Page 217 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

The humans stared.

Rain fell.

No one laughed.

Grant made a strangled sound. “That’s insane.”

Henry barked again, high and frantic, because dogs always knew monsters before people admitted them.

Silas’s smile widened. “Yes. It usually sounds that way before the screaming starts.”

Ronan took one step down. “You break secrecy here, and every neutral pack turns on you.”

“I have broken nothing yet.” Silas lifted one hand, palm out. “All they have is words from a man under duress at a very dramatic wedding. Unless, of course, someone loses control.”

His eyes went to me. There it was.

The invitation.

The trap.

The door he wanted me to walk through teeth first.

I looked at the Thorne wolves around the hostages. Counted them. Eleven visible. More beyond the hedges. Two on the balcony above the ballroom. One near the service arch. Rain blurred scents, but it didn’t hide heartbeats.

Ronan had eight in the courtyard, six more in the hall behind us, and Cormac already drifting right, toward the service arch.

Sava had one hand near Cassie’s back. I met her eyes over Cassie’s shoulder.

She understood.

Cassie was still staring at me.

“Ian,” she said quietly.

I stepped closer to her.

Silas watched. Everyone watched.

I lowered my voice until only she and Sava could hear. “Remember the plan.”

Her eyes flashed. “No.”

“Stay close to Sava.”

“No.”

“When it breaks, take them and run.”

“Ian.”

“Do not look back.”

Her face changed. Fear rose through her anger, sharp and immediate. She reached for me but I stepped away before she could touch me.

If she touched me, I might fail.

The hurt in her eyes nearly ended me anyway.