Pack Ruin (The Splintered Bond #3)

22. Caught

22

Caught

GLEN

I snarled, my wolf ready to run back to our little mate’s defense, just as Flor sent a sharp wave down the bond that was almost a word. No.

She was still standing, in the same easy stance she adopted when she was ready to fight. I thought she might dart back through the hole in the fence, distract the guards, and get away. That would be fine. She would be fine. I could rescue Luke on my own, and stay the fuck away from the insane wizard who was courting her. I’d probably move faster alone, and knowing she was safe in the woods she knew like the back of her hand would help me focus on the mission.

Instead, her fingers flew to the tag on her ear as she dropped to her knees, her head bowed instantly and her neck tilted to one side so that her hair didn’t cover the tag. “Apologies, Enforcer.”

The man was on his own, but another Enforcer stood a few hundred yards away, watching. My blood went cold. The boys had told us that no one was supposed to be on their own, that unranked shifters in particular weren’t even allowed out of the dorm without a guard, or a ranked partner.

The Enforcer who’d barked the command moved closer, leaning down to pull Flor’s ear by the tag. The scent of her blood carried on the breeze to me, and my wolf crouched, ready to spring. “What are you doing alone out here?”

“I w-wasn’t alone, sir. I had a partner, a ranked one, but he ran off. He had important work to do.” She was being careful not to lie, but she was also making sure I knew what she wanted me to do. Go on with our mission.

“As if any Southern dog knows what a day’s work looks like. Probably trying to sneak out the main gate. We’ve killed seven in the past three days alone, little bitch.”

“Please don’t kill me, sir. I promise I’m not plannin’ to head to the gate. I promise I wasn’t even thinking that. Please let me go—” Her accent got thicker the more she begged, until the male shook her harder.

Fuck! The damned tag was going to rip clean out if he did that again. It took everything I had not to react when she cried out. The man let her go, and she flopped to the ground, pretending weakness. He pulled his leg back to kick her, when something—no, someone —darted along the fence line. The other Enforcer who was watching from farther away saw it, too, and raised the alarm, running toward the gate that led to the hunting grounds. Other voices joined in, and howls.

Young-sounding ones. It had to be Bo or Leroy, distracting the guards.

“I think we found the asshole who left you alone. He a friend of yours? Because he’s about to be a dead one.”

Flor just whimpered, covering her head. “Please let me go back to my room. I swear I won’t do nothin’ but go. I won’t stop; I’ll run right there.” Her voice rang with truth.

But the man hesitated, squinting down at her face. “You think I trust you to go back on your own? Start running, girl.”

“Yessir.” Flor jogged ahead of him without even glancing in my direction, holding a hand over her neck. I used my nose to shove the pack into a ditch, then slunk behind them in the shadows. I moved silently under the clouded sky, keeping her faint scent in my nose as they moved into the section of the packlands where the dorms sat, dark and grim. My attention was on my mate, but I couldn’t help but notice the changes all around.

When I’d first arrived here for the Conclave, I’d thought Southern was shabby. But now, even if the paths and yards were clear—almost eerily quiet, as if everyone was hiding in their homes—there was a palpable sense of foreboding that lingered. A few curtains twitched in the houses we passed when the Enforcer was greeted by others. I fell behind as we neared the dorm where Flor had lived before.

My wolf growled low, not wanting our little mate to enter that building. It was well-guarded, with two alert Enforcers at each door, who were checking in some women, marking them off on a paper roster. Shit. If they kept track of the individual shifters, they’d know Flor didn’t belong. This was the most dangerous moment.

“Hey, Stan, I got one of your girls here. Her escort ran off into the woods, left her by one of the piles.”

The red-haired guard moved closer, eyeing Flor. “Which floor are you on?”

One of the women waiting by the door spoke up. “Lor, there you are. Better hurry, Holly’s gonna whip you bloody for bein’ late. Both of us, if we ain’t careful.” Before I could wonder at the name she’d called my mate, the blonde had looped an arm through Flor’s. The stranger twirled her pale hair around one finger in the worst pretense of flirting I’d ever seen, batting her lashes at the door guard. “Let us in quick, and I’ll see if I can slip back down later and make it up to ya.”

The red-haired male licked his lips and reached out to grab her, but the other guard growled. “Let ‘em go, Stan.”

“Thanks, Iris,” Flor muttered, glancing over her shoulder at me. I took one step toward her. She lifted her hand and scratched her nose with her middle finger. Then she did it again.

I froze. Was she… telling me to fuck off?

The finger changed to a thumb, pointing in the direction of the Pack House. Then, sending a burst of emotions down our bond that was equal parts impatience, encouragement, and trepidation, she entered the dorm.

I almost smiled. The little minx was confident enough for both of us. I hoped she was right to feel that way. I waited three minutes before I slipped back into the deepest shadows I could find, and went in search of Luke.

Finding him was easier than I’d thought. The Pack House wasn’t a mansion by any stretch, just a sprawling ranch-style house with one story, if you didn’t count the holding cells in the basement. I was slinking along the outside of the building, listening for guards and taking in the slightly foul scents of Southern when I smelled Luke.

Well, I smelled Luke, blood, and something else: a crisp ozone scent I’d noticed in the woods at Northern when we were hunting the rogues, and then again when I’d recovered from the attack delivered by General Ivan.

Magic.

I stopped and sniffed at the windowsill. The window was slightly open, and when I went up on two paws, I could see a man—or a corpse—in bed, covered only with a sheet, and about the same shade.

Hang on, Luke , I thought, and began to shift. I’d need hands to open the window. My change was swift and nearly painless, and as silent as it could be, the sounds of the bones breaking and reforming as quiet as dry leaves blowing on pavement.

As I straightened and reached for the window, I felt distant twinges in the bond with Flor, and focused. She wasn’t scared, but in a little pain, and a lot angry. Most likely Finnick was still pulling some shit I would eventually beat his ass for, if Brand didn’t get there first.

I went still, listening for others, then opened the window and vaulted through. My feet made a soft thudding noise, right before the floorboard I’d landed on creaked.

Oh shit.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, approaching fast. I ran to the door and stood behind it, cursing myself for a fool. But a voice called out down the hall, “Shaun, tell Torran we have a report of a shifter outside the fence line. We found tracks, a decent trail for once.”

The footsteps retreated. After a long moment, I approached the bed and stared down at the man who had been a friend, if not a close one. Of course, now I knew why he hadn’t been closer, why he alone of all of us hadn’t been able to bond with the other Heirs and foster at all the packs. It hadn’t just been Callaway keeping his Heir close.

Back then, I’d thought Luke was weak, before I’d learned the truth. Somehow, Luke had known Flor was his mate since he was ten. He’d been separated from her again and again, sometimes for days or weeks, sometimes by thousands of miles. He’d been forbidden to shift for years at a time, to weaken him. And still, he was alive. Fighting to be at her side.

I wasn’t certain I’d have been able to survive such a long separation from my mate, especially before we’d exchanged mating bites. I wasn’t at all sure how Luke had managed to, even before whatever Brand had done—whatever had turned his eyes white—to funnel strength all the way to Southern.

I laid a hand on his forehead, shocked at how cold he felt, like he was already dead. “She’s here, Luke. She’s here, and I’m going to take you to her.”

“Not alone,” a raspy voice replied, just as a whip made of fire wrapped itself around my ankles and dragged me to my knees, and then the floor.

I was frozen, unable to move a single muscle, even to blink, though all I wanted to do was close my eyes when I saw what had me.

It was a demon with glowing red eyes, wrapped in darkness, lying in wait under the bed. As I stared, helpless, it inched closer, placing one clawed hand on my face. “Ssssso young,” it hissed as its talons sank into my hair. “Ssstrong.”

Fuck.