“You’re eating well, feeling well?” she asks. “Shifting regularly?”

“Never better,” I tell her, and it’s true. “And yes. Wyatt doesn’t allow shifting without permission, which might also contributeto the level of illness around here, but I’ve been shifting often since being with Grey.”

I’ve been eating properly, drinking clean water, shifting and exercising. I feel stronger, better physically than maybe ever.

“Glad Greyson is taking good care of his mate. I had no doubts he would. But when we get home, let’s put you on some prenatal vitamins immediately just for extra peace of mind. If you have conceived, we’ll know pretty soon and I can do an ultrasound, blood tests, check everything out and make certain all is progressing the way it’s intended.”

“Thank you,” I breathe out.

She grabs my hand and squeezes it affectionately, showing she understands my concern, but I spot Gus shuffling from the corner of my eye and realize that though the non-alpha men waiting around are in conversation with one another, Gus heard. It’s written all over his body language. And this is why I won’t ask Cat Savage the other question I have right now.

34

Grey

On high alert, we trudge through overgrown grass assessing sights, sounds, scents. The closer we get to the main building and gates of this place the stronger the odors get. And Linc’s correct. It smells of death.

“I’m not bringing my wife in there until I know what this is. I’m lead on this,” I remind Mitch who was given the gist before I arrived, but I want to be sure he knows.

“I’m only here to film everything and help where I can,” Mitch says. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because with everything that happened last night and the night before that, I have a lot of reporting to do and I want as much physical evidence as possible. This bugger has a lot to answer for. I’m just an observer. You’re in charge, Greyson. This is your mate’s pack, and you call the shots.”

I don’t give a shit that everything is about to be filmed. “Let’s do this.”

I also don’t give two fucks about The SCC right now.

I had planned to go in with her and Luke so we’d put people at ease, but Luke will have to be enough for the ‘at ease’ part. No way am I walking Stacy in there until I’ve assessed it with my own eyes. And I was leaning in that direction on the drive here before I set eyes on it. But now? Setting eyes and picking up the filthy stench of this place? No fucking way does she go in until I assess.

The gates start on either side of the old, dingy, painted blue brick one-story building, fencing in everything behind it. Blinds are all down on the windows.

Some sections of the gates are constructed by chain link fence panels. Some of it, scrap metal. There’s a painted metal sign that readsSilver Hills Auto Wreckers and Salvagestenciled with the phone number underneath. A padlock holds the front gates closed with a black, white, and orangeSorry, We’re Closedsign hanging.

Wrecked cars behind the fences are stacked higher than the fences on either side of the building.

We’re all primed and ready to shift, to do battle, but it’s quiet. Eerily so, which has me even more on guard.

My eyes pan the ground, scanning for trip wires or other hazards since this fucker likes explosives. I’m flanked by Luke, Linc on his left, Jared beside Linc. Jase is on my right, Brody beside him. Mitch Blakely walks behind us, filming with his phone.

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