Page 111 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
The man strikes Alex, sending the boy stumbling. That’s when Fiona appears in the frame, acting with deadly determination. She has a brick in her hand and brings it down on the back of the man’s skull without hesitation.
My wolf preens with vicious satisfaction. That’s my mate.
She helps Alex to his feet, and the two of them flee back inside. The man recovers faster than I would have expected, staggering to his feet as Fiona and Alex disappear.
The next sequence makes my blood turn to ice.
Fiona and Alex rush back into the café, but they’re not alone. The interior cameras show Olivia moving calmly to unlock the front door, admitting the injured man. There’s no surprise on her face, no fear. She knew he was coming.
Dylan appears behind Fiona with something in his hand—a blackjack or similar weapon. He strikes her on the head before she can react, and she crumples. Alex lunges toward her, shouting something I can’t hear, but the man from the alley restrains him easily.
Three against two, with the element of betrayal on their side. Fiona never had a chance.
I watch in helpless fury as they drag both Fiona’s unconscious form and Alex toward the back exit. The cameras there are angled away from the alley’s entrance, so I can’t see what vehicle they used or which direction they went.
But I can see the man’s face clearly now, and recognition hits me like a sledgehammer.
Mathew. The Silver Ring scientist, the one who befriended Maya years ago only to dose her with the compound that activated her shifter gene. We hoped he’d died in the relatively recent fall of one of their facilities, but apparently, he survived.
So, this isn’t the new organization of artificial shifters after all. It’s the Silver Ring. What does this mean? Are the twoorganizations working together? Or is it the Silver Ring that has been targeting Fiona all along?
My phone rings—Griffin.
“I’ve got the vehicle,” he says without preamble. “Security cameras picked up a white van leaving your area approximately ninety minutes ago. License plate matches a rental from the next town over.”
“Where are they now?”
“GPS tracking puts them heading east on Highway 52. They’re not trying to hide their route, Erik. Either they’re confident they can’t be followed, or...”
“Or it’s another trap,” I finish his thought. “They want us to chase them.”
“Probably. But what choice do we have?”
None. Even knowing it’s likely a setup, I can’t abandon Fiona. The bond won’t let me, and more than that, she’s mine to protect. I failed her once by leaving; I won’t fail her again.
“I’m going after them,” I say, already heading for my car. “Send backup, but don’t let them get too close. If this is the Silver Ring, they’ll have contingencies.”
As I dial Hayes, my hands are steady even though my wolf is clawing at my insides, demanding I charge headlong after the van. But charging blindly will only get Fiona killed.
“Commander,” Hayes answers on the first ring.
“I need everything on that rental van—who picked it up, how they paid. And run background checks on two people from the café.” I give him quick descriptions of Olivia and Dylan, including what they were wearing in the security footage. “Something’s off about them. Check Silver Ring files.”
“What about the kid?”
Alex. The boy Fiona trusted, cared for, treated like family. Either he’s another victim or another plant. “Him, too. I want to know where he came from.”
“How fast do you need this?”
“Twenty minutes,” I say as I get in the car. Hayes is good, but even twenty minutes feels like forever when every second could mean the difference between life and death.
I end the call and press hard on the accelerator. The bond continues to pulse with distress—not panic, which would mean immediate danger, but steady fear and anger that tells me Fiona is alive and fighting. That knowledge is the only thing keeping me functional.
My phone buzzes: Found the van. Heading toward old industrial area, forty miles northeast. Looks small—maybe too small.
Too small. The Silver Ring doesn’t do small operations, especially not for someone like Fiona. This screams “trap,” but what choice do I have?
Another message: Background checks coming in. You won’t like this.
