Page 106 of Reaper's Pack

They parted on my approach, eyes narrowing at the bloody bastard, our high-value prisoner. We’d all stayed naked, clothes long since abandoned. After all, it would be even more shocking for three naked men to materialize in the middle of this food court should opposing forces provoke us.

“Found this one sniffing around the hospital,” I announced as I steered my captive up the steps to the platform. The fucker’s lips parted and he drew a sharp breath, but before he could utter one miserable word, I cuffed him hard by the back of the neck, lifted him off his feet, and hurled him to the floor. He crashed in a heap before me, crying out for mercy and shielding his face as the pack closed in. Declan and I knelt on either side of him, the blade back at his throat, while Knox lorded over everything, a menacing giant to the figure on the ground.

“Please, please,” the man whimpered, a few of the many bloody incisions on his face splitting open as he spoke, “I’m just as much a victim as your reaper. Please.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Declan growled, eyes flitting to me, then Knox, then back to the pathetic creature on the ground, belly-up and cowering.

“She’s alive. I swear it, she’s alive—”

“We know she’s alive,” I said coolly. While the admission was music to my ears, it didn’t mean anything. The pack could sense our mate—and that was the problem. “Alive and in pain, right? We can fucking feel it.”

So that he could feel it too, I nicked the blade’s tip over what little unmarked flesh remained on his throat. His skin split and wept red, and I forced a cruel sneer, like I relished my addition to his collection of carved runes. In reality, I was falling apart inside, racked with such fear, such worry, that it threatened to drown me.

“She’s being held by a god,” the man told us, shaking in his perfectly polished shoes, that grey suit too fine a material for some useless nobody. “I don’t know his name, but he found me after I fled my coven. I-I killed another warlock… It was self-defense, I swear, but the code is strict, and they would have killed me—”

Declan cut off the fucker’s rambling with a good, solid punch to the face. The crunch of bone suggested a broken nose, and his upper lip split on impact, the air around us saturated with iron.

“Stay on topic, asshole,” Declan ordered, so confident and poised—so unlike the hellhound I had known all these years. While our captive might have been ranting, he had given us plenty in just a few words. An ancient being of unknown power had Hazel trapped. This shit was a warlock, a creature who had no business on the celestial plane but was clearly proficient in magic of all kinds. I pressed the dagger to his flesh, not breaking it, but hard enough that one deep breath would slit his throat.

“Where is Hazel?” I asked, a sudden calmness thrumming through me, a focus to silence the fear inside.

“My n-name is Richard,” the warlock replied, another off-topic response. Blood smeared across his front teeth, dribbling in from his busted lip. “And he made me… He carved the symbols so I could collect souls for him—as payment for his protection. He wants her to do it now because I… Being on the celestial plane—I’ll die soon. My body can’t take it.”

Another warning slice to his flesh silenced him, and this Richard pressed his eyes tightly shut, squeezing out a few tears. Crocodile or not—I couldn’t say.

“Tell us where she is,” I ordered softly. “Better yet, take us to her.”

“Of course, of course…” The warlock’s eyes snapped open, the madness fleeting but present. “He sent me out to fetch his dinner, but I had hoped to find you all instead. I don’t want to die. If you kill him, we’ll be free. Her and I. Please. I’ll take you.” Boldness struck, and he sat up on his elbows; I let him, both of us painfully aware that he had information we so desperately needed. “He’s holed up in Luna Pass, the mountain range north of the city. Inside… It’s warded, but I can get you through.”

“Then let’s go,” Declan snapped, shooting up and taking hold of Richard’s arm. “We don’t have any more time to waste.”

We hauled the warlock to his feet, the blade remaining at his throat. A flicker of excitement plumed in my chest, but as eager as I was to find her, hold her, hurt the villain who dared hurt her, I couldn’t get ahead of myself. This journey was only just beginning—and Hazel was still very far away.

“Knox,” I started, “do you think—”

“I’m not coming with you.”

A beat of intense stillness echoed through our bond, squashing all of today’s noise to nothing. Knox had been strangely hands-off during our brief interrogation, and to hear the certainty in his voice now, like he had just been biding his time to say—that…

A huff of disbelief whooshed out of me. “What?”

“This could lead to our death at the hands of some god,” Knox remarked, gruff and unnervingly firm, his arms crossed. “We have an opportunity here. Go. Get out of all this for good. Start a new life.”

Declan and I exchanged fleeting, frantic looks across Richard. The warlock all but hung between us, weak on his feet, head drooped—and, as far as I was concerned, inconsequential for the time being.

“W-what are you talking about?” Declan adjusted his hold on our prisoner, shaking his head. “No, we have to find Hazel.”

In the human realm, time ticked on, the food court slowly filling, lines building in front of the vendors. So ordinary out there—so normal.

“Ever since you two came to me, my priority has been your safety, your freedom,” Knox insisted. “That is what an alpha is supposed to do—”

“It’s different now,” I argued, incredulous that this was even a discussion, “and you know that. She’s a part of our pack. Someone has kidnapped a member of our pack. They’re hurting her. Our mate. We can’t just leave her.”

Seldom did I struggle to get a read on a situation, especially when it came to Knox and Declan. Not only did we share the pack bond, but I had been studying their moods and expressions for years now. Declan had grown these past three months into a stronger hellhound, the abuse of his past finally fading, allowing him to blossom into the packmate he was always meant to be. Hazel had changed Knox, broken down his walls, made him a little softer. I understood all that. Recognized it. Catalogued it, saw the root of the subtle but distinct shifts in their personalities.

But this?

I didn’t understand this.

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