We pull to a stop around a block away. Rogue’s fingers flex on the steering wheel. Our bond is full of fear and determination. It must be hitting him like a freight train.
Devlin passes me a pair of infrared goggles, and I slip them over my ears, flicking the switch. The three men around me flash green.
Rogue’s cell rings, and he presses the button to answer. “We’re here.”
Christian’s furious voice echoes through. “We’ve picked up potential activity around an omega in heat in the area you’re heading to. Apparently, there’s an illegal auction running.”
Horror seizes my throat.An auction. Harper.
“Be careful,” Christian continues. “Call me when you can.”
Rogue stabs the phone to end the call and sits for a moment, his hands flexing on the wheel of the van as he bows his head. The waves of dominance pulsing from him are so strong that I push myself back, battling the urge to bare my throat.
“Right,” he says after a minute. “We need to focus. We have a plan, we will execute the plan and we willbring her home.”
This is our pack leader. His voice is pure ice, his face expressionless as he throws instructions to Dev and Ace. He softens slightly when he reaches me and touches me on the shoulder.
“Stay safe,” he orders, and I nod. I’m not planning on being a hero. I just want to bring our girl home. And I’ll happily kill anyone who stands in my way.
We edge closer to the building, all of us with our goggles on as we scan for any guards. Rogue holds up his hand and we pause. He motions to Ace and he slinks past us, disappearing into the shadows.
I spot two guards at the entrance of the warehouse. They’re not paying attention, chatting casually with their arms crossed, guns slung over their shoulders.
Serious fucking error of judgment, assholes.
Ace explodes out of the shadows behind them. He’s at the second before the first can even raise a hand to his throat, gurgling as the blood slips out and he drops to his knees. Guard two gets the same treatment and Ace scans his perimeter before giving us a thumbs up.
“Go,” Rogue says, and Devlin moves ahead, scope up as he checks for threats.
Ace pauses at the doors of the warehouse, listening for any activity. He shakes his head as we edge up to him, his eyes darting to me. “Nothing,” he murmurs, shooting a look at Rogue for orders.
Rogue takes a second to consider as Devlin keeps his scope up, scanning for any further guard activity.
“Go,” he says, and Ace cracks open the door. We all rock back at the punch of cinnamon and orange. It’s bitter and twisted, the scent twisting my insides in a sharp snap of want. Devlin growls behind me and my heart clenches in fear as my knees threaten to buckle.We’re coming, love. Just hold on.
I try to avoid breathing deeply, forcing the stiffness in my pants away as we head in. The warehouse is empty, freezing cold air causing my breath to puff out in front of me. Harper’s scent is raking my stomach with needy claws, but I force myself to focus. I won’t be the weak link on this mission.
There’s a tugging in my stomach urging me to the end of the warehouse, and I motion to Rogue, pointing in the direction I want to go. He nods, and I wonder if he feels the same pull.
We all move in as the scent grows stronger. I list slightly at the sheer bombardment, shaking my head to clear it.
Then something shatters the silence.
A low keen echoes through the doorway. It’s undeniably Harper, and it’s filled with so much agony that it pulls an answering moan from my own throat. My heart jumps, and then we’re all sprinting.
She needs us.
Rogue reaches the door first and yanks it open. The scent was strong before but that wasnothingto how it feels now. Harper’s heat is a knife to my solar plexus, a compulsion that demands I go to her. Twisted, burning pain.
Needs me.
My eyes glaze over as the urge to rut threatens to overwhelm me.
A whine breaks the silence, and our heads whip to the center of the room. Fuckinggods.
My heart shatters as I stare at her, any thoughts of rutting vanishing from my mind.
Harper’s naked body is twisted, shackles binding her to a metal table. Sweat beads on her body as she writhes, an odd shape to her left shoulder that tells me it’s popped out of the socket.
