But they clearly want to keep him alive, so that’s good, right?
I can’t put it off any longer. I ask the question I’m not sure I want the answer to. “Who was it?”
“Feral Beasts,” Beth spits. I don’t need to see her face to feel the venom in it. “Motherfuckers.”
A cold dread creeps up the back of my neck.
“Is this my fault?” I can barely get the words out, horrified that Beth and Mal have been beaten so badly they’re still bleeding, that Mal has a bone sticking out of his arm... All because the Feral Beasts wanted me.
“No.” Flint’s quick to answer, and his tone invites no room for argument. “So stop that shit right now. Even if they ambushed us because they wanted to get you, that’s still on them.”
It takes a moment for me to absorb his words and shove my guilt aside. “You don’t think they did this to get me?”
He sighs, and I wonder if he didn’t tell the whole truth about how much pain he’s in. “If they just wanted you, they could’ve taken you and either left us like this by the side of the road or killed us.”
I flinch as he says that so matter-of-factly.
“But they didn’t do either of those things. They brought us along for the ride.” He nods at Mal. “And made sure no one was in danger of dying yet.”
“What do you think they want?” I’m not sure I want the answer to that either.
Flint brings the lighter back, so it illuminates his face again. “You’re drenched in Lynx’s scent. He might as well have pissed on you, because any shifter in a mile radius knows who you belong to.”
I’m not proud of how much I like that.
“The fact that they’ve taken us too...” He shrugs and my blood runs cold.
“We’re bait?”
“I’d say so.”
His lighter chooses that moment to sputter and die, and I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t want to look at the resignation on Flint’s face, don’t want to acknowledge how shitty our situation is.
Or the trap that Lynx is walking into.
Because I know he’ll come. Maybe not for me, but his club, his pack areeverything.
And the Feral Beasts know it.
Silence fills the van, and as it stretches out, it dawns on me how unnatural it is. I knew we weren’t moving as soon as my head cleared, but I can’t hear anything at all from outside.
“Where are we?”
Flint sighs again. “I don’t know.” He taps the side of the van, or at least I think he does because I felt movement, but I can’t fucking see. “It’s heavily soundproofed. I know we travelled for about an hour but couldn’t tell you in which direction.”
“Have we been parked here long?”
“Long enough.” Beth’s tone softens when she adds, “The Trenton pack were expecting us. They’ll notify Lynx that we haven’t arrived soon, if they haven’t already.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “And he’ll come for us?”
“Yes,” she says with conviction. “If he knows where we are.”
“How will he?—”
The back doors to the van are thrown open, light flooding into the space, making everyone squint. “Out,” someone grunts, then Mal roars in agony as he’s grabbed by the shoulders and pulled from the van.
Both Flint and Beth surge forward but freeze as Birch appears brandishing a wicked-looking knife.
