Page 66 of Broken

Cole felt his ears pop, as the magic from the bracelet ramped up. Ghost-Riker grabbed his arm. Let it go!

Energy surged inside Cole, moving of its own volition, latching onto his wolf bond. The wolves! Gunn! he shouted mentally, reaching out to his alpha. He felt Gunn clutching the alpha amulet he’d been given by his predecessor, pulling in the power of the pack through the bond they all shared.

The barriers in his mind swept open, and pure magic poured through. From his pack brothers to Gunn to Cole, into Ireland, accepting her as one of them.

The helicopter slowed to a stop. The men inside were frozen too, looks of shock on their faces.

Now what were they going to do? Cole could feel that lowering it to the ground without dropping it was going to take more control than they had left.

But they were going to have to try, before they ran out of strength…

And then Thanatos was there, speeding down through the valley like a freight train, DB behind him. Dragon Boy leaped into the air, Changed, and flew up to the helicopter, grabbing onto it and guiding it to the ground.

Thanatos stopped and flung both arms out, one toward each of the breaches in the wards. The ones by the gate snapped into place, not just patched, but whole and restored.

He shouted three words ringing with magic power, and from his palms came twin bolts of magic.

Cole, sinking to his knees from exhaustion, watched the nearest bolt somehow miss all the Outlaw Ridge defenders, pass through the wards, and strike the ground outside the gate.

The earth opened up like a mouth, swallowing the Fae that hadn’t already started running. Then the ground rippled back to where it had been, trees and grass and roadway, until you couldn’t tell it had ever been disturbed.

From up the hill by the Rec Center, there were shouts and then silence, and then one small, faint, “What the fuck?”

Cole would have laughed, if he hadn’t been so wrung out. The magic had taken every ounce of energy he had.

He tried to stand up, and everything tilted around him. He was hit with another wave of emotion and memory, this one worse than the first.

Stop! But it wouldn’t stop. He felt hot and cold, shamed and small, cruel and arrogant, deadly and evil. The images were coming so fast he couldn’t keep track of them, more and more and worse and worse.

His wolf growled, pushing through his skin. Fur rippled down his arms and across his face, and then receded. He couldn’t Change. He couldn’t run. If he got too far away from Ireland she’d be hurt.

But his wolf was hammering at him. Run! Run!

No!

Gradually, voices penetrated through the maelstrom. Boomer first, with his familiar touch and scent, his arm around Cole’s shoulders. “Bro? You okay? I got your back. I got you.” And turning to someone, “What the fuck is wrong with him? Where’s Thanatos?”

But in his head, there was Riker. I knew you couldn’t handle this. Pussy wolf. Why the hell are you alive and I’m dead? Rye needs me.

Ireland. Where was Ireland?

There. He felt her hand on his shoulder, heard her voice. The memories rose up again, washing over him. The connection between them was wide open, sharing everything he felt with her. Everything he saw in his mind.

She couldn’t see that. Couldn’t know it. NO!

His wolf ripped out of him, and he ran.