Page 78 of Pack Ruin
The Pack House was a frenzy of activity, and I was able to enter by the side door closest to Luke’s sickroom, carrying a basket of laundry. I kept my head down, but my senses alert.
There was something strange in the air, like a storm racing in. I heard others I passed whispering about “her,” their voices filled with awe.
Or terror.
It had to be the one Torran had spoken to on the phone. His mistress. I turned the corner just as the front door of the Pack House opened, and a tall woman with reddish-gray hair stepped inside. Torran was beside her, practically trembling with lust. She ignored him, and set her hand on the doorframe.
“Someone is inside,” she said. The cold power that filled those simple words had me stepping backward, slowly, trying not to draw attention to my movements.
But every other shifter in the entire house had gone still. Frozen by her power. I had made a terrible error, allowing myself to be this close to one like her, while I was so weak.
I had to get out,now.Had to get my little queen out, and her other mates. Had to?—
Too late. The woman pressed her hand into the doorframe, the wood giving under the pressure of her hand, and spoke three more words—in a blood-soaked, ancient language that told me exactly what she was.
A shield of power fell over the Pack House, trapping everyone inside.
Her voice was soft, almost gentle, as she spoke again. “An unexpected visitor. How fortuitous.” Then she turned, the gleam in her eyes razor-tipped and cruel, and I knew not only what she was, but who.
I used more power than I should to send a plea down the braided bond to Luke and Glen, begging them to listen, but she was always my priority. Even now.
Get her out. Now. GET HER OUT!
35
Bad Odds
FLOR
In one breath, Luke’s soul was humming, that silent music that had always started up when he touched me, but inside my innermost being.
In the next, the waves of passion turned to fear. “Grigor,” I gasped.
Luke was frozen above me, a smear of my blood still on his lower lip. “Someone’s hurting him,” he snarled, throwing himself off me and grabbing his clothing from the dresser. “At least I think so. He’s shut down the link between us.”
Glen opened the door, his face nearly white. “Not to me,” he said, gritting his teeth. Blood trickled from his nose. “I can’t—” He fell into my arms, and I staggered under his weight until Luke was there, rolling him onto the bed.
My Northern mate was shivering, almost like he was having a seizure. “Can I give him some of my strength?” I wondered aloud. I knew it was possible.
Luke and Glen both snapped, “No!” at the same moment.
Glen’s eyes were bloodshot, but he stopped shaking long enough to glare at me. “I’ve got this. Just need a minute. You get dressed. Find… weapons.”
“Hold on, brother. Hold on,” Luke muttered as he finished dressing. I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, Glen or Grigor.
I grabbed clean clothing from the drawer, knotting one of Del’s shirts at my waist, and pulling up two pairs of his boxers, tight-fitting ones this time. Luke was ahead of me in the kitchen, grabbing the knives. There were only three, not much bigger than paring knives, but at least they were all sharp.
Luke made me take one, keeping the other two for him and Glen. I tried to think, to plan. Three small knives weren’t enough to go charging into danger with. He had better weapons. “Maybe you should shift, and fight as a wolf?”
“There’s no time,” Luke admitted. “I’m slow. Not much practice.”
“Got it.” I thought about taking the broom from the closet, but it would be too noticeable, and would slow me down if I needed to run.
Glen appeared in the doorway again, holding onto both sides of the doorframe, like he couldn’t stay upright without help. He’d wiped the blood away, though, and looked less pale.
“Is Grigor doing better?”
“I don’t know. He found some way to cut me off.”
