Page 6 of Pack Ruin
I hesitated for an instant, but her pain tore at me. Quickly, I did what I had to do to save her and the rest of her mates.
Someone would die for this. Some witch had done this to the worthless mate, and endangered my little one, my bright shadow. I had to stay, and be the tool for her vengeance.
Incensed, my long-rabid inner wolf foamed at the mouth, snapping invisible teeth at the delay.
I slipped down the tree in silence, moving without leaving a single footprint or hint of my scent, and headed straight for the festering heart of the Southern pack.
Maybe I would save the witch’s teeth and make them into beads for my little blade to wear. She would like that, I was certain.
So many courting gifts, my sweet one. Such an expensive little mate.
Just as you should be.
4
Assumptions
FLOR
Iwoke with a gasp that turned into a sob.
Luke was dead. I’d felt him slip away, heard his wolf’s howl cut off and somehow, even without a completed mate bond, knew a part of my own soul had gone dead. I’d thought I would die, too. Then I’d sensed… Someone had stopped me from following him into the darkness.
Who?In my next breath, I had my answer.
“Flor?” Brand’s voice opened my eyes, though light from somewhere had me slamming them shut again.
“Too bright,” I rasped, the feeling of nails being driven into my skull easing when the light dimmed. I struggled to sit up, Brand’s warm hand somehow snuffing out the pain a bit more. Warmth and comfort radiated from the spot, and I braved the agony to turn my head toward him. He had a blue pottery mug in one hand, steam rising from it. It smelled of licorice and mint and something floral.
“An old family recipe for healing,” he said quietly. “My grandma made it for you.” He held the mug to my mouth, and I took a cautious sip.
“Your grandma?” I whispered.
“She’s been checking on you for the past two days. She was worried about you. We all were.”
“Two days?” He didn’t answer, just gave me another sip.
Brand had mentioned his family on the ride from Ontario. He had no siblings, but had always wanted some, although Glen and Finnick had filled that void once they were old enough to travel to each other’s packs. Still, he had four cousins, an aunt and uncle, one grandfather, and two grandmothers, all living at Mountain, though not all of them lived in or even near the Alpha’s Den.
I would meet more of Brand’s family today. My family. The thought warmed me almost as much as the tea. I rubbed my eyes, took another sip, and turned back toward Brand to ask about his grandma.
But he turned to one side, hiding his face. Like he was ashamed, or angry.
Confused, I automatically reached for the bond between us, and flinched. It felt burned, like a fire had cauterized our connection somehow, the emotions numbed.I swallowed hard, wondering what had gone wrong.
Then I remembered. The river, the pain, the way my own life was draining out as Luke pulled on it. Pulled away.
“Luke is dead,” I whispered. But something about that seemed wrong. “Isn’t he?”
Brand let out a breath before he answered, his head still turned away. “I’m not sure. It felt like he died, or at least a part of him. I… connected with him through your bond. Even though neither of you claimed each other. It didn’t seem to matter. But Dad called Southern yesterday. He’s alive.”
“Your dad spoke to him?”
“No. He spoke to the guy in charge there, an Enforcer from Finnick’s pack. They have him breathing on human machines, staying in a room in the Pack House with a doctor from Eastern checking in on him, but he’s not responding. At least, that’s what the Council told Dad when they called here yesterday.”
A chill ran through me. “The Council called?”
“Aidan McDonnell himself.” An image of Finnick’s douchecanoe of a father popped into mind. I’d disliked him at first sight, after he made it clear he thought I was trash. “They had someone watching our border, maybe even tracking us as we drove here, and they saw us at the river. Dad would have kept it secret, but he had to admit that Glen was on our land.”
