They were almost at the car when Darien’s phone buzzed.
He dug it out of the pocket of his pants that were now stained with blood, swiped to answer, and lifted it to his ear. “Cassel.” The car chirped as he unlocked the doors.
The look that crossed Darien’s face had Loren and Dallas stopping on the sidewalk. Loren tried with all her might to hear what the person on the other end was saying, but she could barely make out words.
Though she could’ve sworn the male voice saidSabrine.
Loren locked eyes with Dallas just as Darien snapped, “Youwhat?”
30
It seemed to take a million years to reach the Silverwood District.
The entirety of Werewolf Territory was a mixture of houses of varying incomes; there was no obvious separation between the wealthy and the poor, as was the case in other parts of Angelthene. Families sat on their front lawns in folding chairs around bonfires, their heads turning as they watched the car flit by like a bat.
Loren couldn’t sit still. Darien had warned her not to get her hopes up over what Logan Sands had said on the other end of that call. But Loren was bouncing in place as they drove through the neighbourhoods at a speed that felt painfully slow.
The werewolf had told Darien that he’d found Sabrine.Alive. She only prayed Logan’s definition of alive meant hanging on with more than an inch of her life.
The car slowed to a crawl. “This looks like the right house,” Darien muttered as he turned onto a gravel driveway. A small house framed by towering palm trees sat at the end of it, the windows aglow with the lights that were on inside.
Darien cut the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and sat back, stretching out his legs.
The curtain hanging over the fogged-glass panel on the kitchen door parted to the side as someone peered through it. A moment later, that person stepped out onto the porch.
A man Loren assumed was Logan Sands jogged down the porch steps and across the driveway, gravel crunching beneath his running shoes. His dark, shoulder-length hair swayed with every step.
Darien opened the door and stepped out. “Let me get a few words in first,” he told Loren and Dallas. Too eager to wait, they opened their doors and followed him out.
At the sight of Loren and Dallas, Logan froze, his knuckles turning white as his hands curled into fists. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing company.”
“You didn’t ask,” Darien said, hand hovering near his belt buckle—near the pistol Loren had watched him load with silver bullets before heading here. “These are Sabrine’s closest friends. I wasn’t about to deny them the right to see her.”
Logan’s square jaw was clenched. “She isn’t well.”
Dallas barked, “Like hell she isn’t!” She made to move past Darien, but he held out an arm to stop her. She froze in place, but snarled at Logan, “Where is she?What did you do?”
“Cool it, matchstick,” Logan retorted. “I only saved herlife.”
Dallas bared her teeth. “Did you seriously just insult me by my hair color, you four-leggedfreak?”
Darien stepped between them. “Let’s not start a brawl, shall we?” he advised. To Logan he said, “Where’s Sabrine?”
“In the house.”
Loren’s knees weakened. “Can we see her?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.“Please.We’ve been so worried about her.”
Logan swallowed, though his eyes softened under Loren’s pleading gaze. “It isn’t safe.”
Dallas’s mouth popped open, but Darien spoke before she could get a word out. “What do you mean, Logan?”
“Is she hurt?” Loren cut in.
The werewolf looked at Loren. “She was. But she’s okay now.”
Dallas barked, “Then why can’t we see her?”
Just then, the front door of the house cracked open. A moment passed before that door fully opened, and a lithe figure filled the frame. Loren’s heartbeat stumbled at the sight of the angled planes of the girl’s honey-brown face, softened beneath the glow of lamplight.
