Page 108 of Savage Fate

“Butthey’renot,” I muttered, my gaze landing on Saint, who kneeled a few feet away. Somehow, I’d ended up on the floor in Camus’s meeting room.

The blood drained from Saint’s cheeks. “What did you see?”

“He cut out their hearts.” A hot tear brimmed over. “Bonnie and Josh.”

Saint fell back on his ass, his expression stricken. “Are you sure? Could it have been their future? Maybe we have time to save them.”

I shook my head, my bottom lip trembling. This horrific event had already occurred. I felt it in my bones. “It’s too late for them.” My blood boiled hot as the last few moments returned. “But that’s not the worst of it.”

Fane pulled me into him as he felt tremors overtake me. “What did you see?”

“It’s not the Nosterium—or demons at all—doing this.” I angrily wiped the moisture from my face. “It’s The Collective Hunt.”

A ripple of curses and growls echoed from the council members.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why would shifters run around in cloaks and masks?”

“Why would they cut out hearts?”

Camus kneeled on my other side, a gold sheen spilling into his irises as his wolf scratched at the surface. “Are you sure?”

“Barric took the mask off as he was cutting out my—Josh’s—heart.”

Fane flinched when he realized I’d suffered the horror through Josh’s eyes and had felt all his agony.

“Why all these demonic-like rituals?” Camus asked. “None of this sounds like shifter behavior, not even for psychopaths like The Collective.”

This had everything to do with the Infernal Sol. I didn’t even need to say the words in Fane’s mind for him to know what I was thinking. Even Saint knew.

For a moment, I thought Saint would blurt out the truth in his grief, but his lips formed a tight line, keeping my secret.

For now.

Acid suddenly shot up my throat, and I scrambled off the floor, making a mad dash for the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, and my knees hit the tiles moments before my stomach emptied into the toilet.

Sweat beaded my forehead, and the small room spun.

I’d been living the last fearful moments of these shifters’ lives as The Collective Hunt chased and tortured them. They weren’t just killing them. They were mutilating them and cutting out their hearts.

What was Barric’s endgame? Why would he perform demonic rituals?

The door opened, and I groaned as Fane’s presence descended over my back. I flushed the toilet so he didn’t see the disgusting crap, but he could no doubt smell it.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone while my head is stuck in the toilet?”

Fane grabbed a hand towel off the counter, wet it, and kneeled behind me. “It’s my nature to be stuck up your ass when you’re not feeling well.” Fane drew my hair back and pressed the cold, damp cloth to my neck. “There’s no getting rid of me.”

I leaned into his touch. “So I noticed. I guess we’re the same in that way.”

He stood and filled a paper cup with water, passing it to me. I rinsed my mouth, but it wasn’t enough to wash the foul taste away. Knowing what I needed—as usual—Fane filled the cup with mouthwash.

“Thank you,” I muttered before swishing, spitting it into the toilet, and flushing again. I closed the lid and leaned my forehead on the cold porcelain.

Fane placed the rag on my neck and gently stroked my back. I wanted to curl into a ball and pass out, but there was no time. Now that I’d finally seen the monsters behind the masks, I couldn’t allow these shifters to die in vain.

We had to do something.

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