The mate bond flickered in and out. Usually it was a hot wire under my ribs, but now it was a radio tuned to a dead station—static and silence, sometimes a pulse of feeling so faint I thought I’d imagined it.
Once, I dreamed I was drowning. I woke to find Wrecker on top of me, shivering, his arms wrapped so tight around my ribs I couldn’t breathe. His lips were blue, his face sunken. I pried his hands off and rolled him back, but he just reached for me again, like a child afraid of the dark. I lay down next to him, let him hold me, and closed my eyes. There wasn’t enough of me left to keep us both afloat.
The next time I surfaced, the room was strange. The window was open, a sheet flapped in the air. The clock read 2:17 AM, but the house was lit up like a convenience store. I heard a sound from the kitchen—footsteps, heavy and deliberate.
I tried to get up, but my legs wouldn’t listen. I rolled onto the floor, crawling, using the dresser for leverage. Every inch sent a bolt of pain through my temples. I got to my feet, nearly blacked out, and staggered to the bedroom door.
Another sound. A voice—male, guttural, not Wrecker’s. Words in the hallway, then the hollow ring of boots on tile.
Maybe Menace’s team had gotten here. Finally. I relaxed and let sleep take me.
I woke to cold metal biting at my wrists. I tried to sit up, but the chains snapped taut, pinning me to the headboard. My first thought was that I’d been left for dead. Second thought: this wasn’t my bed, not Wrecker’s, not even Bronc’s, but something older. Gray walls, rough and unfinished. Heavy curtains hung over the window, which were closed but leaked light at the edges. The only furniture was a nightstand, a large dresser, and a wing-backed chair.
He was there in the chair, waiting for me. Silas Drake.
He looked completely satisfied with himself. Facial scars less noticeable. His beard was neatly trimmed, bald head freshly shaved. His clothes were black, sharp, expensive. He was not smiling, but there was a hunger in his eyes that was worse than a smile.
He leaned in, elbows on knees. “Hello, my little hacker. Welcome back to the land of the living. I was afraid I’d lost you.”
I growled at him and showed my teeth.
He laughed, genuinely amused. “Still got your spirit. Good. You’ll need it.”
My head throbbed. The fever was gone, but in its place was a deep, icy ache in my bones. I tried to reach for the mate bond, but it was absent, not even a flicker. My heart stuttered, then flatlined into panic.
“What did you do to him?” I rasped.
“To who?” He cocked his head, mocking innocence. “Oh, you mean Wrecker. Or Bronc, or Maddie, or Doc, or anyone else who tried to stand up to me.” He grinned. “Nothing personal, Parker. Just business. Anyway, I did nothing. No need. Just let nature take its course.”
I scanned the room for a weapon, a key, anything. The chains were thick, bolted to the bed frame. I flexed against them, testing the give. None.
“Why am I alive?” I asked. “Why not just kill me?”
He stood, stretched, paced to the window. Sunlight struck his face, making the scar on his cheek burn white. “Because you’re useful. And because I like you. Always have.” He walked over and ran a finger down my jaw. I jerked away, but he just laughed.
“You always were a fighter,” he said. “I’ve seen it since I started watching you.”
I swallowed my fear. “What do you want?”
He smiled. “What I’ve always wanted. Power. Control. Revenge.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “But most of all, I want to see Iron Valor burned to the ground. You’ll help me do it.”
“Go to hell,” I said.
He leaned in, close enough for me to smell the coffee on his breath. “I’ve already been. Came back with a souvenir.” He fished something out of his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. A vial, stoppered with red wax. Inside, a swirling black fluid, oily and alive.
“The demon’s mark,” he said, as if reading my mind. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Engineered for wolves, but it doesn’t discriminate. Hits everyone the same. Except you.”
I looked at him, icy rage rising. “Why me?”
“Because you’re clever, and because I want you to watch what you did to your precious pack. I want you to feel it.” He set a hand on my knee, squeezed until my bones creaked. “You’re immune now. Congratulations.”
I thought of Wrecker, burning up in that bed, alone.
I said, “You’re lying. If you’d killed him, you’d brag about it.”
He grinned, wolfish. “Not dead yet. But by the time anyone gets there to help, they will be. That’s how you set a trap, Parker. You starve the animal, and when it’s weak, you take its head.”
I twisted away, bile in my throat.
