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“I can’t just sit on the sidelines and do nothing while Helia is probably being tortured,” I argue, needing a job to do.
“I could use another set of eyes,” Graham tells me. “There’ll be a lot of footage to sort through and while I have my own people to help me, there’s always space for more.”
Chances are that Graham’s software will be the first to find her, my wolf says. He doesn’t need to continue for me to be able to understand what he’s hinting at.
“Okay,” I agree, glancing at Graham before turning back to Gavin. “I’ll hold you to your promise.”
Gavin gives me a small smile and winks. He turns around to Leia, Garren, and Alyssa. “We have work to do.”
“This is madness!” my father growls before anyone can leave the room. “Are you seriously going to put your lives on the line for a witch?”
Blinding anger makes my muscles tense in preparation to strike him for insulting my mate. Before I can make a step that would sink me knee-deep in shit, Garren lets out a deafening growl. It’s one of pure power, letting his subjects know who the real alpha is. The true king.
Except for Gavin, who stands tall though his jaw twitches, we all instinctively cower. Some more than others, but the urge to show submission is real and powerful. While I don’t fall on my knees like I used to when my father was king, I do slightly bend my neck to bow my head. It will take a while to realize it was a gesture of respect instead of fear. It’s something that my father never learned to demand. He never truly earned it as his reign was through fear and power.
“You will do well to remember your place,” Garren reminds him. Despite the straightforwardness of his words, he doesn’t make it sound harsh or threatening. He’s simply bringing to light the fact that there’s been a change in the hierarchy. “The orders have been given and the jobs assigned. If you don’t have anything to contribute, then kindly fuck off.”
My father’s eyes widen in shock, but he keeps his mouth closed. His lips are pressed into a thin line. His body only relaxes when my mother takes his hand into hers, wordlessly communicating something to him with that simple gesture.
We’re wasting time, my wolf growls. Helia’s in danger while this prick is having his ego soothed.
I meet Graham’s eyes and nod at the door. “Let’s go.”
It seems that those are the magic words that made everyone spring to action. It’s the first time ever that the royal wolf families will work together to bring an end to the threat of the witches.
CHAPTER 17
Grayden
After four hours of staring at video after video and scrolling through picture after picture, my eyes start to burn, and my head’s beginning to pound.
This isn’t working, I complain to my wolf.
We’ve tried contacting her through the supposed bond, but we have no idea how it even works. Last time, it was Helia who initiated the contact.
Maybe she’s unconscious, my wolf suggests, following my line of thought.
That doesn’t make me feel any better, I reply, my mind conjuring up all the ways with which Hekate could torture her into unconsciousness.
Asleep, my wolf quickly corrects himself. She’s asleep.
Yeah, I mutter, although neither one of us believes it.
A sudden loud beep pierces the sound of never-ending typing. I nearly fall off my chair, catching my balance at the last possible moment and grabbing at the edge of the desk.
“I got something,” one of Graham’s workers announces. It’s quite impressive how many people he has working for him on projects that I’ve never heard of. Well, to be honest, I always thought that all he ever did online was watch porn.
You should stop underestimating your brothers, my wolf warns me as we get up to join Graham and look at what the guy found.
“Talk to me,” Graham orders, his eyes scanning the information on the screen.
“The F-Rec has matched dozens of pictures to the live streaming feeds of the city’s grid,” the guy says to Graham, putting together a bunch of words that make no sense to me. Graham, however, is nodding thoughtfully as the guy continues, “They’re all tied to the same location.”
Graham already has his phone in hand, pulling up a thread to text the packs. “Where?”
“Some industrial area in Brooklyn,” the guy replies, then pauses as he glances at the screen again. “They’re in Bushwick.”
“Tag them on the map,” Graham tells him, sharing the information with the rest.
