“Come with me, Kat, and this all ends,” Cristofer calls out.
I twist around and sprint back the way I came, ducking when my wolf snarls a warning.
A crossbow bolt slams into the tree beside me, and I rush back to the schoolroom, flinging the door open. “Get the pups now! Which place is safer? The schoolroom or the bunkhouse?”
Gregor doesn’t hesitate. He motions the pups up from their seats. “The bunkhouse. Let’s go, pups.”
I step aside, watching for signs of Cristofer’s approach and keeping myself between the door and the pups.
The pups are quiet and scared but not panicked as I signal them to come out. Gregor, a calm, steady presence, leads them out of the schoolroom and the few feet to reach the bunkhouse.
As Gregor leads, I follow behind, watching for Cristofer.
There’s no sign of him, but there is a faint sound of a scuffle. Either Wes is up and fighting him, or Marisa is. She’s no longer on the deck.
We get to the bunkhouse, where most of the pack live, and I shove the door open, hurrying the kids inside.
The rest of the pack, who were in the bunkhouse, snatch up the kids and disappear deeper into the building, and I hope the pack who are in the main house stay inside and don’t run out into trouble.
A few members of the pack offer to fight Cristofer, but he’s here for me, not them.
“Stay inside,” I urge them. “He shot Wes, and I think Marisa is on her own out there.”
Gregor is stopping me as I step back out. “Don’t open the door to anyone,” I tell them. “Whatever happens, stay inside.”
He’s talking as I close the door.
As Aren’s mate, I’m Luna.
He’s not here to protect the pack, so I will.
I strip my clothes off and reach for my wolf.
Behind me, I hear people hushing the pups in the bunkhouse. Their voices move farther away, as if they’re hiding them.
Good.
I throw my head back and howl. This was a trap. Not for Aren as I thought, but for me. Cristofer lured Aren and his enforcers away, and they need to come back now.
Finished howling my warning, I put my head down and prepare for battle.
Toward the house, the smell of blood is heavy in the air, mingling with Cristofer’s fresh scent. I inhale deeply. Juniper and sage, overpoweringly so. I track it to a small cabin.
He shot Wes with the crossbow bolt—more than once for Wes to be bleeding that badly.
A lean, dark brown wolf steps out from the cabin.
Cristofer.
I growl at him.
His silvery gray eyes narrow.
Guess he’s decided he doesn’t want me after all. That’s okay, I never wanted him.
I cock my head when a howl goes up in the distance. Aren, responding to my howl.
He’s approaching, but that howl sounded distant. Whatever Cristofer's trap was, it drew him several minutes away.
