Page 58 of Pack Ruin
Luke’s whisper was as close to a wolf’s growl as I’d ever heard a human sound. I pulled on a thread of my power to wrapsilence around us, ignoring Glen’s disgruntled complaint as it took energy from him as well. Luke repeated his silent question, his voice raspy with disuse. “Where is my mate?” His wolf was challenging mine, meeting my gaze. And to my surprise, holding it.
“She is close. She came to rescue you.”
“We both did,” Glen added.
Luke’s head swung around, and the tension in his body, along with the threat of imminent attack that had been present, dropped away. “Glen?” He sniffed, taking in his friend’s changed scent. “You… You’re her mate?”
“We all are,” Glen whispered, almost cheerfully. “At least, I am, and Brand. Finn and she are… complicated, but claimed. You and Joaquin here are the only two who can’t technically call her your mate yet—oh, okay, let’s not get carried away.” Luke and I had both turned to him, snarling, at the same instant.
“His name isn’t Joaquin,” Luke hissed, as I stood next to the bed, slightly dizzy from the magic I had performed with the new bindings. “It’s Grigor Dimitrivich. And if you think I’ll let you within a hundred feet of my mate, you are sorely mistaken.”
I stopped for a moment, wondering how Flor would feel about one more bouquet. A large one, made of Luke’s entrails. I forced myself to remember the dream, or vision. He had saved my little queen, and I had—foolishly, perhaps—tied him to me. I suppose I had to let him live.
“I will not pretend that I am worthy of her. But you allowed her to suffer for years. You allowed the ones who hurt her, who terrorized her, to live. I do not need your permission to continue to court the one whose soul is bound to all of us. And if you try to keep me from her, may the moon have mercy on you. Because I will not.”
“Good talk,” Glen interrupted. “Luke, we don’t have time to measure dicks or dominance. Flor’s somewhere alone in thecompound. She’s trying to get the women and girls out.” We both glared at him.
“What?” I muttered just as Luke demanded, “You left heralone?”
Glen let out an exasperated breath and headed for the window. “We ran into a guard. She still had her ear tag, so he thought?—”
“Why? Why would she keep it? Didn’t she earn her rank at Northern?” Luke rose slowly to his feet. “Shit, how long was I out?” His legs were shaky, and I slung an arm around his waist to keep him from falling.
Glen opened his mouth to answer just as a cry went up somewhere in the Pack House. “There’s an intruder! An Enforcer has been killed!”
“Oh, fuck,” he sighed.
We moved quickly, Glen in front. I helped Luke stay on his feet while Glen opened the window once more. “I know a place we can hide, not far—” Luke began in a whisper.
“The storm drain,” I finished, plucking the image out of his thoughts. “Where our mate hid before her fight.”
He curled his lip. “Yes.”
Glen helped him out the window, and I followed, using the magic I had to keep our passage quiet, and encourage the Enforcers who might see us to look in another direction. It was a simple piece of magic, in normal circumstances. But I had never attempted it with three, and with my power so drained.
I kept the spell unspooling around us as we staggered from one shadow to the next. Enforcers ran mere yards away, and even if some in their wolf forms sniffed at the air, they ran to the fence. To the forest.
I found myself smiling, though blood trickled from my nose as I depleted my strength once again to cover us as Glen worked at the bolts on one side of the circular metal drain cover.
I could smell her. My little queen wasn’t in the forest. She was here, with us, now.
And her heart was breaking.
27
Confessions in the Dark
FLOR
If I hadn’t immediately known who was coming into my hiding place as I felt them approach, I would have been terrified. But Iknew them all.
Glen and Luke… and Grigor. Glen’s bond was bright and strong, but the odd connection I felt with Luke still buzzed with a draining sensation. And Grigor. His power was dimmed, somehow.
I watched the cover of the storm drain move away with no noise at all, the silence so absolute I recognized it as magical. Then the faint light from outside was obscured by three bodies, dropping one after the other into the tunnel. But I wasn’t afraid. I was grateful.
“Dream Girl?” Glen whispered. “Are you?—”
I scrambled across the damp tunnel floor on my hands and knees, my arms tangling with Glen’s as he caught me. He held me as I cried, murmuring soft words of comfort. I would have stayed there for hours, except a voice filled with a rage so palpable and dark it felt thick in the air distracted me.
