“Zayn, no!”I stumble, nearly falling as I witness him being overwhelmed, attackers piling on like wolves on a fallen stag.
“Keep moving, Cleo!” Dad yanks me forward.
“Zayn!”Tears blur my vision, hot and angry. The bond between us pulses with desperation, our connection a physical thing I’m not ready to sever.
“Go, Cleo!”Zayn’s command reverberates through me, a mixture of love and something darker, something that tastes like goodbye. My wolf howls in my head as she tries to come forward. Zayn’s command rolls over her, making her wail in my head. I choke back a sob, torn between the need to stay and fight and the instinct to submit to Zayn’s command when my father slaps me so hard my surroundings jolt. Only then do I realize we have stopped by the tree line.
“Get it together. And keep fucking moving!” my father snarls. I blink at him, and he raises his hand again to slap me when I hear Zayn’s voice in my head. His command smashing against me like a sledgehammer, making my entire body rigid.
“Get out of here, Cleo, go with your father!”Zayn’s command is like an electric jolt lancing up my spine as he tosses his full weight behind it.
My father, recognizing I am in a mindlink, drops his hand, then yanks my arm. As we plunge into the thick underbrush that lines the edge of pack territory. My legs pump harder, my lungs burn, and behind me, the sounds of battle fade into a haunting silence that tells me all I need to know.
We’re alone now. And Zayn, he’s in the hands of Alpha Dane.
Darting through the trees, my heart hammers against my rib cage, a frenzied beat urging me on. Every inhale sharpens the metallic scent of blood and violence that hangs heavy in the air behind us. Dad’s hand is an iron clamp around my arm, pulling me forward.
“Keep your eyes ahead, Cleo!” he barks, his voice barely audible over the thunder of my own pulse in my ears.
“Focus, Cleo! We need to—” Dad’s words cut off as we skid to a halt. Ahead, the path narrows, and for a heartbeat, we’re exposed.
“Through there,” he instructs, nodding toward a barely visible break in the underbrush. “It’s a shortcut.”
I nod, pushing my legs faster. Dane’s pack involved; Zayn’s secretive behavior this morning—it clicks together like puzzle pieces locking into place. It’s all connected. But how. Dane’s men attack the one time he isn’t at the packhouse? Betrayal lingers bitter on my tongue, a taste I dread yet can’t deny.
“Can you still sense him?” Dad’s question pierces my thoughts. “Cleo, can you sense Zayn still?” Dad snaps at me.
“Zayn?” My voice cracks. “Yes, it’s fading—he’s…” The bond between us, once a blazing fire, now flickers weakly, a candle with its flame growing weaker.
“Zayn will be fine,” Dad says, his eyes fierce slits of determination. “We’ll regroup and figure this out.”
We plunge deeper into the forest, the world blurring into streaks of green and brown.
“Did you know?” I gasp between breaths, the question clawing its way out. “About Dane?”
He shakes his head, jaw set hard. “I knew something was off. There were talks of it, I didn’t think it would be today. Trust between Alphas is thin, but your mate has started a war.”
I’m about to demand to know what he knows when he growls and glares at me.
“Later,” Dad says sharply. “Now, we run.”
Branches lash at my skin, leaving fiery streaks in their wake. I push the pain aside, focusing on the rhythmic thud of our escape. The forest is a maze, yet my father navigates it like he has a damn map, making me more suspicious of him. Why is he so familiar with Zayn’s pack territory?
“Almost there,” he assures me as we reach a narrow creek, the water whispering secrets I’m not sure I want to hear.
“Where will we go?”
“Safe house,” he replies. “We’ll plan our next move.”
“What about Lydia and Linda?”
“They’re safe. Dane doesn’t want them,” he tells me. His words make no sense; why would Dane want me now, when he knows I won’t marry Boyd?
With one last surge of effort, we cross the creek, the cool water splashing against my heated skin, stealing the air from my lungs at the suddenness of it. My clothes become drenched and heavier as we cross.
“Trust me, Cleo,” Dad says, reading my turmoil. “We’ll get him back.”
Chapter 31
