Page 118 of Pack Fever

A sickening dread settles in the pit of my stomach.

“I can’t leave without her,” I murmur, and Reed’s heaving for breath, his gaze slipping to the front of the house.

“I’ll come back and search for her, but I need to get you out first.”

Not giving me a chance to respond, he pulls me alongside him hastily, his pace relentless. We round a corner of the corridor, bursting into a grimy kitchen, only to be met by the hostile gaze of a guard. The man charges at Reed with a ferocity that sends a spike of fear through me.

I yelp, stepping back and hitting a wall.

In that split second, everything slows down. Reed’s movements are precise, and he’s ready for the guard’s charge. My breath catches in my throat, the chaotic sounds from outside fading into the background as I focus solely on Reed. He hurls the man to the ground and straddles him, throwing punch after punch.

I should look away, but I can’t, not even when there’s the splatter of blood on the floor, and the man no longer moves.

There’s no emotional reaction from Reed, and I feel none for the man on the floor. How can there be when these monsters kidnap Omegas, when they were ready to eliminate Reed?

Reed’s grip tightens around my hand once more, and he steers us toward the back door, his whisper urgent. “Keep quiet, and we’ll get out of here. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

The contrast between the dim indoors and the blinding sunlight outside is stark. I blink against the brightness, my senses momentarily overwhelmed. Behind us, the cacophony from the front of the house seems worlds away, yet it booms through the quiet neighborhood like someone’s holding a huge party in the middle of the day.

Every step we take is driven with desperation for freedom, for safety. Reed leads me swiftly around the house’s perimeter, the barren concrete yard sprawling out behind the large home. We pause at the rear corner, Reed pulling me close, his body shielding mine in a protective embrace that floods me with warm fuzzy feelings for him.

Peering cautiously around the corner to the open parking area at the side of the house, my breath catches at the sight before us. There, unmistakable with her blonde-white hair fluttering in the breeze, is Casey. She’s sliding onto the back of a motorcycle behind a large, imposing guy in a leather jacket.

My heart lurches with relief and alarm—Casey is alive, but she’s leaving, seemingly of her own volition.

“Casey!” I call out, desperation sharpening my voice as I attempt to break free from Reed’s hold. My friend is slipping away, not hearing me over the explosive sounds happening somewhere at the front of the house.

I step forward, reaching for her, desperate to hug her, to find out what happened to her and if she knows how Kayla and Jess are doing. It feels like an eternity since the bus crash, since we were separated, but it comes crashing back. Raw and emotional, it grabs hold of my chest, squeezing it with worry for my friends.

“Casey, wait up,” I call out once more.

Reed’s arm wraps securely around my waist, holding me back as I strain toward her. The motorbike roars to life and speeds away down the driveway with such velocity, there’s no chance she’ll hear me now.

As the bike disappears down the street, emotions whirl within me. Relief that Casey is alive eats away at the worry about her safety. Who the hell was the guy on the bike? She didn’t appear injured, but her hasty exit and her acceptance of the biker leaves me desperate for a conversation that feels farther away. I tell myself she’s alive and escaped these monsters, so maybe she’s found her own Alpha?

Reed’s hand steady on my hip, he whispers in my ear, “We’ll find her again, but we don’t know who she’s involved in, and I won’t risk putting you in more danger,” he assures me, his voice low but firm.

I hate that he pulled me back from rushing to Casey. Maybe it would have been dangerous, but what about her safety?

“You shouldn’t have stopped me,” I whisper back. “What if she needed help?”

“Come on, Danica, you saw she had no issues getting on that bike, but it was fast. She was escaping just like we are. You’re my priority.”

My frustration at missing Casey still simmers beneath the surface, but Reed’s urgent pull, dragging me down the side of the house, past boarded-up windows, snaps me back to the present danger.

I’m torn with my own emotions.

As we rush forward toward the front of the house, I see them.

Three guards round the corner ahead of us, their intentions clear in their dark gazes.

Dread churns in my gut, the hairs on my nape lifting.

The house we just escaped erupts in a cacophony of shouts and commotion. Have they discovered us gone and perhaps Casey’s escape as well? A wave of nausea hits me. The notion of being dragged back into that house, or worse, seeing Reed killed, is unbearable.

The lead guard doesn’t hesitate, his hand steady as he raises his gun toward us. Reed instinctively steps in front of me, ready to shield me with his own body. Panic and determination surge within me.

I can’t.

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