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But no one comes for me.
Not to check if I’m hurt.
Not to check if I’m alive.
As the seconds tick and the heat drills deeper into my body, pain bites past my muscles until it’s gnawing on my bones like a snarling rat that I can’t stomp.
Need destroys my last logic.
Willpower? What willpower?
I need my alphas and my omega. They’re just upstairs.
I can’t hide forever. I can’t run away never knowing if maybe, just maaaaaaybe they could’ve accepted me, held me, even…
I can’t let myself think farther than that.
I need to see them.
I need to stop hiding for once in my life.
Clawing to my feet, burning so hot my scent puffs out in a cloud of steam, I climb toward them.
***
Thirty-Eight
ATLAS
“Fly faster,” I snarl through my headset at Hunter. The chopper’s engine cranks like we’re hauling an elephant, but it’s not as loud as the growl tearing up my throat.
“It won’t go any faster!” Hunter hammers the throttle.
Trees blur underneath us. The engine whines.
It’s not fucking fast enough.
“Backup team’s dead,” Jett reports. “No more reinforcements in range.”
“How the fuck did this happen!” I dig my hands into my thighs like they’re claws. Like I’m going to rip every fucking Redfang in the country into pieces.
Because I am. Slowly.
But icy fear keeps my rage from bleeding.
Orion’s been taken.
Lilah’s been taken.
Everything I have, taken.
“The fuck,” Finn mumbles into the headset we jammed on his asshole skull. Waking up from his bender, he reeks of booze and bad fucking decisions. “We skydiving?”
“You’re about to get booted without a parachute,” Hunter snarls, knuckles white around the controls.
“What happened?” Finn rubs his head. He’s lucky we’re belted in, because my fingers twitch, begging me to choke him out for taking us away from home.
I should’ve insisted one of us stayed.
