Page 151 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
He sprints out of the room as Hardy scoops me up in his arms.
“You’re going to be just fine,” Silver reassures me, placing his cool palm against my now scorching forehead.
“But Nate,” I sob, “and Axel and Angel.”
Silver opens his mouth to reply, always ready to reassure me.
The words don’t leave his mouth. Instead, a loud bang rocks the floor. Hardy stumbles with me in his arms, his gaze flicking immediately to Silver’s. Someone shouts out in the hallway, the noise followed by a gunshot.
I scream, wincing as a second gunshot rings out.
“Get her to the nest,” Silver yells at Hardy. Hardy nods.
Silver reaches into his jacket to grab his gun for the second time today, but it’s not there. In all the confusion with Mrs. Stormgate he must have left it in her room. His eyes widen with alarm for the briefest of seconds but then he’s running towards the door.
“Get her to the nest, Hardy, and lock the fucking door!”
Hardy tightens his hold on my body and sprints, running towards a small door in the lounge I’ve never seen used before. He slams it open with one firm kick of his foot and carries me through to a small back stairway.
“Hardy!” I yell, “he hasn’t got a gun.” I struggle in his arms. “We have to help him. We have to help Connor.”
I don’t know what the hell is going on, but whatever it is, I know it’s not good.
“Omega,” Hardy says so sternly my spine stiffens, “we’re under attack. Silver knows how to take care of himself. There is nothing you can do to help. Just hold on tight.”
He races up the stairs three at a time, my weight not hindering him at all. His feet clatter loudly on the old wooden steps that groan and creak under us. But despite the noise, I can hear more gunshots, more shouting and more yelling.
I cling to Hardy’s neck, closing my eyes tight. My alpha smashes through another doorway and races out onto the landing of the third floor. Below us the sounds of men fighting are even louder now and I whimper in alarm.
Hardy drops me to my feet and taking a hold of my wrist drags me quickly along the hallway to the nest door.
“What’s the number?” he curses under his breath. “Damn it!”
I push him out of the way and start to type numbers in. Behind us, many pairs of heavy boots thunder on the main staircase.
I press the last digit. The panel lights up, beeping positively. The locks click, the door opens.
“Get inside and shut the door,” Hardy orders, turning his back to me. “And don’t you dare open it unless you’re damn sure it’s–”
An object crashes on the floor in front of us. It spins on the spot, then hisses, rolling toward us.
“Bea!” Hardy yells.
A second loud bang.
A cloud of smoke consumes us.
I can’t see.
I can’t breathe.
I cough.
Thick soup-like fog envelops me.
My eyes stream.
I try to shout Hardy’s name.
