Page 18 of Alpha Exile

We're not able to speak any further. Delphine tightens her leashes around us, and wisely has us march behind her in a single line, nearly twenty feet between each of us. We could try throwing whispers back and forth, as Roarke did earlier, but this time her attention is unwavering. She makes sure to look over her shoulder at us each time to pauses at a fork in the tunnels or chooses a new direction.

It doesn't matter. We already have a plan. Once she settles in for the night, we'll put it into motion. I tell myself that it won't be long now.

After all, I was put on this world for one thing: to be with Delilah. I can't imagine a universe where fate keeps us apart for long. And even if that wily force of nature tries, I'll defy fate itself to return to her.

So with that particular problem put off for later, I go over and over the moment I threw that vamp against the wall. At the time, it felt easy, simple and straightforward. But Finn is right: the ferals are strong, despite or because of their hunger. He was barely able to hold her off.

But I was able to tug her off him, pick her up off the ground, and throw her so hard that she died on impact.

And I was barely even winded.

Maybe my mate bond has something to do with it. I can feel it inside me, painful and pulsing, but there despite the distance from Delilah. It's not just my imagination—it can't be. Delphine has taken us from our fated mate, but she hasn't forged a completed bond with us. If she had, she wouldn't be so determined and on a mission.

A mission that, I suspect, ends with our free will gone forever, and possibly all of us dead as well.

But the mate bond may not be the only thing that gave me the strength to throw that vampire off Finn. After all, I had the mate bond when the ferals attacked, and they were overpoweringly strong. They didn't even die.

Something else has changed since that fateful battle last night—or yesterday, or minutes ago, however much time has passed.

Since then, we've been walking through underground caves with an eerie, nearly magical glow.

The same caves that, I suspect, the witch covens have lived in for generations. Caves that are renowned for their power and their danger.

Because magic lives here.

And it may be affecting us all every minute that we spend down here.

The only question is whether or not we'll come out of this journey alive—and if we do, whether we'll even want to be. Because if this magic is what made the ferals what they are, I know I don't want to bethat.

All the more reason to escape tonight, as soon as Delphine's guard is down.

Eight

Delilah

My life takes up a surprising number of boxes.

Even though I just moved back to Juniper recently, and the fire scorched a lot of things, I have plenty of stuff left behind. Most of the lower level of the house was spared, including my closet, which is full of stuff Cat brought from home. There are also my childhood things, Dad's letters to me that I haven't read, and all the things I found in Bastian's room.

His shirts and pants, bought just for him at the store. I ached with unshed tears as I folded them up and packed them away.

I wonder if he's cold or hungry where he is now. It's been almost a day since Delphine took them. Maybe she's treating them well, or maybe she's not.

Either way, I refuse to believe that they're gone for good. So I packed up Bastian's stuff and brought it with me to the rental house where Cat, Kerry and I are staying.

"You can still go back to San Diego," I remind Cat as she rolls her suitcase down the long hallway. The house is one we're renting from a human realtor in town, using some of the pack's funds—thankfully she gave us a discount. "This house is barely three bedrooms, and I know you hate having to share a bathroom. Even though you will be sharing it with Kerry."

"Don't worry about me." Cat waves my concerns away. "I want to be here for you while you go through all of us. Until those boys of yours are back, and that bitch is thoroughly dead, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Kerry frowns in Cat's direction, then shoots me a puzzled glance. "Is she difficult to share with?"

I snort, but Cat is raising a brow at me, so I just innocently say, "I hope you don't need any counter space, because she'll be taking all of it and then some."

"As long as there's room for my toothbrush and hairbrush."

"Of course there will be," Cat says cheerily. "I'm so small, how could I take up much room?"

Moments later, I catch Kerry watching with mouth-open horror as Cat carries her two giant makeup caddies down the hallway to their shared bathroom.

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