Page 71 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
As she walks away, I scan the crowd, looking for a familiar face in a witch’s hat. Emma should be helping Liam close down the petting zoo by now. My chest tightens at the thought of her, our omega, our mate.
A commotion near the barn catches my attention—screams—not the playful kind from the haunted attractions, but genuine alarm. I break into a run, pushing through costumed visitors.
“What the hell?”
The petting zoo gate stands wide open. Chickens scatter across the pathway while rabbits hop between visitors’ feet. Two staff members pursue a pony as it trots toward the pumpkin patch.
“The animals are loose!” someone shouts unnecessarily.
Through the chaos, I spot a group of teenagers in skeleton costumes darting between the animal pens, opening gates, and creating havoc. Liam charges after them, his face a semblance of not-so-controlled fury.
“Get the rabbits first!” he shouts to the staff. “And someone catch Buttercup!”
I’m about to join the chase when Theo appears beside me, panting, his pirate hat askew.
“Have you seen Emma?” he asks, eyes wide with alarm.
“No, I thought she was with Liam at the petting zoo.”
“She’s not. Liam lost his phone and thought she was with you.”
A cold weight settles in my stomach. “When’s the last time you saw her?”
“About twenty minutes ago—”
Theo stops abruptly when a familiar bleating cuts through the chaos. Maple charges toward us, her tiny devil horns askew, bleating more frantically than I’ve ever heard.
We freeze, exchanging looks of dawning horror.
“Emma,” I breathe.
Maple turns and runs back the way she came, stopping to look over her shoulder with an unmistakable command to follow.
“The maze,” Theo says, already moving.
We sprint after the goat, shoving past confused visitors. Liam abandons his pursuit of the animals and skeleton-clad teenagers, falling in step beside us without a word.
Maple leads us through the maze with unerring speed. As we near the back that borders the forest, we see it. A few corn stalks have been chopped down, and an opening leads out of the maze towards the forest.
We charge forward into the forest. Then I smell it.
Emma. Her scent has intensified. All-consuming.
Heat. She’s in heat.
But mixed with the sharp tang of her fear.
“She’s being dragged,” Liam growls, pointing to the disturbed earth. “Someone’s taking her.”
A feral rage rises in me, clouding my vision with red. My alpha instincts howl for blood, violence, and protection of what’s mine. I don’t think—I run, following that sweet scent.
We burst through the tree line to find a nightmare scene. Emma, struggling weakly against Man’s grip as he drags her toward a waiting car. Around them, more men in skeleton costumes, adults, not teenagers, form a protective circle.
“Let her go!” I roar, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.
The man turns, his perfect face twisting into a sneer. “Too late. She’s already mine.” He inhales deeply, showing appreciation for Emma’s heat scent. “Smell that? She’s ready to be claimed. By a real alpha.”
“Marcus,” Liam growls beside me, his face transformed by rage.
