Page 51 of Pack Owned
I barrel through the mansion, each empty room a taunt, each silent corner a tightening noose. Fucking desperation drives me down corridors like I have a rapid dog on my heels. I slam another door open, leaving a dent in the wall.
“Kayla!” I bellow, her name ripping out of me.
Gotta find her before I go fucking crazy. My fists are clenched so tight, my fucking nails are digging into my palms. Warm blood trickles down, metallic and strong, but I barely feel a goddamn thing except the burn to have her in my arms.
I need to find her before this panic chews me up from the inside out.
“Kayla!” My throat burns from shouting her name.
I pound on Dane’s door next, praying like fucking hell she’s inside with him.
He opens the door with a gun and a cleaning cloth in his hand. “The fuck, Liam?”
“Kayla,” I growl. “She’s gone.”
“Are you sure? She was with us at breakfast.” Dane wipes the oil off his fingers onto his rag, his movements precise, controlled—everything I’m not feeling right now.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. I’ve searched everywhere twice.”
Dane pales. “Shit. I did see her heading for the front door this morning before I stopped her.”
“Have you seen Ryker?” My voice is almost a snarl now. What if she went outside and he saw her? Decided to turn her in, despite my and Dane’s protest to keep his precious reputation intact?
He shakes his head. “Not since last night. Let’s check his room.”
Together, we head there, Dane tucking his gun into the waistband of his camo pants.
I don’t bother knocking, but burst into Ryker’s bedroom. His bed is unmade, and we both know he’s a ‘make your bed first thing in the morning’ kinda guy.
“Shit.” My pulse hammers. I don’t need to explain; Dane knows what this means. “We need to look for them. Now. Check the grounds.”
Without another word, we rush outside, and our boots crush the gravel beneath our feet. Outside, the sun’s a sadistic bastard today, as though it’s trying to melt into the goddamn pavement.
“Kayla!” we shout in unison, voices desperate, commanding.
“Ryker!” I add, the name tasting like betrayal on my tongue.
I can’t lose Kayla. Not when every instinct screams that she belongs with us—with me. She’s my Omega, and I’m her Alpha.
“Cameras,” I bark. “We can check the damn cameras.”
Dane nods, silent, his expression grave. I pull out my cell, fingers jabbing at the keyboard with frantic urgency, but the screen blinks back at me, obstinate, with an error message. No fucking connection. Of course, the internet chooses now to crap out on us.
“Son of a bitch!” The curse tears from my throat, raw and savage.
“Ryker,” Dane suggests, eyes flicking to me with a glimmer of hope. “He might know something.”
I whip out my phone, punching Ryker’s number with movements so forceful, I nearly crack the screen. It rings—a mocking, hollow sound—then his voicemail greets me, impersonal and indifferent. I don’t bother with pleasantries.
“Ryker, where the fuck are you? Kayla’s missing.” My words are bullets. “Call me back. Now.” I end the call, shoving the phone back into my pocket. Panic claws up my inside. Kayla. She’s mine, goddammit. Ours. And nothing in this world or the next will stop me from finding her.
A second later, the rumble of an engine slices through the air. My instincts flare to life as I jog over to the gate. It swings open, and there he is—Ryker, riding in on his goddamn bike like he’s the king of the road, and no Kayla.
“Where the hell have you been?” I snarl, my voice venomous as I storm toward him. Anger surges, hot and potent, thinking he might’ve taken her to Nexus.
“Chill, Liam,” Ryker says, killing the engine and swinging his leg over the bike with an infuriating calm that right now just pisses me off more.
“Where’s Kayla?” My fists clench, ready to unleash the fury boiling in my veins. “You take her for one of your joyrides and turn her in?”
