“Stay still,” Callisto growls, wheeling in his office chair. He sits down and lifts my legs onto his knee to pick out glass slivers oneby one. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” he asks, dabbing at the blood.
“Zack’s fighting.” My body jerks, and Callisto’s warm hands close firmly around my ankle. Rickon’s grip tightens as well, keeping me tethered to this space that smells of my three alphas. I grab the shirt that smells of Zack from under my pillow and hold it to my nose, breathing deeply.
The combined physical scents lift the fog in my brain, weakening the bond’s grip. My lungs fill properly for the first time.
“It’s so intense,” Rickon wheezes out. He flops his head weakly in Calli’s direction. “Guess you can say ‘I told you so’ now.”
“Stop it,” Calli shoots back. “You’re both handling it just fine. This is Zack we’re talking about, after all.”
I link my fingers through Rickon’s. “He’s fighting for his life,” I repeat, hiccuping as I stare out the window at raindrops tapping on the pane. “And it’s so aggressive and consuming, like a storm in my heart.” I grind one fist to my chest, trying to cancel out the internal pressure. “Call the prison and stop him.”
Callisto’s touch on my legs grows still. “I can’t do that.”
“Why?” I ask, voice rising shrilly.
“Because he told me he plans to take Ray down.” Calisto sighs, shoulders slumping. “If I alert the guards, he’ll be in even more danger, and we might not get him home.”
I jerk upright, holding myself up on one trembling arm. “Zack said that?”
Callisto stares at me, black eyes glimmering with pain. He’s worried about Zack too. Of course he is. This is Ray we’re talking about: the man who never goes down without dragging everyone else with him.
He’ll kill my alpha if it’s the last thing he does.
Tears run down my cheeks, and I open my mouth to tell him what I think of this ridiculous plan, but all reasoning cuts shortas Zack takes things to another level. Spasms rock through me, gripping my lungs, my thoughts, my nerves. It feels like I’m on fire, as if heat fever ravages me.
Does this mean Zack knows what it feels like to be possessed by a heat?
I squeak, clawing for air. Rickon gasps too, and then his eyes roll back and he goes limp.
“Fuck!” Callisto cries, springing onto the bed. “Ricky? Look at me, Ricky!” He taps his pale cheek repeatedly. Rickon’s chest rises and falls with a natural breath, and Callisto spins my way.
Zack senses Rickon’s absence and falters, his fiery rage flickering like a breath blown across a candle flame. Pain flashes up the bond, and I gasp. We can’t distract him now.
“Calli!” I flail for him, hands closing on solid arms. I must hide my terror, and I can think of only one way to manage. “Kiss me!”
My fingers dig deep into Callisto’s biceps, and he rocks toward me, drawn by his omega’s desperate order. Our mouths clash together, full of desperation and longing and all the things that kept us apart since that first ill-fated day. Rational thought sweeps away as I finally kiss my scent-matched alpha.
The fear in my heart fades away, and my body relaxes.
Zack’s presence in the bond rushes in again, overwhelmingly powerful, but Callisto anchors me against the tsunami’s force. His lips bind mine, arms steely around my waist. Unyielding.
Love peppers through me, growing stronger with each passing moment as I wind back the months between me and Callisto, returning to a moment filled with precious, untainted passion and certainty in his arms.
Fear fades away.
I will hold this line, and Zack will fight on.
Just please, survive, I beg through the bond.
Chapter thirty-nine
Zack
My breath comes in sharp heaves as I punch over and over. An ache roars in my head from where an alpha hit me when Ri-ckon snapped loose from the bond. My heartbeat races, but the fear fades as Red surges within, full of confidence and peace. She wouldn’t function if something bad happened to White Mine.
No, this is her way of telling me to do what I must.
I chuckle and duck under an incoming tackle, throwing the stranger into two more attackers. Sweat runs down my spine, and as my fist connects with another man’s jaw, it skids, slippery with blood. I spin, driving my other hand into the alpha’s gut. He grunts and staggers, and I follow it up with a low kick. Fleshy resistance gives way as his bones splinter.
