Page 48 of Fear

Sofia turned, lifting the gun, but her hands were shaking, breath ragged. A figure surged toward her—one of Jason’s men. Not the one she’d attacked. Bigger. Faster.

She pulled the trigger…once, twice…but the shots went wild. The man tackled her to the ground. The air whooshed out of her lungs as her back slammed into the earth. The gun flew from her hand. She kicked, screamed, fought…but he was too strong.

“Stupid little bitch,” he spat, pinning her wrists with one hand, grabbing her face with the other. She was going to die. Out here in the woods. So fucking close to freedom. So close to Goliath.

Tears welled in her eyes—not from fear, but fury. He was right there, somewhere. She could feel it, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

Chapter 20

He felt her pain like a blade to the chest. Sharp. Sudden. Brutal. One moment, the bond was a thin, golden thread pulling at his chest. The next…it snapped tight like a noose. He staggered where he stood, hand bracing against the side of the truck they’d stopped beside, breath caught mid-motion.

A searing wave of fear rushed through him. But it wasn’t his. It was hers. Sofia.

She was terrified, hurt, helpless, and he wasn’t there. A roar built in his chest, but he swallowed it down, only barely. His body trembled with rage and power, his wolf clawing at the surface, begging to be unleashed.

“She’s in pain,” he growled, voice low and raw, eyes flashing gold. The others turned instantly.

King stepped forward. “Did you feel her again?”

Goliath nodded, once, tight and jerky. “She’s not where she was. They moved her.” That alone nearly snapped his control.

They had taken her, hidden her from him, laid hands on her. Another man had touched her, and he didn’t know where. Did she cry when they grabbed her? Did she scream? Fight? Was she bleeding?

He couldn’t see it, but his wolf felt it, the ache in her chest, the panic in her breath. The fight dying in her fists. And it was killing him. He was failing her.

Hunter moved closer, standing just within arm’s reach…close enough to intervene if he had to.

Frost leaned against the tailgate, quiet, calculating, his gaze locked on Goliath like a man watching a ticking bomb.

Dixon didn’t say a word, but his hand rested lightly on the butt of his gun—not to draw it, but in case they had to stop Goliath from doing something irreversible.

Because they all knew, he wasn’t thinking straight. He was seconds from snapping. Burning the world down, body by body, until Sofia was back in his arms.

“Brother,” King said, voice quiet, steady. “You’ve got to stay focused. If we lose you now, we lose our chance.”

Goliath turned to him; teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached. “I can feel her,” he ground out. “She’s scared. She’s fighting, and I can’t fucking reach her, I’m supposed to protect her, and I’m—”

His voice broke. He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t need to, they all knew what it meant. I’m not enough. He backed away, pacing hard, muscles coiled, his boots chewing into the gravel as he clenched and unclenched his fists, his wolf was screaming for Sofia.

And somewhere out there, she was hurting, because he was too slow, too fucking slow. “Tell me we’ve got something,” he snapped. “A trail, a car, a camera feed—anything.”

Dixon shook his head. “They covered it too well. No fresh tracks, no digital trail. Whoever Rodes hired to move her knew exactly what the hell they were doing.”

Goliath let out a low, dangerous sound, the kind of sound that made grown men take a step back. “They won’t be enough,” he muttered. “I’ll tear through every town, every city, every inch of fucking dirt until I find her.”

Frost’s voice was low, but carried weight. “Not if you burn yourself out before you reach her.”

Goliath turned sharply. “What would you do if it was your mate?”

Frost didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. “Exactly what you’re doing. But I’d let the pack do it with me.”

King stepped forward. “We’ll find her. Together.”

Goliath said nothing, because he knew the truth. If they didn’t find her soon…he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. He’d shift, he’d hunt, he’d kill, and nothing would stand in his way.

The sun had shifted again. Late afternoon bleeding into early dusk, another day slipping through his fingers, another hour she was gone. Goliath felt like he was choking on his own breath. They’d scoured the entire ridge, they’d torn through the last known location, interrogated every bastard who’d ever done a deal with Rodes, ripped apart three stash houses—And still nothing.

No scent trail. No movement. No goddamn heartbeat. He crouched near a tree line, eyes closed, fists pressed to his temples like he could will the bond back into focus.

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