Page 85 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

I hesitate, then force myself to meet his gaze. “If it comes down to it, I want you to leave me behind.”

His expression sharpens, his jaw clenching. “No.”

“They won’t hurt me,” I insist. “But they won’t hesitate to kill you, Reyes. If it looks like there’s no way to get us both out, yourun. You can always come back for me with the rest of the pack.”

He crosses his arms, glaring at me with a mix of frustration and something deeper. “I’m not leaving you behind,” he says firmly. “End of discussion.”

“Reyes—”

“No,” he cuts me off, his voice low and unyielding. “I’m not abandoning you, Tilda. Not now. Not ever.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “You think things are going to go fine?”

“I’m an optimist,” he says, a small, crooked smile softening the tension between us. “And I think we’re going to be okay.”

His confidence is almost contagious, but the knot of dread in my stomach refuses to loosen. Before I can say anything else, he steps closer and cups my face in his hands. His lips crash into mine, the kiss deep and steady, grounding me in the moment.

I cling to him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, as if I can anchor us together. As if that connection will keep us safe. Keep us whole.

When he pulls back, his eyes search mine, dark and serious. “Good luck,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I hope so.”

I go on foot to the gates of Homestead, wading through the field of tall grasses. I catch sight of the barbed wire fence a moment later, a grey line over the scarlet prairie. Someone is standing in the watchtower with a rifle in their hand, the red pinpoint of its sights suddenly landing on my chest.

I freeze and raise my hands.

“It’s me!” I call out, hoping they can hear me. “I’m back!”

The red dot lingers on me, the sniper’s sights steady for a moment longer. My breath hitches, and I resist the urge to raise my hands again, to make myself smaller somehow. Another figure joins the person in the watchtower, silhouetted against the faint rose glow of the Curtain. They exchange a few gestures I can’t make out. Then, mercifully, the dot vanishes.

I let out a slow, controlled breath and take another step forward, each movement cautious and deliberate. Then another. When no shots ring out, I pick up my pace, striding across the prairie toward the gates.

The massive wooden doors creak open, just wide enough for someone to step through. My heart kicks into overdrive as I spot a familiar figure on the other side. Enid.

She looks smaller than I remember, her frame still wiry and energetic but thinner, her face framed by loose strands of her dark hair. For a second, she freezes, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. Then, with a cry, she sprints toward me, her feet pounding against the dry earth.

I barely have time to brace myself before she launches into my arms, nearly knocking me off balance. “Tilda!” she gasps, her voice high and breathless as her arms lock around my neck. “Oh my God, Tilda! How are you here?”

Her tears are immediate, soaking into the fabric of my shirt as she clings to me. I huff out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed by relief and guilt and a thousand other emotions I can’t even name. I’m not a crier—but Enid always has been, her emotions raw and unguarded, spilling out of her like sunlight on a cloudy day.

I tighten my arms around her, burying my face in her hair for a moment. “Enid,” I murmur, my voice cracking despite myself. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I thought you were dead,” she says, her words muffled against my shoulder. She pulls back just enough to look at me, her face streaked with tears, her hands clutching my jacket. “Tilda, what happened? Where did you go?”

“I’ll explain everything,” I say, brushing a hand through her hair. My voice is firm but soft. “But we have to hurry. Is Mayor McAllen here?”

Her brows knit together, concern replacing her initial relief. “Yeah, he’s here. But…wait.” She glances back toward the gates, then back at me. “Did they just let you go? What happened?”

I glance over her shoulder at the gate, where a small group has gathered, their expressions wary and curious as they take me in. I recognize some of their faces—neighbors, friends, people I grew up with. People who trusted me.

“They didn’t have to,” I say softly, bringing my attention back to Enid. “Listen… I’ve learned a few things about the Austin pack, and I’ve decided I’m going to stay with them. I want you to come with me.”

Her reaction is immediate. She flinches, her brows knitting together in confusion as she takes a step back. “What?”

“They have a clinic,” I explain quickly, my voice low but urgent. “Resources, medicine—things we’ve never had. And they’re not…they’re not who we thought they were. They’re not the monsters we were told about.”

“Tilda, what are you talking about?” Her voice is rising, the panic creeping into her tone.

---