Letting out a heavy sigh, I move to take a seat at the kitchen table, thumbing through a few emails about Morrison’s shipment. Everything is ready,hopefully, to go off without a hitch, and then I’m taking a long ass hiatus to focus on my pack. I swipe through a few more things, losing interest when every hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Dustin walks into the kitchen, his phone clutched in his hand and his face pale. Something is wrong.Very wrong.My stomach drops before he even opens his mouth. Dustin doesn't scare easily. He faces down angry horses and dangerous criminals with the same easy confidence. But right now, he looks like he's about to fall apart.
"Stefan says he needs me," Dustin cries, his voice shaking. "He's on his way over. I can't..."
He breaks off, his eyes filling with tears that spill over and track down his cheeks. His whole body starts to tremble, his hand gripping his phone so hard his knuckles have gone white. I've never seen Dustin like this, not in all the years we've been together. He's the easy-going one, the one who laughs off problems and finds joy in simple things. Seeing him on the verge of breaking down sends alarm bells ringing through my head.
"What the fuck is wrong?" I stand, moving around the table toward him.
Dustin can barely get words out, his breath coming in short gasps that sound dangerously close to hyperventilating. Whatever Stefan told him has him completely rattled. He tries to speak but only manages a choked sound before more tears fall.
I don't waste time trying to get answers from him. Whatever is happening, Stefan is on his way here and that means I need to secure Solana first. I grab my phone and dial her number, praying she actually took it with her.
She answers on the second ring, slightly breathless. "Kade?"
"Get back to the house," I say, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Now."
"Is everything—"
"Now, Solana."
She must hear the urgency in my voice because I hear her footsteps quicken, moving from grass to gravel. A few seconds later, her head pops around the back door, her eyes wide with concern. Moo-Shu tries to follow her inside but I point firmly at the porch.
"Stay," I tell the cow, using the same Alpha voice that makes even the most stubborn horses listen. Moo-Shu plants his feet and stays put, though he looks distinctly unhappy about it. "Bedroom, now, lock the door," I tell Solana, my attention split between her and Dustin's tear-stained face.
She sees Dustin and immediately moves toward him, her instincts reacting to his distress. "Dustin, what's wrong? What happened?"
Questions form on her lips, but I can't deal with what I don't even understand yet. Every second she stands here is a second she's potentially in danger from whatever is coming.
"Sweetheart, please," I say, putting every ounce of Alpha authority I have into my voice. "I'll explain everything but fuck, please just go."
She flinches slightly but obeys immediately, years of conditioning making her respond to that tone before her rational mind can process. She rushes past us down the hall, Moo-Shu managing to slip past me before I can stop the damn cow.
I hear their footsteps down the hall, then the bedroom door clicking shut and the lock engaging seconds later. She's safe, contained, and away from whatever shitstorm is about to walk through my door.
I return my attention to Dustin, who's still clutching his phone like it's the only thing keeping him upright. His face is blotchy from crying, his eyes red and swollen as he lets out a shuddering breath, trying to get himself under control.
Pulling my little Alpha into my chest, the sound of hooves galloping up the back way through the forest hit my ears. It’s not the steady pace of a leisurely ride but the desperate speed of someone running from something. Or toward help.
I pull up the camera feed covering that trail, the one we use for moving livestock and conducting business we don't want observed from the main road. The screen flickers to life, showing Stefan on horseback, hunched low over the animal's neck and riding like the devil himself is chasing him.
But it's what he's carrying that makes my blood run cold. An Omega slumped against his chest, barely conscious from what I can see on the grainy feed. Stefan has one arm wrapped around the Omega's waist, holding him in place while the other hand grips the reins.
Everything becomes a blur of motion. I move toward the back door before I fully process what I'm seeing, Dustin right behind me. His tears have stopped, replaced by the same focused intensity I feel.
The back door slams open and Stefan stumbles in, his arms wrapped around the Omega. Blood stains both their clothes, though I can't immediately tell whose it is. Stefan looks rough, his face pale and covered in bruises that are already turning purple. There's a cut above his eyebrow that's still bleeding, dripping down the side of his face.
But the Omega in his arms looks worse. Much worse.
"Guest bedroom," I bark, already moving in that direction.
Stefan follows, the Alpha favoring his left leg, limping badly enough that I know he's injured, too. We reach the guest room as he carefully lays the Omega down on the bed, his movements surprisingly gentle despite his own obvious pain.
The young man groans at the movement, his face scrunching up in pain. He's pale, almost gray, his breathing shallow and too fast. Then he rolls over and pukes all over the floor, his whole body heaving with the effort. The vomit is tinged pink, concerning but not immediately life-threatening.
I step back to avoid the mess, my mind already cataloging injuries and assessing what needs immediate attention. Bruises mottle the Omega’s face and arms, some old and yellowing, others fresh and dark purple. There's a particularly nasty one on his jaw, swollen and discolored. His lip is split, crusted with dried blood. Both his hands are scraped raw, most likely defensive wounds from trying to protect himself.
Stefan sways on his feet, looking like he might collapse at any moment. I grab his arm and force him to sit in the chair beside the bed before he falls over and adds to my problems.
