Total pages in book: 202
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
I’ve looked at the footage and the other shifter that was here doesn’t resemble Stacy. He’s a fair-haired, strong-looking beta. Tall. Lean. Younger than me by a few years. And he ran scared.
I suspect that the dual alpha mating scents in the air along with the smell of the blood of his packmate will have sent him running far. Not that we’ll take chances. We’ll be vigilant.
She’s asleep when I come in, but she rouses when I climb into bed with her.
She turns into me and her eyes open. Panic spikes in her expression, also in my chest.
“Hey,” I say softly, sifting my fingers through her soft hair. “Just me.”
She blinks a couple times and her expression gentles, but she’s got questions in her eyes.
“Rough night,” I tell her. “Need to talk to you.”
Her chin trembles like she’s about to cry. “Wyatt,” she guesses.
“He was either here or sent some men in. Need to show you some pictures. Video. Get you to identify some people. Yeah?”
She rubs her eyes while shuffling to a sitting position. I turn the lamp on and our eyes meet.
“Someone died tonight, Blossom. Pretty certain they’re not just from your old pack, also from your family.”
She goes rod-straight and her lips part in shock.
I reposition us so our backs are against the pillows. One arm around her, I slide the thumb of my free hand up my phone screen and show her the still shot of the two guys at the four corners taken from our surveillance video. I add my index finger to my thumb and spread them to zoom in on the faces.
“Jimmy and Malachi,” she whispers. Her eyes hit mine and she whispers, “Who died?”
“Him,” I point.
She flinches. “Jimmy? Jimmy’s dead?”
“I’m so sorry, babe.” I squeeze her shoulder and press a kiss to her temple before asking, “Jimmy’s your cousin, right?”
“He’s dead?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?” she asks.
“He took Riley’s mate. Hit one of our pack’s females who tried to stop him. Riley went ballistic when he got to Erica. Found her bound and upset and he lost it. Took out the shifter responsible.”
She blinks a few times and asks, “Is… she okay?”
“She’s okay.”
“Jimmy didn’t hurt her?”
“No.”
“And Jimmy’s definitely dead?”
“Definitely dead, babe.”
“She’s… a witch?”
“Yeah, Blossom.”
“That’s why he took her.”
“Erica said Jimmy told Rye he’d exchange her for the female we took. In other words, you.”
She shakes her head. “They wouldn’t have given her back for me. No way. What about Malachi? Is he–”
I get a strange sensation from her and she gulps.
“He got away,” I tell her. “We’ve got people lookin’, but he might be too far. They both masked their scents, but Linc caught a whiff. He’s got the strongest nose in the pack. Either it was wearin’ off or it wasn’t as effective as whatever you had on the other day. You think he’s close? Think he’ll strike out?”
She swallows and closes her eyes, blowing out a long breath. “I’m surprised Wyatt sent Malachi here, especially with Jimmy. They didn’t get along.”
“I’m sorry about Jimmy, babe. I know he was family.”
I can’t read her. She stares into space for a minute before whispering, “Wyatt’s gonna retaliate.”
“Suspected as much.”
“Jimmy’s his right-hand beta. He’ll be livid.”
“Malachi his left?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I didn’t think so, but… the fact that he was here? Maybe something changed since I was there. Maybe Mal came because I was missing. I don’t…” she trails off and looks lost in thought.
I’m picking up on something strange. “Tell me more about this Malachi.”
She doesn’t answer.
“Stace?”
She shakes it off. “He… we grew up together. He’s one of the few decent betas left. Or, I thought he was. I don’t know if that’s changed. I’m…”
She leaves that hanging. I’m sure she’s in shock about her cousin but I can tell there are things she’s not saying. I wait.
“Can I… go get some water?” she finally asks.
“I’ll get it.” I kiss her temple and get out of bed.
When I’m back, she’s cradling her elbows, staring off into space.
I pass her the glass of water. She drinks half of it and gives it back to me, looking haunted.
I’m about to ask questions, prod to find out what she’s not saying, but she speaks up, voice sounding haunted, “If I were male, I’d be dead right now, too.”
My lips part, but words don’t come. Because she might be right. If we’d found a male shifter in the woods that day, he might have died. Chances are, we’d have done questioning, but chances are even higher that the male would have fought capture.
Alphas and most betas would likely have fought to the death against another shifter in a situation like that, where one was sent in to assassinate an alpha. Betas can get pretty worked up and failure to show an alpha that’s not their alpha the right body language to save themselves would’ve made things dicey.