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Finally.
I launch a flare.
Attack choppers sweep the island with mounted machine guns. A double-bladed transport helicopter races toward my signal.
Bish helps Lisa and Dany from the hatch.
I wait.
Everything moves too slow, except the crackle under my skin.
Before the chopper lands on the plaza, four alphas hit the ground. Their boots thud, as heavy as their dominance signatures.
Wyvern House is more than a mercenary group.
The heirs take no shit, obey no rules, and get the job done—by any means they want.
Exactly my fucking mood.
We trained at Wyvern Academy, but even though we ran missions with their pack, we are not friends.
These are the alphas who flame-tempered us for four years, kicking our pack’s collective ass until we could dodge Finn Wyvern’s throwing knives in the dark.
Now, Finn winks at me across the plaza.
Atlas and Hunter Wyvern approach me together. They’re forged from the same massive mold as Dutch but dipped in iron instead of a candy shell. I can’t read which is their reigning packleader when either has the chops to bark down a charging grizzly.
Jett hovers behind them, silent and icy as ever, but I’ll volunteer to hold his pliers in the interrogation chamber.
If we make this alliance, we’re all-in.
Anything it takes to bring my tomcat home.
I meet them halfway, fighting dominance with dominance. “Our mate was taken. Headed due north, about twenty-five minutes ago. Track them on satellite and pull strings to find their destination. I need my family lifted to safety and a medic to treat my guys. I’ll sign whatever deal you want when we’re in the air.”
Setting my jaw, I clench for push-back.
Instead, the Wyverns’ red-headed demon chuckles. “Daddy? Is Jinger Spice our new leader?”
“Finn!” A pocket-sized female omega leans out from the chopper. “Stop screwing around and help, or you’ll miss the high-speed chase. We have to go after Sol!”
Green eyes lighting with evil glee, Finn dashes past me. “Dibs on Dutch Baby.”
I whirl to stop him from scaring the girls, but Atlas is already tailing his ass. Hunter thumps my shoulder. “Hop in. Questions can wait.”
“Thank you.” I grip my burning chest.
“Thank our mate.” He brushes me off. “Turns out, your Marisol is Lilah’s missing Sol. We’re practically pack-in-laws.”
Gratitude churns against the current of my possessive rage, but I grit down and get to business. We can’t waste time.
With the Wyverns’ help, Dutch and Reese are hauled into the chopper. A medic lays them out and relays their vitals to Bish.
Meanwhile, Lilah Wyvern helps Dany and Lisa into bucket seats, offering them headsets and gentle words.
I move toward her.
Five glares stab as soon as I take a step. I was expecting it from the alphas, but not from Orion.
