Page 133 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

The boy didn’t return her smile, but he nodded. “Yeah. That would be good. I haven’t eaten in a couple days.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hollis said with a bitter chuckle. “He’s fucking starving them, too? I want that piece of shit. Roasted alive, preferably, so I can hear his ass scream.”

Tank carried Morgan inside, and Kirsten and her friends followed after them.

“What do we do now?” Abigail asked. She looked as sick as I felt. “Do we go to the police?”

“Won’t do much,” Langston said. “You know how it is. A shifter problem is a shifter problem.”

“Well, yeah, but there are other avenues,” she said. “There is a shifter division in the FBI. We could call them. This is beyond a simple challenge. He’s kidnapping, torturing, and killing kids, Langston.”

“True,” Reese said, “but that division is small, and they are spread across the entire country. You know as much as I do that shifters are too proud to call on them, so there aren’t many agents. Who knows how soon they could get here? If they’d even come. Most of this stuff is usually handled internally, and…” The young doctor looked at me. “I trust Jace to handle this better than anyone else.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I ignored it. “I appreciate that, Reese. I really do, but—”

“Jace?” Waylan said.

The tension in his voice had me whipping my head around. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at his own phone, his face red with anger. “Eren says to answer your phone.”

My pocket buzzed again. Son of a bitch.

“He just texted me,” Waylan muttered.

I nearly tore my pocket as I yanked my phone out. “You piece of shit,” I hissed when I answered. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me right now.”

“Now, now, Jace, that’s no way to answer the phone. Didn’t your parents teach you proper etiquette? Oh, wait.” He laughed. “That’s right. They got splattered on the highway back in the day. What am I thinking?”

The anger within me was like lava, ready to explode. A Vesuvius of rage unlike anything I’d experienced thus far.

“I called because, based on what some of my trackers are telling me, you might have something that doesn’t belong to you. I need it back.”

I snorted a laugh. “If you’re talking about the kid you nearly tortured into a feral, then you’re out of luck. You can have him back over my dead fucking body.”

A long pause came next. I could hear Eren breathing in short, angry hisses. The others stood around me, each looking as anxious as the other.

Finally, with barely concealed irritation, he spoke again. “Jace, you and I both know kids have active imaginations. You can’t believe a word that they say. Young Morgan is simply upset that his mother made him do his chores. He threw a tantrum, and she called me to come speak with him. I’m the alpha, so she thought my words would sink in.” Eren gave a weary and obviously fake sigh of sadness. “But the boy did not want to listen. He took off into the woods. Running away, I’m sure. Whatever he’s told you, well, you can take it all with a grain of salt.”

“Then why the fuck couldn’t he shift back to his human form, huh? Why was it like he’d been abused nearly to the point of madness? I know what you’re doing, motherfucker,” I hissed, gripping the phone tight enough to make my knuckles crack. “I know what you’re doing, and I’m going to make you pay for it. Understand?”

Eren sighed again, this time like he was bored. “Fine. Be that way. Though, I have to say, good luck proving anything.” He laughed at me, actually laughed like it was funny. “And you can keep the little shithead. There’s plenty more kids where he came from.”

Before I could respond, Eren hung up.

I stared at my phone, seething with rage. Nausea swept through me, pushing me to the verge of being sick. I looked up at the others, and I could see the same looks of desperate hatred in their eyes.

“We’ve got to deal with this prick,” I grumbled. “And soon. Before he hurts more people than he already has.”

Chapter 9

Kirsten

“Grab some pillows, Harley,” I said, hurrying after Tank as he carried the boy to the couch in the living room.

“On it,” she said, running up the stairs.

Tinsley put a hand on my shoulder. “What do you need me to do?”

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