Page 4 of The Awakened Wolf

“Elyse!” Kiana’s bark cut off my last howl, and I skidded to a stop as she blocked my path. She leaned forward as if she were going in for a head nuzzle and then froze, her gaze traveling over my shoulders to Jesmyn and the stumbling, bumbling river of new wolves behind us. Her hackles rose, and she stepped back.“It worked.”

“It did,” I gasped, my lungs and throat burning. “They’ll follow me anywhere, but I don’t know where that should be.”

Kiana’s whiskers twitched. “That’s why you follow me.”

Chapter Two

Kiana led the way, but she didn’t know where we were going any more than I did. How could she? We were deep beneath the surface of another Alpha’s borough, following the scent of every shifter he’d already guided to safety. Sebastian had steered me and Evan through a similar series of tunnels the night Charlie was murdered, but I’d mostly blocked that memory, and now I knew why.

The air down here was clouded with dust that had lay still for who knew how long before our packmates kicked it up, and the farther we trod, the more the stone walls seemed to encroach on our human shoulders. It didn’t help that I was hemmed in from behind by my shuffling mob of werewolf pups with no way of knowing whether they were being followed by Mateo or the NYPD.

Max’s loyal Beta had been waiting for us at the tunnel’s secret entrance, using his mental powers to make sure it stayed a secret. Judging from the strain on his face as he ushered us through, he was also the reason no one had opened fire during our retreat. I didn’t know him well enough to know if he’d have done the same for anyone or just the daughters of the only female he’d ever loved—long after she left him for our father; her fated mate.

She had no choice!

I know, I know. Believe me I know.

I did my best to tune out my wolf’s heartbroken keening as we crept toward an unknown refuge, the scattering of sallow bulbs trapped in rusty cages along the way barely opening a peephole in the darkness. Just enough to provide an occasional glimpse of Evan ahead of me, moving sideways like a crab to keep Jesmyn’s limbs clear of the walls. She clung to his neck, gazing at his handsome profile with the same foolish puppy-dog eyes he’d once earned from teenage me.

Don’t even think about it!

Don’t even think about me thinking about it!

Finally, after what felt like hours but might have been minutes, we reached the end of the tunnel and entered what appeared to be a long-abandoned subway station. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out in relief. The light on the platform was a bit better with fewer blown bulbs than inside the tunnel, and it was clear humans had been here at some point in time—every inch of wall was covered in a kaleidoscopic graffiti fresco. But scenting the air with Kiana, I couldn’t detect any now.

And no Sebastian either, my wolf moaned.

I felt his absence deep inside my core, but with all of my illegitimate children suddenly crowding around me, there was no time for despair. These were people that other people were going to be missing before the day was over.

“Whashh hapning?” An older female to my right attempted to ask, her half-shifted mouth turning her words into gibberish. The frustrated whine that followed kicked my already pounding heart into fast-forward.

“Wherr nnngooinng?” This came from a male who’d cinched his hood so tight that only his brand new shiny black nose peeked out.

I tried not to stare at any of them too hard, but my gaze kept being drawn like a magnet to the female in pink who was the spitting image of Charlie. She scratched at the pointed ear protruding from her human head, and my stomach turned. Maybe spitting image wasn’t fair. Luckily, raised male voices tore my attention away from my monstrous spawn before I could retch.

“What the hell happened to our plan? We lost six members of SecPack, and another four took bites from those…those…what were those wolves?”

“And who was the man who released them, Alpha Max?”

The two males addressing Max were both from Manhattan, but a semi-circle of shifters from both packs had gathered around him beneath a patch of wall tiles declaring this the 91st Street station. Too many were growling or moaning from wounds like his own. I glanced at Jesmyn in Evan’s arms, her face a mask of pain in spite of her hopelessly infatuated gaze. Why weren’t they healing yet?

“I don’t know more than you do, Andrew,” Max grunted, cradling his bloody arm.

Beside me, Kiana sighed. “These males have no idea how to prioritize.” She started to move away and then paused, squinting at my face. “Are you bitten? You look bad.”

She’d never been so generous in her assessment. A cold sweat had broken out all over me, soaking my hairline and underarms, and my nervous system was dancing a jitterbug. I wanted to sprint back into the black hole of a tunnel with my eyes closed until I burst out into the open air of the park, but that wasn’t an option.

With my best tough-ass nod, I said, “No, I’m fine. Go take care of your pack.”

Her brow furrowed, a momentary pinch before she strode away, muscles rippling beneath her shiftskin. “Max,” she called out, her voice authoritative. “The Bronx will organize the wounded while you and I regroup.”

I watched as my former packmates followed her barked commands without question. Within minutes, the wounded from both packs had been gathered and organized, along with all the food, water, and dry clothing the Manhattan pack apparently kept down here. Under different circumstances I’d have waffled between frustration that she was so good at what should’ve been my job and relief that I would never have to do it. Now though, holding off the welling panic took all the emotion I could muster.

“Whhoo 1ou?” Hoodie-guy tugged on my arm, and I turned with a gasp. The newborns had encircled me, whimpering for attention, some wagging tails like this was all a grand adventure while others were examining their clawed—or pawed—limbs with naked horror in their mostly human eyes. I swayed on my feet.

“Whoa.” Evan used Jesmyn’s feet to steady me. “You do look bad.”

“Thanks.” I glared at him. “You know I don’t do well with tight spaces.”

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