His clothes are ripped to shreds, claw and bites marks all over him. If I had any doubts before who’d done this, I don’t anymore.
I want to kill them all.
“Did they turn him?”
Ice-cold dread hits me full force at the thought of Morgan becomingtheirs. I inhale, deep enough to draw Morgan’s scent into my lungs, then shake my head in relief. “No.”
Thank fuck.
The bites are deep, but I can’t sense his body changing.
“Good,” Jet says. “At least we don’t have that to worry about.”
My resolve wavers and I take a step towards him, but Jet grabs my arm. “We need to go,” he hisses, eyes darting around us. “They could still be out there.” He gestures to Morgan. “He’s going to be missed come morning. We can’t leave any trace that we were here.”
We can’tleavehim.It’s what I want to say, but I can’t do that either. I have my pack, my club to think about. Neither can afford the attention of hunters or police. “He’s still alive.”
Jet grimaces. “Not for long.”
As much as it hurts to admit it, he’s right. There’s too much blood, and some of those wounds are deep. If we leave him out here, I doubt he’ll last the night.
It would solve more than one problem.
I feel sick to my bones for even thinking it, but I can’t afford to be selfish right now. Too many lives depend on me making the right decision. I can’t jeopardise their safety for something that can never happen anyway.
Even if it means losing him.
So I do what any good alpha should. I push my own feelings down deep and concentrate solely on what’s best for my pack. I sound cold, detached, when I finally speak,“He’s on our doorstep, Jet. When they find him, that shit’s going to come our way.”
He points to the bike parked a few feet away and the torn sleeping bag on the floor beside it. “It’s not like anyone dragged him here. We have twenty witnesses that say we were at the compound all night.”
I send him a pointed look. “Which might convince the authorities.” Although I doubt it’ll be that easy. “But the hunters’ll take one look at his injuries and come straight for us.”
“Nothing ties us to him.”
“Apart from the fact he came by the compound yesterday to try and join our club.”
“Bollocks.” Jet rubs a hand over his hair, the short black strands poking up through his fingers. “I can finish him off. Take him further into the woods and bury him. His bike is easy enough to get rid of.”
It’s what we should do.
“With any luck, it’ll take them a few years to find his body, if at all, and by that time it should’ve decomposed enough to destroy any evidence that this was done by one of us.”
Fucking Feral Beasts.
I make the mistake of glancing at Morgan again.
He moans softly and I’m hit with a barrage of memories I’ve tried so fucking hard to suppress. He grimaces, pain etched in every one of his features, and my control wavers. Something akin to electricity hums through my veins, all the way out to the tips of my fingers. An awareness that makes my wolf stir.
No.
I lock everything down and turn to Jet, my voice cold, business like. “Do it.”
Goddess forgive me.
He hesitates for a beat, as though expecting me to change my mind, but this is the right thing to do for our pack. Our club.
The only thing.
