If theMathairsdiscover what she carries… I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to finish the thought. It can’t happen. Ever.
“Two hours will put us back at the private airport,” Mira announces from the front seat. Her voice carries that same satisfied tone she used when bringing in other “traitors” to the Court. “TheMathairswill be pleased we collected both of you so quickly.”
Nia turns in her seat again. “They’ve prepared something special for you, Bridget. A proper welcome home.” She leans closer, dropping her voice to a stage whisper. “Your sister’s been asking for you. Screaming, really.”
Brianna.My beautiful, fierce sister. What have they done to her? What are they still doing to her?
My chest constricts, each breath harder than the last. They’re going to kill Brianna. Emma. Me. Make examples of us. Just like they’ve done countless times before.
The SUV rounds another curve, leaving White Fork in the distance. Through our bond, I feel the first stirring of Bast’s consciousness.No. Not yet. Please not yet.But the bond pulses stronger as he starts to wake.
Don’t follow us,I beg silently.
Confusion ripples through the bond. Bast is awake now, his hand is reaching for my empty side of the bed. Then the gut-wrenching fear crashes through him as he finds the sheets cold.
I’m sorry, I think desperately as his panic floods our connection.I’m so sorry.
But Bast’s rage is building. His desperate need to find me. To save me. The force of it steals my breath.
Please, I beg silently.Please stay safe. I can’t bear to watch them break you.
Tears slip down my cheeks as his fear and rage echo through our connection. The marks around my wrists—his marks, our promise of forever—burn with the distance growing between us.
Each mile feels like it’s tearing out another piece of my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bast O’Connor
Wolves Rising
Cold sheets. That’s what wakes me—the wrong texture against my skin where there should be warmth. Should be Bridget. My hand slides across the empty space beside me, finding only hollow absence where my mate should be sleeping.
Our combined scents linger heavy in the air—her lavender and storms mixing with my pine and earth. But something’s wrong.
I bolt upright, every muscle tensing as I scan the darkness. Waves of fear crash into me. Not my fear—hers. Her terror and guilt slam into my chest, followed by something worse. A goodbye?
No. No no no. She wouldn’t leave. She chose us.
My wolf surges forward with a roar that shakes the cabin walls. The shift ripples under my skin, begging for release, but I hold it back. Barely. Need to think. Need to understand. But all I can focus on is the wrongness of her absence.
The room holds clues my human eyes missed at first. Other scents taint our bedroom—sharp citrus, burnt sage, the metallic tang of foreign magick. At least three distinct female scents.They were organized. Prepared. While I slept like a useless fucking guard dog next to my mate.
“Bridget!” Her name tears from my throat, though I already know she won’t answer. Her scent still clings to the sheets where we made love hours ago. Where she curled against me and finally, completely chose me.
And I let them take her while I fucking slept.
The bond pulses again—she’s moving farther away. The forced distance between us burns like acid in my veins. I close my eyes, focusing on our connection. Her fear mingles with fierce determination now. She’s trying to protect me. Trying to keep me from following.
Fuck that.
I snatch my phone from the nightstand, already dialing as I yank on jeans. Liam answers on the first ring.
“Delta Team took her.” The words come out more growl than speech. “Get to Aiden’s. Now. Check Emma.”
Don’t wait for his response. Hit Aiden’s number next. Bridget’s terror spikes again, and my wolf howls.
Hold on, I push confidence and strength through our bond.I’m coming for you. No matter what it takes.
