Havoc plays through my mind. I’d seen him running, trying to remember what happened after that, but I can’t. What happened to my alpha? My stomach drops, as if it could any further, as realization sets in. Havoc would not have let them take me. He would fight–a sob breaks through my lips as the thought forms. He would fight to the end to save me.
Panic fills my blood. I thrash around, trying everything. My bond! I focus on that, but the bond with Havoc is weak. No, my alpha, is he okay? I need him to be okay. I can feel that he’s not, and it sends my omega and me into a panic.
“Omega, you smell so fucking good,” he growls and bites the side of my exposed thigh. I’m really regretting wearing a short skirt despite how hot my entire body is. How was I supposed to know they’d kidnap me today? Or ever. I knew my heat would start soon, but today? Of all days?
I should have been prepared.
Still, just because I failed doesn’t mean I can’t try again. I pound on Mayfield’s back. Which he hardly feels, so I force my knee into his chest so hard hethrows me off his shoulder. My back slams into the ground, and my whole body withers from the pain of that, and another cramp slices my stomach. I’m drenched in sweat, and I need… I need my alphas.
I whine as the wrong hands are on me again.
“No, please,” I whimper, trying to get away, gripping the dirt. I flip onto my stomach, try to find purchase in the grass, and crawl away. My body increasingly gets harder to control as I perfume so much I can smell myself, the sour scent making me more chillingly scared.
“You should have thought of that before running away,” Jackson says, ripping me from the ground and dragging my body to the door. The door is the same beige color it was before. The same color I’d stare at for hours on end, wishing, hoping, I’d walk out of here and never return.
And here I am. Again. Every memory I have floods back. Shaking my head, trying to rip them, I grip my hair, trying to force myself back to reality.
I got away once. I can do it again, right?
The house smells the same, a mix of the alphas with a musk I can’t place. I can’t focus on anything much more than the pain, my heat and the memories making it hard to breathe normally. Maybe I’ll pass out and sleep through this nightmare of heat.
The stairs come into view, and I nearly faint at thethought of being dragged up them, but then Jackson turns, and takes me to what once was the pantry in the kitchen.
“Since you don’t know how to behave, this is your new nest. Shouldn’t take you too long to get to the kitchen now, huh, omega?” The acid in my throat threatens to come up as I’m picked up and shoved into the pantry. My back hits the shelves as my foot stumbles over a single blanket. The darkness greets me and sends me into a fear-induced frozen state as my hands grip the pantry shelves, trying to keep myself upright.
I hear the lock, and despite the pain and need for a knot, I’m so grateful they aren’t trying to use my heat to satisfy themselves. I have to get out of here before they get the bright idea to do so.
But how? Another cramp slices through me, and I fall to my knees, the wood floor under me gracing my knees once again. The thought makes the sob stuck in my throat burst out. I attempt to look around, feeling my way through the dark space.
They took the bottom shelves out of this pantry and at least put a single pillow and blanket in here. The blanket is cheap polyester that itches my skin, and the yellow-stained pillow is so flat I might as well lay directly on the wood floor. The tears that’ve waited so long to break through do flow freely now. One after another, I sob. Raking my hands through my hair despite the dirt under my nails.
I try the handle, knowing they locked it, and my heart still plummets when the handle doesn’t move.
What do I do now?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THORNE
Havoc and Noa. Hurt and missing. The two names terrorize my mind as I drive home. At least I have Havoc here with me. The paramedics wanted to admit him overnight, but he wouldn’t let them touch him. Instead, they told me what to look out for, and I took him home.
He wanted a wet rag to clean up. He instantly starts rumbling about a plan, and as much as I agree with him, Noa isn’t the only member of our Pack hurt right now.
“Let me see your side,” I say, trying to lift his shirt as he’s sitting on the toilet seat in the first-level bathroom. Otis, our always excited boy, is standing with his tail wagging in the bathroom doorway as I help Havoc clean up.
“No.”
“This is not the time. The longer you make me wait, the longer it’ll be till we save–”
“Don’t.” He growls, cutting me off. I’m not a sympathetic guy. I know he is the only one with a bond with her, but the tough-guy act will not bring her back.
“You can’t go into this after being hit by a fucking car.”
“Says who?” he grumbles.
“Says me, your mate, you fucking idiot.” I yank his shirt, no longer giving him a choice, and I have to withhold my reaction. If I overreact to the black and purple bruising completely covering the left side of his body, he won’t let me help.
“I have a cream or something,” I say, and leave the bathroom. I huff, trying to catch my breath; seeing my mate like that has completely knocked the wind out of me.
