Page 86 of Pack Kasen: Part 3
There’s no sign of Wes or Marisa on the deck. They’re inside the house, or something else is happening elsewhere.
Movement captures my gaze.
22
KAT
Near the main house, a dark gray Honda approaches.
The vehicle is unfamiliar, and it is raising every single hair on the back of my neck.
My wolf hasn’t stopped growling at me that a threat is coming, and I’m reluctant to move away from the schoolroom door.
But I’m not worried about myself.
I’m afraid for anyone who puts themselves between me and Cristofer, and my nerves are screaming at me that this is Cristofer here for me. The last time Aren and Finan left the house to investigate trouble, nothing happened.
The likelihood of someone driving to the house soon after Aren and the other enforcers leave is so slim that this is definitely trouble.
I linger in the schoolroom doorway, unsure whether to stay and protect the pups or shift and investigate.
Aren was prepared for an attack, but he kept his voice down when he spoke to me, as if he didn’t want to worry the pups. If he truly believed trouble was on its way, the pups would not be in class. He would have stopped it and moved everyone to a place that's easy to defend.
“The sooner you figure out what it is, the sooner you have to act,” I murmur.
Sounds drift from the bunkhouse and the main house. The rest of the pack are going about their day, while I’m getting the growing sense that something bad is coming.
My gaze clashes with Marisa, who steps onto the deck.
She’s frowning.
“Kat?” Gregor steps out of the schoolroom, distracting me.
I twist to face him. “Stay here. I’m going to check this out. I won’t be long.”
He gives me a long look and nods. “Are you sure you should be going on your own?”
“I’m not going to fight,” I reassure him. “Just to see what it is. I’ll be back to help with the pups if it’s something bad.”
I’m half tempted to rush the kids from the schoolroom to the bunkhouse, but maybe that’s what Cristofer wants. And I don’t want to panic the kids for no reason if it’s just a delivery.
Gregor retreats to the schoolroom, shutting the door behind him, and I head toward the main house. I’m nearly there when I hear a twang followed by a growl of pain, and I start running.
Wes, a large brown wolf, is on the floor, a crossbow bolt in his shoulder, and a pool of blood forming under him. The driver’s side door of the dark gray Honda is open.
Cristofer climbs out of it, still holding the crossbow.
His gaze clashes with mine.
He no longer resembles the friendly library technician I thought of as a friend. He’s not wearing the glasses I doubt he ever needed, and there’s a hardness in his gaze that warns of looming trouble.
I briefly consider charging him. The distance between us stops me. I won’t make it across the distance before he reloads and shoots me. My stomach twists in remembered pain, and I’m in no hurry to experience it again.
My gaze flicks to Wes.
He’s injured and bleeding, yet his dark green eyes warn me to stay back.
Cristofer came here for me. I could go with him and end this, but I know Aren. Aren wouldn’t hesitate to come after me even if that meant stepping into a trap.
