“What was the plan!” Liam screamed in an unhinged roar in his face.
The man flinched and grew very still, exposing the side of his neck to Liam. “Eden wanted Traydon to keep him alive long enough to bring back the Turner.”
“And then?” Liam demanded.
“And then Eden was going to kill him in front of the Turner, and sever their Mating Bond to break her. She wanted the Turner to suffer for her betrayals before she dies.”
Shock and disgust warred within Lyric. Her. They were talking about her. Vic’s intended murder was for her.
She wanted to kill Eden.
If Vic died, shewouldkill her.
Lyric couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t see straight. Anger and worry filled every cell in her body. Destiny had slid to her knees in the mud beside her, and was holding the t-shirt to Vic’s bleeding face, but there were more bullet wounds in his body. Werewolf healing was powerful, but it wasn’t guaranteed. Not with these kinds of injuries.
She didn’t see exit wounds when she rolled him over, which meant the bullets were probably still inside of him. It was bad. Lyric knew it was really bad. She could feel their Mating Bond growing weaker by the moment.
Grunting, she dragged Vic’s body upward and strode with heavy steps for the tree line. She was cut, clawed, and bitten, and her hands were on fire, but none of that mattered.
Only Vic mattered. She needed to get him to first aid and out of the mud.
The sound of a truck echoed through the trees, and a big black Chevy picked it’s way through the trees. The window rolled down, and she could see it was Bridger.
Dodger rushed to them and took Vic’s wolf from her arms and bolted for the truck, leaving Destiny and Lyric to stumble after him as fast as they could.
The second Vic was settled in the back seat of that truck, his head cradled in Lyric’s lap, Bridger was pulling a U-turn and picking his way through the crowded forest once again. He leveled some trees that were smaller with the heavy bullnose of his truck to get through. She could see why Traydon and the others parked below. These woods weren’t meant for off-roading. This place would be haunted. This place had been intended to torture Vic, and regroup, and plan next steps on how to make Lyric suffer.
When Bridger reached the main road, he hit the gas and didn’t look back. Lyric was numb with the shock of what was happening. Destiny was trying to get the bleeding stopped on Vic’s ribs, and Lyric worked on the head wound. Dodger and Bridger were talking but she couldn’t understand any of their words. Not over the humming of her and Vic’s bond that was pounding through her chest and head. It was growing weaker, and that terrified her more than anything ever had.
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Please.” She lowered closer to him and murmured against his ear. “I love you. Please stay with me.”
Chapter Ten
one month later…
I love you. Please stay with me.
Vic was lost in his mind, barely able to comprehend anything that was happening, but he had understood those words from Pretty Lyric.
I love you.
It played over and over again, like lyrics to a song.
Those words had been said to him before, but never had they held a note of such truth, like they had in Lyric’s voice.
Vic lowered his head and sniffed at the trail through the grass. His head hurt, but it always hurt now. The pain behind his eye was just a part of him now. The wind shifted and he caught a scent of something familiar. Something that made his heart pound a little harder.
It was her. Lyric.
He kicked up into a trot, aiming for the clearing with the houses. These woods were home now, but he still got to keep her—Lyric. She had stayed. She visited him every day.
He locked his legs at the tree line and was caught up in her again. She wore her hair down today. It hung down in loose waves, and her eyes were already glowing. At least, one of them was. She was ready for a Change. He could tell from her scent, and from the excitement that hummed from her.
She looked the way she always looked when she saw him—happy and then sad.
He padded up to her and rested his forehead against her stomach. Her breath hitched, and this is the part he never understood. She was happy, but sometimes she cried when he touched her.
It confused him. If he was the man, perhaps he would understand, but the wolf and the man were different. As the wolf, he hunted, he chased, he marked territory, he fought, and he stayed with his mate as much as he could. His instincts were basic. His logic was unerring. His emotions though? Well, the wolf didn’t have much use for those.
