Page 223 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“Move.”

“He’s doing something to the bond!”

Sava’s face went tight. That was answer enough.

“Sava.”

“Your family first.”

“Ian first.”

“If you stop now, he dies for nothing.”

The words slapped me harder than any hand could have. For one second, the courtyard tilted.

There it was. The thing he had hidden in the room. The thing Sava had seen. The thing in his calm voice when he said he would follow.

He was not planning to follow. He was planning to buy us distance with his body and call it love because nobody had taught that man love didn’t require him to bleed out quietly in the hallway.

“Sava,” I cried, and my voice broke.

Her grip tightened on my arm. “Then make him wrong by living long enough to go back.”

I hated her for that. I loved her for it too.

We reached my family.

My father surged toward me despite the zip ties. “Cassie.”

“Dad, stop.”

“Jesus Christ, what did they do to you?”

“Not the time.”

“What are those things?”

“Again, really not the time.”

Tessa grabbed me and nearly knocked me over. Pain flashed white down my side. I sucked air through my teeth.

She jerked back at once, sobbing. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Cassie, what happened? Where have you been? Why are there wolves?”

“All excellent questions for later.”

Grant stared up at me from the wet stone. His face was gray. “Cassie.”

I looked at him. For once in his life, he had nothing charming prepared.

Good.

I didn’t have time to enjoy it.

My mother reached for me, crying too hard to form words.

A Thorne wolf hit the fountain behind her. Water sprayed over all of us. Henry lunged, barking directly into the wolf’s face, which was brave, stupid, and very Henry.

“Untie the dog,” I snapped.