Page 108 of The Secret Mate Society

"He's keeping him alive," I said, the realization hitting me like a freight train."The rogue wants something from him."

"What could a rogue possibly want from a human?"Trevor asked.

I turned to face him, my wolf clawing at my insides with renewed desperation."Me possibly.He wants to draw me out, make me suffer."I paused, another horrifying thought crystallizing."Or...he wants Ethan for himself."

Ageratum's crimson eyes narrowed."You think the rogue has formed an attachment?"

"It's possible."I started pacing, unable to stand still while Ethan was out there somewhere."He's been following Ethan for years, and killed his father right in front of him.He’s had every chance to kill him, but never has.And he showed zero remorse for the other humans, all those cattle, or that farmer he murdered…”

“But you and Ethan have created a bond,” Ageratum nodded, following my every word.“Wouldn’t that cause an issue?”

“That might be why he’s made his move at last,” I said.“After all these years of torturing Ethan from the shadows, he waited until we bonded to finally snap.That could explain all the killings, and why he’s gotten so vicious.”I clenched my fists, feeling my claws threatening to break through."Jealousy.Rage.The bond between Ethan and me would drive a rival wolf insane, especially if he'd been fixating on Ethan for years."

"So where would he take him?"Trevor pressed, his hand on my shoulder grounding me before I spiraled completely."You know these attacks better than most thanks to Ethan.Where would the rogue hole up?"

I forced myself to think past the panic screaming through every nerve.Rogues were territorial, paranoid.They needed isolation but also familiarity.Somewhere they could control completely.

"Somewhere he's been before," I muttered, closing my eyes and trying to recall every detail from the case files."Every kill site, every location connected to the murders."

Ageratum pulled out his phone, fingers dialing numbers quickly."I can have the police records sent over immediately.Every location tied to the attacks."

"Wait."I opened my eyes, a memory surfacing."The farmer.Marcus Greer.Ethan interviewed him about his cattle before the rogue killed him.All the early mutilations happened there for weeks.Everywhere else has been too public.”

"The farm," Trevor said, catching on."It’s remote, isolated, and the rogue already knows the layout."

"It's not much, but I can’t stand around waiting for another answer.Not when Ethan’s in trouble."I was already moving toward my motorcycle.“You guys see if there’s another possibility.Call me if you find anything.”

Ageratum nodded.“Same to you.”Then he paused.“If you find the rogue, don’t confront him alone.I don’t need a dead werewolf on my hands as well.”

I threw a leg over my motorcycle, the engine roaring into life.“No promises.”

Tires screeched as I peeled out of the parking lot, racing toward the Greer farm on the north side of town.The cold autumn wind whipped against my face as I tore through the streets of Portland, weaving between cars with reckless abandon.Every second counted.Every moment I wasted was another moment Ethan was trapped with that monster.

My wolf was barely contained beneath my skin, demanding I shift and run faster.But I needed the bike.Needed the speed it could provide on the open road once I left the city limits behind.

The buildings blurred past as I accelerated, my enhanced reflexes the only thing keeping me from crashing.Normal humans wouldn't have been able to navigate traffic at these speeds, but I wasn't normal.And right now, I thanked whatever gods were listening for that fact.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it.Nothing mattered except getting to that farm.If I was wrong, if Ethan wasn't there, I'd tear apart every inch of Maine until I found him.The Council, the pack, the entire supernatural world could burn for all I cared.Ethan was my mate, and I would move heaven and earth to bring him home.

The city gave way to suburbs, then farmland.The Greer property was about fifteen miles outside Portland, nestled in rolling hills that would be beautiful if they weren't currently harboring a psychotic rogue werewolf.

I pushed the bike harder, the speedometer climbing well over one hundred.The farm came into view, and my heart lurched.There was a single vehicle parked near the barn—a car I recognized from the newspaper parking lot.Jake's car.

Jake.The coworker who'd been murdered.The one whose letter had driven Ethan away from me.But what was it doing there?

I killed the engine and dismounted, every sense on high alert.The farm was silent except for the whisper of wind through bare trees.Too silent.No birds, no small animals rustling in the underbrush.They'd all fled from the predator in their midst.

I approached the barn cautiously, my boots crunching on gravel that seemed deafening in the stillness.The structure loomed before me, weathered wood silvered with age.One of the main doors hung slightly ajar, and I caught a scent that made my wolf surge forward with recognition.

Ethan.He was here.

And beneath his sweet, earthy scent was something else.Fear.Pain.And the musky, rancid odor of the rogue.

My vision tunneled, gold bleeding into my sight as my wolf demanded release.Not yet, I told myself, even as my bones began to ache with the need to shift.I had to assess the situation first, and couldn't just charge in blindly.

I crept closer to the door, peering through the gap.The interior was dim, illuminated only by the orange glow of what looked like a space heater.And there, tied to a support beam in the center of the barn, was Ethan.

My heart stopped.He was naked, shivering, his wrists bound painfully behind him.But he was alive.Breathing.And standing in front of him, with a hand wrapped around his throat was…