I don’t have time to worry what that means, because Cal groans, low and agonised.
“Cal?” I urge, setting him on the ground, Jet rushing to his side. “Cal?”
“M’okay,” he grits out, not opening his eyes. He’s not. That blade’s too fucking close to his heart.
“Can’t save them both,” Birch taunts, and I look up to find him hauling Morgan upright. Blood still trickles from the vicious bite mark at the base of his throat, but its already healing. The smell lingers in the air, though. Birch’s scent now layered over Morgan’s.
I fucking hate it.
Birch’s grip tightens, pulling Morgan against his chest.
“Don’t fucking touch him,” I snarl.
He steps back and the remaining FBs move to cover him.
Jet stands, but Birch snatches another knife from the FB nearest to him and holds it against Morgan’s throat. “Not another fucking step.”
I shake my head when Jet looks my way.
“We can’t just let him go!” He doesn’t take his eyes off Birch.
“You can follow us.” Birch takes another step back. “Try to run us off the road maybe, but Cal will die before the others can get him help, and you know it.” He shrugs. “Who you gonna choose?”
“Lynx?” Morgan’s eyes flutter open.
I watch, fucking helpless, as it all comes back to him. His hand flies to his throat, and the shocked gasp goes through me like a hundred knives. “No,” he whispers, gaze finding mine.
“It’ll be okay.” I mean it with every fibre of my being. I don’t give a fuck what I have to do to make it a reality.
Morgan’s gaze falls on Callum, and I see the moment he realises. “Can you save him?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Do it.”
The roar of engines gets closer by the second. They’ll be here in minutes.
Birch starts to walk backwards, dragging Morgan with him.
I lay Cal on the ground and stand.
Birch digs the knife into Morgan’s neck. “Any closer and I’ll kill him, remember.”
“Pack first,” Morgan says, voice stronger this time, even with Birch’s knife at his throat. “That’s what you told me.” He meets my gaze, the steely resolve taking me by surprise. “Save Callum. Then find me.”
“Morgan.”
He smiles, scared but so fucking brave and my wolf howls inside, desperate to get out and save him no matter what.
But Birch is right. If I go after him now, Cal will die. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Morgan grits his teeth as the poison from Birch’s bite enters his bloodstream. “Find me.”
“Always.”
“Touching, but fucking pointless,” Birch sneers. “You’re never gonna see him again.” Then he turns and runs, taking my heart with him.
Watching them leave is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Every bone in my body aches to run after them, to fight. But Birch wasn’t bluffing, his scent doesn’t lie. He’d kill Morgan rather than let me take him, and I won’t risk that.
