Page 120 of A Warrior's Fate

Broken—he seemed broken.

She listened with cracks forming in her chest as he explained how he couldn’t find his wife amongst the chaos. His mate. No matter how much he called, she wouldn’t call back. He couldn’t feel her there. The only thing left at the end of their bond was emptiness.

Isla knew what that meant—knew the man did too—but he couldn’t face it alone. Didn’t want to. In his shoes, she wouldn’t either.

Her gaze drifted to Kai. Through their own connection, she could sense rage and sorrow stirring within him. Though the emotions were also written clearly on his face. She wondered how much of it felt personal. Especially now. Now that they’d…

Goddess—what had just happened?

“I’ll help you find her,” Kai told him before turning to Isla.

Her heart wrenched.

“I’ll do what I can,” she said, eyes flicking between them. She didn’t know if Kai wanted her to remain by his side—she didn’t know if she wanted to remain by his side—but she knew what she needed to do in order to be the most effective. To aid more people. If she’d learned anything from Lukas and the Hunt.

She turned to shift and descend into the mayhem, but then gasped as she felt the warmth of a hand around hers.

Swallowing thickly, she spun back to Kai, sensing those golden workings of her, not caressed by, but weaving with those of darkness. Drawn taut and ready to be strummed and played along like an aria among them.

Mate.

She expected him to tell her no. Tell her to stay with him. For them to waste time in a spat about it. But he didn’t.

A reluctance and worry shone in Kai’s eyes as he told her in parting, “See if you can find my mother.”

He let her go. He knew he had to. For the safety of his people in attendance, he needed her out there, doing what she was here to do: protect his pack. They had to put themselves aside, whatever lay between them aside, for all else.

Isla nodded. “I will.”

And squandering no more precious seconds amidst the cruel backdrop, they both went on to shift, their fine clothes left as tattered fabric and Isla’s jewelry clattering to the courtyard stone.

As she came down on her paws, shaking out her fur, senses sharp and honed in on the scent of blood—of the injured, of the dead—and the ghastly stench of rogues, Isla turned to her mate once more. Crimson eyes met hers—the soft hue of white-blue—appearing menacing and lethal, but Isla could find Kai beneath. Could feel the lingering essence of him that rang in time with her.

In a fleeting moment, he stepped to her, and Isla savored in the closeness before they headed off in separate, equally perilous directions. Their final exchange, his voice, echoed in the back of her head.

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

Not fully formed but nowhere near close to being broken, the bond seemed even more volatile now than it ever had before. As the distance grew between them, Isla felt the twisting slow, but it didn’t stop, and yet at the same time, it continued to break away and fall apart.

She was all out of sorts—powered by adrenaline, anger, fear, but distracted and mystified by something otherworldly going on inside that she couldn’t put words to. And though now was certainly not the time for her to be discovering the inner machinations of a soulmate, she couldn’t keep her mind from drifting.

Form and break. Spin and fall. One connection, then two—but then none. Isla was both aware and unaware of where Kai stalked in relation to where she was—sensing him as the alpha, but also led by that tether to her mate.

Her mate…

Goddess.

Focus.

The rogues had targeted the ballroom.

Isla kept her muscles both tight and loose as she weaved through the bodies of the frenzied guests, clocking the wounded being dragged to safe corners to be tended to, silently praying for those unmoving on the stone to only be unconscious. Her stomach lurched at the thought of what that man was about to endure.

Focus.

Compared to those who were members of a pack, rogues bore little difference in appearance, in their human forms and in their shifts. It was their unkemptness that made the intruders stand out—their mangy fur, scarcely-fed bodies, or distinct scent—but they were easily lost amongst the ruckus. The guard was working two-fold to maintain order. Most stood off to the side—in the ballroom and out in the courtyard—to keep the hall entries blocked and protected, eyes scanning the chaos from their posts. If a rogue somehow got through to those many, many corridors—to the many rooms, many hiding places—then Goddess knew what could happen.

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