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“Dez,” I say, voice turning firmer. “What happened?”
Again, silence.
“Tom,” Michael barks out. “Keep an eye on the girl. Ronan, with us.”
Gritting my teeth, I bite back hateful words to him. Instead, I press a kiss to Destiny’s head before rising to my feet. I’m not eager to deal with bodies, but I have to make sure Raegan isn’t one of them.
Maybe Logan is.
Now that’s just wishful thinking.
I follow Jace and Michael through the trees until we arrive at our destination. There are two bodies covered with blankets. Based on the swells of their breasts under the fabric, they’re female. My stomach seizes painfully.
Please don’t be her.
Please.
“We’re not burying them, but we’re moving them away from camp. Their corpses will begin to stink and we can’t afford to draw in predators.” Michael tugs off the blanket from the first body. “She was too young to die.”
I step closer and hold in my sigh of relief. It’s Mya. I’d heard Owen mourning over her last night, but now I can confirm it with my own two blurry eyes. She was such an evil bitch. I don’t feel sorry about her death.
But, if she died, did Raegan die fighting her?
Another wave of nausea has me breaking out in a sweat. My mouth waters like I’m going to puke at any second.
Michael watches me with interest before turning his back to me. Then he yanks off the other blanket. The woman is drenched in blood. The coppery scent permeates the air, making me gag. For a split second, I see Raegan’s face.
But it’s not her.
It’s Stacey.
Did Raegan kill her too?
“The baby wasn’t coming out,” Michael explains in an emotionless voice. “We had to do a cesarean.”
It’s then I notice the tiny, naked form lying unmoving on the carnage that was her stomach. The baby. Blue and lifeless.
Jace loses it first. He starts gagging and puking. Michael remains still, watching me and waiting for my response.
“D-Did you kill the baby?” I choke out, horror dripping from my words.
Michael scoffs. “The baby didn’t survive the surgery. It got nicked by my hunting knife.”
It got nicked.
I close my eyes, squeezing them tight so tears won’t form.
Clearly entertained by my reaction, Michael says, “Grab it. I’ll grab my wife. Jace can deal with his cousin.”
He wants me to take the baby.
Fuck.
With a whine in my throat, I shake my head. “Please don’t make me.”
Michael storms over to me and snarls in my face. “Deal with it or I’ll add your pretty little sister to the pile. Your people have fucked with me enough. Do not test me.”
Shuddering at his threat, I turn away from him and make my way over to Stacey and the baby. Carefully, I pick up the cold baby and cradle it to my chest. Tears freely fall as I stare at the deceased child. A small incision no wider than an inch covers his upper chest where his heart is. Michael didn’t nick him, he stabbed him.
