Shocked, Riley was struggling to keep up. “You think my father was your true mate?”
“I know he was.” Shirley’s voice was like a whip. “He was mine, and she stole him from me. I had to watch them together. I told him he was my mate. He wouldn’t believe me and neither would she. She said I was just trying to break them up out of spite. I did try breaking them up after that, I really did, but—as he was so fond of saying—she was his world. They imprinted, and then they had you and you were both his world. Me? He avoided me like the plague.”
Now that she was mated, it was impossible for Riley not to appreciate just how agonizing that must have been. Shirley’s eyes were so wet and dull that Riley might have felt sorry for her if it weren’t for the talons aimed at Savannah and the fact that she’d hurt Dexter.
Shirley pressed her trembling lips together. “When Anabel died, I thought, ‘He can be mine now.’ Her death was fate at work, Riley. Fate punishing her for taking what wasn’t hers to take.” A flush crept up her neck and face. “I could have saved him. If they’d let me see him, let me speak to him, I could have brought him out of that state. He would have lived for me. I was his mate. But it was you the flock pinned their hopes on. They wouldn’t listen to me. Wouldn’t let me in to see him. ‘Riley will bring him back,’ they said. But you didn’t. So he died. Maybe fate was punishing him too for turning his back on what it offered him.”
“Are you forgetting that you were mated when he came to the flock?”
A dismissive sound. “I would have gotten rid of Dean for him. Dean never loved me anyway. He liked his girls young. Once I was too old for him, he lost interest.”
Riley got it then. Not only had Shirley been rejected by her true mate, but the male she’d taken as her mate had withdrawn from her. Wade had been Shirley’s anchor, her reason to live. And then she’d lost him. It would seem her grip on her sanity had slipped a little. Just maybe that grip had increasingly loosened as time went on, because the woman in front of Riley—a woman hurting children in a way that went against a raven’s nature—was definitely not stable . . . which was why it was absolutely imperative that Riley get the bitch away from the kids fast.
Shirley narrowed eyes that glittered with loathing. “I hated seeing you near Wade. I didn’t want anything of your mother touching my son, but he wouldn’t listen. He’d always find a way to sneak off and be with you and Lucy. He never defied me over anything else.”
Riley caught sight of Dexter stirring slightly in her peripheral vision, and her heart slammed against her ribs. She was relieved that he was conscious, but she was also frightened that he might draw Shirley’s attention.
“I don’t blame Wade for what he did that night,” Shirley went on. “None of them cared about him. They deserved to die and you should have died with them. Now you can.”
“You loved Daniel. I’m part of him.”
Her eyes flashed with scorn. “You had no right to be born. You should never have been born. They had no right to be mated.”
Riley threw her phone at Shirley. Instinct had the woman reaching to catch it. Savannah dropped to the ground and Riley charged at Shirley, sending them both toppling over the balcony. Riley shifted midair and shook off her clothes. Shirley did the same, and the ravens clashed in a fury of talons.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The black wolf bolted through the trees, teeth bared. His pack mates ran alongside him, keeping pace with the cars that raced toward the mountain. His muscles burned. His lungs felt raw. His heart beat too fast. But the wolf did not slow. He pushed on, veins buzzing with adrenaline.
Two humans leaned out of the car windows, guns in hand. The wolves did not retreat. They kept moving, using the trees for cover. Bullets slammed into the ground. Others hit tree trunks; pieces of bark flew. A burning heat grazed the wolf’s shoulder, but he ignored the pain. He had to. Echoes of his mate’s fear and anger sliced at him. He needed to reach her.
More bullets were fired. A yelp came from behind him. It made the wolf’s heart stutter, but he could not pause to help his pack mate. He had to reach those who were unprotected, he had to help his mate.
He put on a burst of speed as the cars reached the mountain. Several wolves rushed out of the parking lot and charged at the first car. They knocked it down, sending it sliding off the path. The other screeched to a halt.
Humans aimed their guns out the windows of both cars, but the pack attacked as a unit. Fast. Cold. Brutal. Without mercy.
With a vicious growl, the black wolf dived at the second car. He sank his teeth into an arm, tasting blood, enjoying the cry of agony. A gun fell at the wolf’s feet, but he kept his grip on the human.
The male punched him, spitting harsh words. Snarling, the wolf bit down harder and yanked. The human slipped out of the car, banging his head on the ground. The wolf wasted no time in tearing out his throat, but he felt no triumph. It was the leader he wanted.
The car rocked as the Alpha dragged another human from it. The white wolf helped her mate slash and maul their prey. His screams split the air, joining the growls, snarls, yelps, shouts, and sounds of bullets firing.
Some bullets hit the ground or the cave wall. Others sank past the fur and flesh of his pack mates. But the wolves did not retreat. They gave no reprieve. Blood, sweat, and rage scented the air, feeding his fury.
The wolf scrabbled to get inside the car to reach the human hiding there, but the male stumbled out the other side and tried to flee. The Beta wolves quickly took him down, slashing his back and pitilessly ripping into his shoulder.
Another human leaned out of the other side and aimed his gun at the Beta pair. Heart beating fast, the black wolf rounded the car and lunged. The human heard his growl and turned. Eyes wide, he fired. A burning heat skimmed his ear, but the wolf bit down on the human’s hand. The male cried out, but he did not drop the gun. He moved it to his other hand and—
The car rocked again, making the human lose his balance and topple out. A she-wolf appeared and slashed their enemy’s throat again and again, until he was choking on his own blood.
A female scream made the black wolf’s head snap up. His mate and another female were falling off a balcony. They shifted midair into ravens and attacked each other. Their wings flapped in a frenzy, and feathers seemed to burst off their bodies.
The wolf watched as they bit and stabbed each other with their beaks. Watched as they repeatedly clashed, raking each other with their talons. He could feel his mate’s pain. Despite it, she did not weaken. Did not ease back. She fought harder. More brutally. More—