Page 7 of Depraved
We all freeze. I even hold my breath as I watch the man’s fingers slide down the shifter’s muzzle. The moonlight seems to glow brighter around him as he searches for the carotid artery. Nobody makes a sound.
When the EMT shakes his head, my heart plummets.
No. No.
But the wolf’s chest doesn’t move as Jonah’s did. There’s no breath left in his lungs. No hope. Tears blur my eyes as the goddess drifts her fingertips over the shifter’s fur one last time, giving his soul a stairway made of moonbeams to climb up to the heavens.
Anguish looms in my chest so huge and heavy that I can’t contain it. I close my eyes and within moments, my wolf has taken over my body. Guided by instinct, she pushes me to shift. And once our paws are settled firmly in the rubble, Fluffy leads me to shove my muzzle upward, nose to the sky.
A mournful howl pours from my lips.
Within moments, every Lobo in the vicinity has shifted and joined my wolf’s lament. Our cries fill the sky and mingle there, the sounds clasping onto one another, hugging and harmonizing, sharing the weight of this great sorrow.
For the first time, I comprehend the meaning of the wordpack—and it’s both beautiful and beautifully sad.
3
BLACK
When I get back home,the moon goddess is striding toward the horizon, about to slip away to the other side of the globe. My neck aches, my calves groan, even my nose is exhausted from trying to catch a scent trail. We chased Thomas Stone for hours, but the bastard had anticipated a pursuit and created a maze-like path before he’d even gone down to the pack house. It doubled back on itself more times than a Celtic knot.
I’ve felt rage before this but, underneath the ten layers of exhaustion stacked on my back like boulders, is a white-hot anger stronger than any I’ve ever felt before. This fucker hurt my Lobos. I just got a death total update from Warcraft on the phone. Ten. Ten shifters gone. People with families who depended on them.
When I get my claws onlittleThomas, I’m going to sink them in so deep his body’s gonna look like shredded pork before I’m finished.
I climb out of the Tesla we drove back in, waving goodbye to the elites still in the vehicle.
“Want us to come in?” Hemsworth offers from the driver’s seat. He’s a younger douche of an elite whose chosen pack name grinds on my ears every time one of the young women of the pack murmurs it aloud, but he’s not a bad guy. Arrogant. Overeager. Ready to burn himself out. He actually reminds me of me at that age.
I shake my head. “We need some rest.”
As Hemsworth pulls away, I turn and walk up the steps. I’m thankful to be home. The Georgian place I once thought was a stuffy creation of former pack alphas now feels welcoming. I’m relieved to see it still standing. Part of me wondered about whether Thomas Stone would try to take it out after he took out the pack house. I find I’m glad that’s not the case.
The front door opens, and Warcraft stands in the opening, waiting for me. The tall, normally good-natured alpha’s face is a grim mask as his eyes study me, realizing almost instantly that he’s not going to get good news.
He’s solemn. Stiff. And I know exactly why. The woman he was seeing, Bones, was in that kitchen. I don’t know how serious they were, but I know she’s gone now. It’s part of why I had him stay back with Elena. Just in case they found her. In case she was okay … or in case he needed to say goodbye.
There were no survivors inside.
I open my mouth to give him some sort of condolence, but he gives a brief shake of his head. He’s not ready. I shut up.
“Luna’s good, sir. I’m going to take a break if that’s alright.”
“Of course. Elites are meeting at ten here. Get some rest.”
He acknowledges me with a terse nod before edging around my bulk to retrieve his car from the driveway. I turn and an alpha command threads through my vocal cords without me even trying. “We’ll get him.” It sounds like a growl or an order, but Warcraft turns his head and acknowledges it for what it is. A promise.
Not getting Thomas Stone isn’t an option. It’s not even a possibility. My wolves and I have now been given a new purpose in life: to find and end him.
In a few hours, we’ll regroup and plan. Unlike the other elites, I won’t rest. I’ll caffeinate and sit in my office. I’ll play the game Matthew always sarcastically calls my favorite. He’s named it “Favors and Debts, Bribes and Threats.”
But that’s what needs to be done to secure our borders and ensure that other packs won’t hide little Thomas.
I’m a shadow on my own threshold when I enter that night, a dark presence with a dark purpose, nothing but death on my mind. Death … and a little gray wolf.
I need my mate. I need to bury my nose in her neck and caress every inch of her soft skin and reassure myself that she’s safe. I need to lose myself in her for just a little while. I need to remind myself of all the precious things that we’re protecting.
Matthew appears from the kitchen hallway, a travel mug of coffee steaming in his hand. I can smell the raspberry flavoring from here and my mouth waters. I need to rinse the ashy taste out of it.
