Page 230 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

Cassie

We got them to the cars.

I didn’t remember every step of it. That seemed fair, since my brain had been expected to process far too much already and was now functioning like a browser with thirty-seven tabs open, several of them screaming.

There had been blood on the service corridor floor. Henry barking. My father asking questions too loudly while running, which was apparently his crisis style. My mother crying and still trying to make sure everyone else was accounted for. Tessa half carrying Henry, half being dragged by him. Grant making one useless attempt to take charge before Sava looked at him and said, “If you speak again, I will classify you as a delay.”

He had stopped speaking.

That was the most useful thing he had done all week.

The service road waited behind the laundry wing, slick with rain and gray light. Three dark SUVs idled near the curb with their headlights cutting through the mist. Two of Ronan’s wolves stood guard near the first vehicle, both in human form, both looking very much like men who had been given orders they didn’t like and were bright enough to follow anyway.

Sava shoved keys at my father. “First car. Follow the lead vehicle. No stopping. No turning around. No getting heroic. If anything hits the car, keep driving.”

My father stared at her. “If anything hits the car?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell kind of resort is this?”

“The kind you are leaving.”

My mother climbed into the back seat, shaking so badly Tessa had to help her. Henry tried to leap into the front and was redirected into the second row with the sort of offended bark usually reserved for squirrels and vacuum cleaners.

“Tessa,” I said.

She turned to me. Her hair was soaked, her face streaked with rain and tears, her engagement ring bright and stupid on her hand.

“Go,” I said.

“No.”

“Tessa.”

“Absolutely not!”

“This is not the time for sister bonding.”

Grant appeared behind her, pale and shaking, clutching one of the broken zip ties like it was evidence in a lawsuit he intended to file with God. “We need to leave. Now. This is insane.”

Tessa didn’t look at him. “Get in the car.”

“I am trying to get everyone in the car.”

“No, you’re trying to be in charge because being scared makes you unbearable.”

His mouth opened.

Tessa pointed at the SUV. “Car.”

He got in.

I would have enjoyed that more if my entire body had not been held together by spite, stitches, and whatever cursed magic thought now was a good time to be emotionally complicated.

Sava put her hand at my back. “You too.”

I nodded. I even tried. I got one hand on the open SUV door. I saw the dark interior. Henry’s muddy paws on the seat. My mother’s hands pressed against her mouth. My father behind the wheel, looking over his shoulder at me with fear so open it almost made him unfamiliar.