I anchored myself in his psyche, ripping out his thoughts and diving into the source of his betrayal. He tried to mask his guilt, running through each memory that he wanted to hide in a poor attempt to lock them away. But I heard everything. Every fucking statement he’d made, in every fucking situation.
Makayla is Alaric’s mate. She’s not from here. She has gifts. Unique ones. I overheard them talking about her ring at the lake. She can portal and switch realms.
Kristen’s body. Placed on Alaric’s lawn. Message received.
Makayla’s taking quadrant one. I’ll distract the others.
Alaric’s mentally linked to her. She’s telling him everything. Yeah, you can test it when you grab the E.V.I.E. director.
The sequence ended with the memory of killing Steve.
All the pieces came together in succession, bolstered by his thoughts. Paul was working with Bortex. He’d passed along intimate details regarding Makayla’s origin and then provided her location to be taken. And he’d engaged in a conversation right before we’d left tonight, informing Bortex of my mental connection to Makayla.
This had all been a trap, one Paul had helped orchestrate.
To capture Jude.
That was the reason the men hadn’t started killing yet. They were waiting for permission, and for something else. Some sort of trial. Something involving me.
I rolled my neck, my anger mounting with each passing second.
Makayla breathed into my mind, her pain bolstering my resolve.
Bortex and his men had taken my mate and shot her full of silver. All for some sort of fucked-up experiment, the details of which weren’t located within Paul’s mind. That was fine. I’d find out more my own way.
These bastards were attacking my wolves. They had Savannah. And now they wanted Jude. While the E.V.I.E. director might not be my charge, he was still my boss and friend.
And their worst offense—they’d hurt Makayla.
My wolf snarled inside, taking over my instincts.
Fuck the flashbangs.
Fuck the outnumbering odds.
And fuck Paul.
I took the gun from my holster in one hand and opened the door with the other. These assholes wanted to play? We’d damn well play.
Paul had given away a key secret within his mind—these military jokers were under orders not to kill, which gave me a clear and obvious advantage.
Because I had no problem pulling the trigger.
A few of them shouted when I rolled out of the car, their trajectory of attack shifting to me.
More flashes and loud noises sounded, but I sprinted right into the fray, taking one of the men out with my fucking fist to his throat.
He went down, his helmet rolling off his head.
I grabbed it, securing it over my head, then put a bullet between his eyes.
Humans.
They’re fucking humans.
I sent those messages to my wolves, pissed off all over again. Bortex was using soldier types to attack a bunch of well-trained wolves.
That explained why they were more immune to the flashbangs.
