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A gruff hum sounded. “I’m not sure I believe you. What I’ll promise you is this: If you trade yourself for the females I have here, I won’t kill you. I’ll instead offer your mate the option of exchanging Tommaso for you. If Tommaso is alive, you’ll get to go free. If he isn’t, you die as planned.” With that, the line went dead.
The terror that had earlier gripped her throat squeezed, and she grabbed onto Isaiah’s arm as if to anchor herself. “The Vercetti Pack has Raya and Lori.”
Isaiah pulled her into his arms, calling out, “Tate, we got a situation here!”
She sank against him, trying to get a handle on her breathing—it had turned quick and shallow. Her cat was no better. The animal was freaking the fuck out.
He rocked Quinley from side to side, palming her nape. “I got you.”
“What is it?” asked Tate, striding into the kitchen with Luke, Camden, and Deke.
It was Isaiah who explained, “Someone from the Vercetti Pack just called Quinley.”
Tate’s jaw dropped. “The fuck? How?”
Quinley licked her lips. “They used my sister’s phone—that’s why I answered; I thought it was her. The pack has both Raya and her mate.”
“Bastards,” Luke spat.
“Call Havana and Blair,” Tate barked to his brother. “They need to hear this.”
Anger stomping through his blood, Isaiah pressed a kiss to his mate’s hair. A dozen curses hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. She was expectedly shaken, and she needed him to be calm; needed to feel steadied. If he released his own anger, it would only feed her distress.
His cat—anxious to both soothe their mate and hunt down those who’d dare upset her—pushed against Isaiah’s skin to be closer to her. The fuckers would pay for this.
He guided her over to a stool and gently propped her butt on it. “Just sit here, Quin.” He poured her a glass of water and pushed it into her tremoring hand. So she wouldn’t spill her drink, he curved his palm around her hand and helped guide the glass to her mouth.
She tip a sip, visibly striving to pull herself together. “I heard her scream,” she said. “He did something, and Raya screamed. It was my fault. I called his bluff, so he hurt her.”
Frowning, Isaiah set her glass on the breakfast bar and palmed the sides of her head. “Hey, it was not your fault. If he hurt her, it’s because he’s an evil fuck—that’s it.”
Her lips trembled, plucking at his heart. He held her tight again, rubbing his hand up and down her back.
Havana and Blair arrived quickly, accompanied by both Aspen and Bailey.
“What happened?” demanded Havana, her face a mask of unease. “What’s going on?”
“Quinley just received a call from a member of the Vercetti Pack,” Tate told her.
“What?” Bailey burst out.
“They have Raya and Lori,” Isaiah added.
Blair gaped. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Quinley murmured. “I heard my sister’s voice. It was definitely her.”
Camden’s jaw hardened. “Kidnapping people is nothing new for the pack.” His gaze settled on Isaiah. “They want you in exchange?”
“No,” said Quinley. “Me. They want to kill me to punish Isaiah for Samuele’s death.”
Not fucking happening.
Curses rang throughout the room.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.” Her brow creased. “It’s weird that he’d be adamant about that, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” asked Isaiah, brushing a hand over her hair.
