Then we just have to figure out how to get past the guards, out of the compound, and back to Silvercreek before Rafe’s explosives turn everything I love into rubble.
I twist the ropes again and feel another fiber snap.
Chapter 21 - Bryan
Luna’s magic settles over us like a second skin, and the world goes quiet.
Dylan and Connor flank me, and I can feel Caleb’s nervous presence at my back, but the forest around us has become muted and distant. Colors seem duller. Sounds seem farther away. It’s like moving through a dream, except the weight of the pounding of my heart reminds me this is very, very real.
“Twenty minutes,” Luna whispered before we left. Her face was pale with the effort of casting such a powerful concealment spell, and Ruby stood beside her with one hand on her arm to help channel the magic. “Maybe less if something disrupts my concentration. Get in, get Skylar, get out. Don’t waste time.”
I don’t intend to waste a single second.
The compound rises out of the mountainside like a scar on the landscape. Rusted chain-link fencing surrounds the perimeter, topped with razor wire that glints in the moonlight. Guard towers are erected at each corner, though only two of them appear to be manned tonight. The thermal imaging showed twenty wolves on patrol, but most of them must be focused on the front gate now, where Nic and the main pack are staging their distraction.
Right on cue, the sound of howling erupts from the western side of the compound. Shouts follow, then snarls, then the unmistakable sounds of wolves engaging in combat. The guards in the towers spin toward the commotion, their attention fixed on the fighting at the main entrance.
Perfect.
“Now,” I order, and we move.
The service entrance is exactly where Caleb said it would be. It’s a rusted metal door set into the eastern wall, half-hidden by overgrown brush and years of neglect. I reach it first and test the handle. Locked, but the mechanism is old and corroded. One hard yank, and it gives way with a screech of protesting metal.
I freeze and wait for any sound of alarm. None comes. The noise from the front gate has covered our breach, just as we hoped.
“Inside,” I command, and the others follow me through.
The tunnel beyond is dark and smells like mold and diesel fuel. Water drips somewhere in the distance, and the sound ricochets off walls that haven’t seen maintenance in years, from the looks of them. Caleb comes up beside me and points left at the first junction, just like Dina described to Skylar. I commit the route to memory as we move. Left, straight through the maintenance corridor, down two flights of stairs, then right toward the holding cells.
The maintenance corridor stretches ahead of us, lined with rusted pipes and exposed electrical wiring. Some of the overhead fixtures still work, while others have burned out, leaving patches of darkness that could hide anything. I keep my senses as alert as I can manage despite Luna’s spell muffling everything as I strain to detect any sign of movement ahead.
We encounter our first guard at the bottom of the second stairwell. He’s young, barely out of his teens, with a patchy beard and nervous eyes that go wide when he sees us emerge from the shadows. He doesn’t even have time to call out before Dylan is on him. One hand over his mouth, one arm around his throat, and thirty seconds later, the kid slumps unconscious to the floor.
“Alive?” I ask.
Dylan nods. “He’ll wake up with a headache, but he’ll wake up.”
Good. I’m not here to slaughter Rafe’s entire pack. I’m here to get Skylar and get out. Anyone who doesn’t get in my way gets to keep breathing. Anyone who does... Well, that’s their choice to make.
We move farther into the compound, keeping our footsteps barely audible against the concrete. The second guard is stationed at a junction point, leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone like he’s got nothing better to do. Connor takes him down from behind before he even knows we’re there. The third one—a burly wolf with a scar across his nose—puts up more of a fight. He manages to land a punch that splits Connor’s lip before Dylan gets him in a chokehold and squeezes until he goes limp.
The fourth guard spots us from the end of a corridor and opens his mouth to shout. I’m on him before the sound can leave his throat, and I clamp my hand over his mouth as I drag him into the shadows. He struggles, but I’ve got fifty pounds of muscle on him and ten years of Black Ops training. He doesn’t stand a chance.
“The cells,” I growl against his ear. “Where are they?”
He tries to bite my palm, so I squeeze harder until I feel his jaw creak under my fingers.
“Last door on the right,” he gasps when I ease up enough for him to speak. “Two prisoners. The healer and some other woman.”
I knock him out with a blow to the temple and let his body slide to the floor.
The last door on the right, twenty feet away. I can smell her now—honeysuckle and herbs mixed with blood and fear and something chemical that makes my wolf snarl with rage. They drugged her. They hurt her. Everything in me wants to tear through that door and kill anyone who stands between my mate and me.
Stay focused. We’re almost there.
Dylan reaches the door first and tests the handle. Locked. He looks at me, and I nod. One powerful kick from his boot, and the door crashes inward with a bang.
The room beyond is small and lit by a single, barely working bulb overhead. Two cells occupy most of the space, separated by iron bars that look older than the compound itself. In the left cell is a woman I don’t recognize who struggles to her feet with her wrists still half-bound with fraying rope. She’s thin and bruised, with dark circles under her eyes and a silver collar around her throat that’s left angry red marks on her skin.
