Finding something to soothe the bruises, I walk back into the bathroom to a sullen Havoc. My heart breaks for him and her. We need to get her back, and we need to do it fast.
“We have less than 12 hours.” Havoc mumbles. I can see the despair. The tremble in his body is telling him he failed our Pack, his omega. But if he couldn’t have saved her, no one could have. Nothing was stopping the Fallon Pack from getting Noa. They were playing on a whole different battlefield. We didn’t know the desperation they would have over her.
We have to fix this. Together.
“I know.” I say, kneeling in front of him and applying the ointment gently, barely brushing my fingers over his skin. I really hope nothing internally is hurt. After we get Noa back, we are going to the doctor whether or not he likes it.
“She might not last–”
“She survived two years with them,” I say, despite the words tasting awful in my mouth. I hate the thought of her being with them, but we can bank on one thing, and that’s that they want her alive. “She’s strong, Havoc. She can last until we get her.”
He grunts, and I continue tending to his bruises. More for my sake than his. I need something to do with my hands as we wait for Silas to get back from the rental car station. With my tattoos and Havoc’s lack of history, they wouldn’t take us seriously. Silas is our best chance, and even that might not help.
My Pack is in danger. Old habits die hard, and the itch for violence is creeping up.
“Thorne, sit.” Havoc’s voice snaps me out of my spiral, and I glare at him.
“I’m not a damn dog,” I spit, despite knowing he’s only trying to help. I move, leaving him in the bathroom, or so I thought, because I hear his footsteps following me to the living room.
I sit on the couch, feeling beyond useless. Sitting here on this soft velvet couch while our omega is outthere fighting for her life. I stand back up, pacing the living room. Otis comes flopping in, and the living room feels that much smaller. The velvet couch needs ripping, and the lamp should be shattered across the room, but I keep my hands in my pockets. My fingers are ripping at the sidewalls of my nails.
“Thorne.” Havoc’s voice soothes me a bit, but the rage sits too deep.
“You’re hurt,” I mutter, and he laughs. I stop pacing, confused about what in the fuck could be funny right now.
“I know,” he says, and pets his thigh to have Otis stand by him. Probably safer that way. I can’t seem to find my control.
“Center yourself.”
“There’s no time.” And there’s no ice. No pucks, no nets. Nothing but me, my injured mate, and my missing omega.
“We’ll find her,” Havoc says. I stare at him. Trying to figure out if there’s a hidden message, trying to figure out if he knows something that I don’t know, and if he does, why hasn’t he said it?
“How do you know? They can have her in a whole new state by now.”
“Exactly. A whole new state. In a car that they’re renting. They’re desperate. They’ll make a mistake.” He goes silent. His eyes focus on a spot on the wall behind me. Otis whines, and I look around my house. Myhome. The two words ring in my mind as my eyes dart to Havoc. The one place we both came after a traumatic event is home.
Alphas are typically smart, but more importantly, their sense of possession controls them. Patterns and routines become important, and most of all, they control. People think that an alpha’s sense of possession only takes place in their omega, in their Pack, but it’s more than people. Control and possession extend to things and places as well. An alpha’s home is their home arena.
Looks like we know exactly where to go. They’re taking my omega to their home, in Ohio.
“Where did Noa say she lived? They couldn’t have been far from her childhood home.”
“I can find the address; we just have to get there.”
“How?”
Havoc ignores my standing from the couch and walks towards the door. “Otis, come,” Havoc grabs his leash. “He’ll stay with Timber and Kane; Ollie will force them to watch him so we can be with Noa.”
“Ollie won’t let us save her on our own,” I say already knowing that hellhound will lose her shit once she knows Noa is in danger.
“That’s what her alphas are for. We don’t know what we are walking into. They won’t let her come with us, and more importantly, we need someone here, just in case.”
“Will that work?” I’m grasping at straws, doubt spreading in my brain. Getting to the car, it roars to life.
“It has to.” He says his focus is on his phone. “The best way to ensure Noa’s safety is if we beat them to Ohio.”
“How?” I ask. They already have an hour head start on us.
