Page 10 of The Alpha Grizzly's Mate

I realized too late that I’d fled far too quickly. I knew next to nothing and that made uncovering any information about them impossible. Had I not already been on my family’s shit list, I probably would’ve already known everything I needed. But then again, the only way to not be on that list was to be like them, so it had never been an option.

I needed to get them out of there and to safety. I’d researched places they could flee. A pack about a thousand miles away was rumored to help omegas and their young escape abuse. The information was all secondhand and unclear and probably about helping them escape shitty matings or packs, not organized crime, but it gave me hope. A safe haven wasn’t going to do me a lick of good if I couldn’t get them out of there in the first place and, so far, a plan to do so was evading me.

My family wouldn’t care who double-crossed them. The consequences would be the same—or maybe not. Maybe I wouldn’t be tortured first, just killed. Or worse, maybe they would execute each of them in front of me, telling me they’d have been alive if I hadn’t double-crossed my family. My father was really shitty like that.

I had to save those being held there. That was not up for debate. It had to be done soon, too. If they were being held thereuntil they were sold or traded or whatever my father’s plan was for them, time was running out.

I struggled to get a lungful of air as I thought about my delivery schedule. What if it was every other week? What if it was a place to stay for only a day or two? If that were the case, they’d already be gone.

If I’d paid attention and done what I needed to the first time, maybe they’d already be on the road to safety. But I didn’t. I’d walked in there and pretty much freaked out and left. That wasn’t exactly how it went, but it sure felt that way. All I had was scent and hearing memory, and even at that—not much. It didn’t tell me where they were or what kind of security they had. I’d messed up, big-time.

What I needed to do was get a better look around, figure out all the details, and then make a plan. Rushing in without a plan would end in badness. If I did this wrong, innocent shifters would suffer, and that was the very last thing I wanted to do.

It had been nearly a week since my delivery, and technically, the next one wasn’t until a week from now. But showing up early was something I could play stupid on. It would be easy enough to say, “Oh, I thought this was a weekly thing.” And who was gonna argue about getting more food? Then I’d say I needed to use the bathroom, hopefully get a good enough look around to know where people were being held, and get out of there before anyone was any the wiser.

At least that was as close to a plan as I managed.

But when I drove up to the house, the van full of a duplicate order, the gate was open. It shouldn’t have been. Or, at least, it wasn’t last time, and it had my nerves on edge and my wolf alert.

I drove around back, parked the van, and grabbed one of the cases of food, carrying it to the back door. Only, when I got there, the door was shut, but the lock was busted. I pushed inside, and right away, I knew something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The stench of death hit me first, one that was only amplified as I nearly fell tripping over a dead wolf. I dropped the case of food and started to run toward where the omega and children scents were the strongest. There were so many scents coming at me all at once, and my wolf was on high alert.

I reached the place where they were being held, and the tears flowed down my cheeks. No sign marked the location, but there was no mistake about it. This was where they had once been.

This wasn’t a nice dormitory-style room, either. There were chains, and cuffs, and no real furniture. There were claw marks scratched into the floor and door. And most powerful of all was the way I could still feel the terror of them bouncing off the walls.

I had to find them.

I had to find where they had gone, good or bad. I feared for the worst while attempting to hope for the best. It wasn’t easy to hope when you knew who was behind them being here in the first place. When had it happened? How were they taken? Were they in a worse position now?

The scent of death here permeated every breath and with good reason. Dead wolves, in both forms, still lay there on the ground. Alphas, not omegas. My father’s men.

“Good.” Let it be my father’s men who suffered. They were all there by choice.

But something else lay under the death and omegas, another scent richer and sweeter.

Ours,my wolf cried out.

Ours.

Mate.

Find.

Even if my beast was correct, and he wasn’t holding onto the welcoming scent because it was better than death, I didn’t have time for that. I needed to find them—the omegas and children.

I didn’t know what to do, so I called my dad, hoping for at least a hint of where to go next. I couldn’t ask him, but maybe I could piece together what he was saying?

Shaking my head, even I saw how messed up it was that he was the one I was turning to. I’d gone there to make a plan that would shut him down. And what happened? He became the first person I called when things went south. It was messed up.

“Where are you?” he answered on the first ring.

“There’s a problem. I—I brought — Some of your men are dead.”

“What?”

I took a deep breath and attempted to explain to him where I was and how they were all gone. It was difficult making sure he had all the details without giving him the ones I didn’t want him to have. I left off the parts where I knew omegas and children were held there and was relieved when he asked me if any of them were left. Once he mentioned them, I no longer needed to be as careful, at least not when it came to them.

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