Kennedy’s wolf is not going to listen to me. He’s a beast, and he’d never leave us undefended.
“Do it, or we kill it.” He snaps, and six Last Pack wolves stalk forward, so close that their musky filth burns my nose. Kennedy’s wolf bares his teeth, and he doesn’t give an inch, but he knows he’s outnumbered.
“Now, or I put it down.” Eamon’s cold, rheumy eyes bore into mine. He’s not bluffing.
Anger and fear make my voice tremble. “Shift back.”
By some miracle, she does. Kennedy pops straight to her feet, fists balled, guarding us with her body as if she were still in her fur. She is a fierce wolf.
Eamon laughs and calls over to the castaway. “Justus, you sure you don’t want the broken one, too? She can control the others for you.”
Justus spits and then scratches his hairy chest. “No. We trade for unmated females. She stinks like alpha.” Justus shuffles closer and sniffs the air. “And you promised us three. There are only two.”
“You can fuck the freak in her human skin just fine.”
“Not talking about the blessed one. Talking about the blonde.” He points at Mari.
Mari’s not mated.
I glance at her. Her eyes are downcast. Her cheeks are pink.
Mari’s mated?
No way. I’d know.
“Take her anyway,” Eamon says, sneering. “She might not bear y’all pups, but that means you’ll get more use out of her, right?”
Mari sobs. I stiffen my spine, praying she sees and follows suit. Already, there are a dozen yellow-eyed wolves tracking her, salivating. Her fear even tickles my nose.
Get mad, girls. Get mad, I think at them as hard as I can. I wish I was magical like Abertha.
I need magic to get out of this shit.
They’re going to ambush Killian, and of course, he’ll kill them all, but what will happen to my girls while he does?
“You got so many you can use them thus?” Justus spits in the dirt and stalks back to his wolves, grumbling.
Eamon shrugs at Lochlan, and they wander off to sit on a log beside a cold fire pit, knives in their hands. Last Pack and a half dozen males, including Finn and Alfie, lounge around the clearing. In the woods beyond, I scent more Last Pack and a handful of other A-roster males and elders. And Fallon.
That traitorous rat.
That idiot.
What did they promise him? A shortcut to A-roster? He’d fall for it. He’s always wanted more, faster, easier.
After he helped Lochlan dump me at Eamon’s feet, he scurried off to hide. After this, I’m going to bring him back to life to beat him to death with my shoe.
The girls were already here when I arrived. They’re bruised and shaken and scared out of their wits, but there’s no sign they were in the fire. It must have been a distraction.
This was clearly an elaborate plot, and it’s going to fail so quickly, if I blink, I’ll miss it—if I don’t get killed in the chaos when Killian attacks.
The males in the woods are trying to hide their scents with pine needles and acorns, but Killian won’t be fooled. He won’t come in his human skin, and his wolf isn’t going to fall for hunter tricks. He is the predator. This is going to be a bloodbath.
Have they not been watching Killian all these years? It doesn’t matter if they outnumber him twenty to one. He’s a monster, and he is relentless.
And he saved himself for me. Kind of. And he apologized to me sincerely. And he remade my nest.
And he’s a backwards Neandertal who loses his marbles when he finds out a grown ass woman had a lover or two.
Did he think I was home crocheting all this time?
I mean, I was. A lot. My escapades were few and far between. I wasn’t sneaking off into the bushes after every moonlight swim like his cousin Ashlynn does. No judgement, not from me, but damn, Killian is as big a hypocrite as any male in this pack.
Of course, he is. He’s the alpha. And I got caught up in his scent and his muscles and his growly “mine” bullshit that I forgot that I know who I’m dealing with.
Killian Kelly has always been a caveman, and if I had any pride, I would sit back and watch the Quarry Pack’s version of the Roman Senate try to “et tu, Brute” his ass.
Except accidents happen. Fate is capricious. What if he gets hurt?
I need him.
And—maybe something else.
He did ruin a magical moment back at his cabin. Again.
In the nest, I’d been perfectly content for the first time since I was a very little girl. I was where I belonged. Knotted and held by my mate who belongs to me. My leg hardly ached at all. I’d been lost in a hazy daydream.
I had a family. A place. A person. I had actually been eyeing Killian’s throat. I was going to bite him. I would have if he hadn’t thrown a temper tantrum because we’re not living in the nineteenth century anymore.
But he did.
And then he came back.
And he tried to make amends.
Because despite what he’s about to do to these males, he isn’t a monster.
He’s mine.
And he knows exactly where I am.
Our bond is hella strong now. I can’t shut it off. It’s like a troglodyte newsfeed. Find. Kill. Destroy.
He’s getting closer every second.
I called him when Fallon threw me onto the ATV. I did it without hesitation. Killian will come for me, and he’ll prevail.
He’ll know he’s walking into a trap. This isn’t high quality plotting the Byrnes are doing. It’s about what you’d expect from males who get their heads knocked around for a living.
At first, in the panic of the moment, I worried the bond wouldn’t work, but it’s not delicate anymore. It’s as sturdy as a sweet potato vine. Tender and new, yes, but when I reach out, Killian’s there. All of him. Like I’m a glass bottom boat in his brain.
I don’t think he’s entirely aware. If he was, he’d hide some stuff.
I can see everything. I’m trying hard not to, but it’s just there. And the Byrnes are sitting quietly, picking at their claws, and the other males are squatting, scratching their balls. The silence is jangling my nerves.
I try to stay mad. If I stop for a second, I’m scared. My wolf is not big or strong. She’s no match for any of the males here. Killian is fast, but he’s not supersonic.
I think Fallon would help me if it came down to it, but I can’t believe he got pulled into this nonsense in the first place. He clung to me so much when I lived with the Campbells because he’s the fourth of five kids, and he was pretty much neglected. I bet Eamon and Lochlan paid him lots of attention. Fed him a bunch of garbage. And they’re going to get him killed.
My anger surges, and my wolf grumbles. I swallow the sound. I have to keep cool. Soon enough, everything’s going to go down, and I need to be clear-headed. I need a distraction.
The bond is right there.
Wide open.
I shouldn’t.
But I want to.
I find the cord and follow it, wading through the blare of Killian’s current panic. When I’m all the way in, I peek around, peering into his dark, cobwebby corners. It’s not pretty.