He blanches, and I can almost smell the fear clinging to him. He opens his mouth like he’s going to refuse, but he swallows hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
“I know what she went through was hard, but every scream had a larger purpose.”
I picture it clearly. Him standing over her with an electric rod, cornering her in a room, and prodding her. Holding her down and injecting her with drugs that slow down her healing abilities, drawing her blood, and trying to use it to make someone else stronger. Weakening her. Holding her captive.
I snap.
I’m seeing red as I propel myself forward, knocking him back onto the ground. Declan tried to grab me while I was in the air, but he missed. And once I’m on him, there’s no pulling me back. My fists crash into his face again and again until nothing but bloody pulp is left on the ground. Even then, I keep punching.
When I finally stop, breathless and covered in another man’s blood, I hear Declan clear his throat behind me. Neither he nor Kyran is angry with me or disturbed by what they’ve seen. Either of them would have done the same thing for their mate.
“If what he’s saying is true, this isn’t the end,” Declan says with a confidence in his voice that has inspired all of us to act time and time again. “They’ll be coming for her, and they’ll be coming for more of us. We need to be proactive. We have to take the fight to them.”
Chapter 11
Addison
They’ve been gonefor too long. I stare at the clock, watching as the seconds tick by. Hundreds of seconds when I don’t see Zeke, and I don’t know what’s happening.
“These things take time,” Nora says with a reassuring smile. I look at her, and I see that it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. She’s worried too.
She holds a hand over her belly and rubs it absentmindedly, like it’s something to soothe her own nerves.
Tara stands at the stove pulling a whistling kettle off and pouring some steaming hot water into mugs. What if he’s hurt, and that’s why this is taking so long? What if this got Zeke killed? What ifIgot him killed?
The thought makes me want to double over in pain. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he were put in danger because of me. If I have to go back to spare him and everyone else in this pack, I will. I just don’t want him to get hurt.
Please, don’t let him be hurt.
“Here’s some chamomile tea for everyone,” Tara says as she carries a small tray filled with cups to the table. “And yes, Nora, there’s no caffeine in this.”
Nora gratefully grabs a teacup and picks up the bag inside, dipping it in and out of the water. I’ve never had this before, so I just watch her curiously as the liquid turns a darker brown the more she dunks the bag.
Tara takes my cup and does it for me, then slowly hands it to me when it’s ready. Her fingers brush against mine, and I suddenly feel like I’m being pulled away.
I don’t see Tara and Nora in front of me anymore. I’m not in Tara’s kitchen with the tea she made me in my hands.
I’m in a smaller kitchen, a cabin with bright wooden walls. The appliances are older and well-used, and a woman stands in front of the stove. She’s short with pin-straight brown hair and pale skin.
When she turns around and smiles at me, I almost think I’m seeing myself for a second. But then she kneels in front of me and hands me a cup of tea, and I see the lines around her eyes and mouth. She’s older, but she has my face.
“A secret they don’t tell you about chamomile tea is that it keeps the nightmares away,” the woman whispers, her voice filled with warmth that reaches my soul. I hold the mug in my hands, feeling the heat spread through my palms all the way up my arm.
“Aubrielle! Have you seen my good boots?” A man’s voice echoes behind us. The woman, Aubrielle, rolls her eyes and stands, gently squeezing my knee.
The man walks into the kitchen and looks between both of us, his face calm and placid. He’s tall with broad shoulders and natural muscles. He has dark hair cut close to the scalp and blue-gray eyes that I feel immediately comfortable looking into.
“I don’t know, have you checked the shoe rack?” Aubrielle teases.
“Gee, I never would have thought to look there.” He shakes his head and looks at me with an amused smile and an eyebrow raised. “Yes, I looked there.”
Both of them walk out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my tea to go look for the boots. The memory fades away, and I’m back in the kitchen with Tara and Nora, both of them looking at me with concern in their eyes.
“Addison, what is it?” Tara asks, kneeling on the ground in front of me, just like the woman in my memory.
With every fiber of my being, I know that was a memory of my parents. My mother, Aubrielle, and my father.
“I just remembered something. My parents,” I say, setting the tea down on the table with shaking hands.
