Page 99 of Entombed By Blood
“Something like that,” I reply, yet the silence which follows pressures me into confessing: “When I close my eyes, I’m back in the coffin. All I can hear are Immy’s screams.”
“Gideon won’t let her die,” Finn promises me. “He’s a good alpha. He looks after his own.”
It isn’t until both of them are snoring on either side of me that I whisper, “But Immy isn’t his own.”
If push comes to shove, and Gideon has to choose between Immy and Vane, he’ll choose Vane.
What worries me the most is... I might too.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Frost
It takesall of my willpower to ignore the scent of sex and blood coming from down the hall. This cabin is too damn small and listening to Eve’s cries of pleasure is the worst kind of torture.
In the end, I seal myself into the office and pore over the maps of New York over and over again. I stay in there even after night has fallen and the others have left to join Echo’s pack on their run.
The full moon has been on Cain’s side this time. There’s no way we can pull off a rescue mission with the majority of our players out of action—even if Eve’s happy and eager to throw herself into the fire.
My hands tighten into fists at the memory.
I’ll support my girl however she needs me to—walk through fire to prove myself to her if she asks—but I’m secretly glad the others talked her out of walking up to the doors of the Lycan Compound. Perhaps she’s right, and Morwenna would happily hand over Vane and information at the drop of a hat. But she only has Draven and me as backup if she’s wrong, and—as much as it galls me to admit it—we’re not enough against the bulk of Cain’s lycan forces.
That she was even willing to attempt it is yet another sign of the old Eve coming back.
I sigh and shake off my musing, turning back to the reports flickering across the tablet in front of me. Daydreaming about Eve isn’t going to solve anything.
As far as I can tell, we have three key problems. Vane is the obvious one, and I snarl under my breath at the thought of him held prisoner, as I was. Draven and I have first-hand experience of Cain and his daughters’ hospitality, and neither of us wants Vane to suffer as we did.
The second is that Cain has Imogen, and Eve will never help us if there’s a risk of her sister coming to harm. He knows it, and that’s why he’s still pushing that broadcast out every hour.
The final problem is that we have no idea how Morwenna and her people found us. I don’t want to believe we have a traitor, but staying with Echo’s pack is beginning to make me uncomfortable. The fewer people who know where we are, the better. The second the full moon is over, I want us out of here.
But where do we go after that? Home, to our base in the mountains? Or somewhere else?
Fuck, Gideon is the planner, not me. Before he and his pack found me, all I was doing was reacting to Cain’s moves. As much as the resistance considers me their leader, I wouldn’t be without that lycan.
But my co-alpha is busy howling at the fucking moon, and we’re running out of time.
As if my thoughts have summoned him, the door opens and he strides in, stinking of sweat and looking ragged.
“Fuck, it’s dawn already?” Have I really been staring at this table for that long?
He gives me a terse nod and collapses onto the seat across from me. “Any ideas?”
I shake my head. “Only one, and you’ll hate it.”
“At this point, I’ll take anything.”
“We attend Cain’s gala.”
His head thumps onto the table with a dull clunk. “Anything withinreason, Frost.”
“He’s basically given us an open fucking invitation,” I argue. “Watch the latest footage. They’re going on and on about how Cain’s returning in hours with Imogen.”
“Security will be insane. Facial recognition will pick us up the second we’re—”
I grin as I cut him off mid-tirade. “It’s a masked ball.”
