Page 48 of Pack Ruin
“Hey, Stan, I got one of your girls here. Her escort ran off into the woods, left her by one of the piles.”
The red-haired guard moved closer, eyeing Flor. “Which floor are you on?”
One of the women waiting by the door spoke up. “Lor, there you are. Better hurry, Holly’s gonna whip you bloody for bein’ late. Both of us, if we ain’t careful.” Before I could wonder at the name she’d called my mate, the blonde had looped an arm through Flor’s. The stranger twirled her pale hair around one finger in the worst pretense of flirting I’d ever seen, batting herlashes at the door guard. “Let us in quick, and I’ll see if I can slip back down later and make it up to ya.”
The red-haired male licked his lips and reached out to grab her, but the other guard growled. “Let ‘em go, Stan.”
“Thanks, Iris,” Flor muttered, glancing over her shoulder at me. I took one step toward her. She lifted her hand and scratched her nose with her middle finger. Then she did it again.
I froze. Was she… telling me to fuck off?
The finger changed to a thumb, pointing in the direction of the Pack House. Then, sending a burst of emotions down our bond that was equal parts impatience, encouragement, and trepidation, she entered the dorm.
I almost smiled. The little minx was confident enough for both of us. I hoped she was right to feel that way. I waited three minutes before I slipped back into the deepest shadows I could find, and went in search of Luke.
Finding him was easier than I’d thought. The Pack House wasn’t a mansion by any stretch, just a sprawling ranch-style house with one story, if you didn’t count the holding cells in the basement. I was slinking along the outside of the building, listening for guards and taking in the slightly foul scents of Southern when I smelled Luke.
Well, I smelled Luke, blood, and something else: a crisp ozone scent I’d noticed in the woods at Northern when we were hunting the rogues, and then again when I’d recovered from the attack delivered by General Ivan.
Magic.
I stopped and sniffed at the windowsill. The window was slightly open, and when I went up on two paws, I could see a man—or a corpse—in bed, covered only with a sheet, and about the same shade.
Hang on, Luke, I thought, and began to shift. I’d need hands to open the window. My change was swift and nearly painless,and as silent as it could be, the sounds of the bones breaking and reforming as quiet as dry leaves blowing on pavement.
As I straightened and reached for the window, I felt distant twinges in the bond with Flor, and focused. She wasn’t scared, but in a little pain, and a lot angry. Most likely Finnick was still pulling some shit I would eventually beat his ass for, if Brand didn’t get there first.
I went still, listening for others, then opened the window and vaulted through. My feet made a soft thudding noise, right before the floorboard I’d landed on creaked.
Oh shit.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, approaching fast. I ran to the door and stood behind it, cursing myself for a fool. But a voice called out down the hall, “Shaun, tell Torran we have a report of a shifter outside the fence line. We found tracks, a decent trail for once.”
The footsteps retreated. After a long moment, I approached the bed and stared down at the man who had been a friend, if not a close one. Of course, now I knew why he hadn’t been closer, why he alone of all of us hadn’t been able to bond with the other Heirs and foster at all the packs. It hadn’t just been Callaway keeping his Heir close.
Back then, I’d thought Luke was weak, before I’d learned the truth. Somehow, Luke had known Flor was his mate since he was ten. He’d been separated from her again and again, sometimes for days or weeks, sometimes by thousands of miles. He’d been forbidden to shift for years at a time, to weaken him. And still, he was alive. Fighting to be at her side.
I wasn’t certain I’d have been able to survive such a long separation from my mate, especially before we’d exchanged mating bites. I wasn’t at all sure how Luke had managed to, even before whatever Brand had done—whatever had turned his eyes white—to funnel strength all the way to Southern.
I laid a hand on his forehead, shocked at how cold he felt, like he was already dead. “She’s here, Luke. She’s here, and I’m going to take you to her.”
“Not alone,” a raspy voice replied, just as a whip made of fire wrapped itself around my ankles and dragged me to my knees, and then the floor.
I was frozen, unable to move a single muscle, even to blink, though all I wanted to do was close my eyes when I saw what had me.
It was a demon with glowing red eyes, wrapped in darkness, lying in wait under the bed. As I stared, helpless, it inched closer, placing one clawed hand on my face. “Ssssso young,” it hissed as its talons sank into my hair. “Ssstrong.”
Fuck.
23
Home Sweet Home
FLOR
“Walk fast, keep your head down, and don’t make eye contact with any of the males,” the blonde shifter at my side whispered as we hurried past the door guards, her voice almost too quiet to hear.
I knew this woman, or I had, when she was a girl. Her name was Iris, and she’d been the closest thing I’d had to a friend back when we were both eight years old.
