Taken by Storm: A Raised by Wolves Novel (22 page)

One person.

Me.

Love you,
he said. It sounded simple when he said it. It always sounded so goddamn simple.

Shay’s fingernails grew into claws.

He thrust them through Chase’s rib cage.

I love you, I love you, I love you,
I told him, over and over and over.
Forever.

I couldn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t look away. But I did what Chase had asked me to. I stayed put, and I watched, and Shay Macalister ripped out his heart.

An eye for an eye.

A wolf for a wolf.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

T
IME SLOWED FOR ME.
M
AYBE IT STOPPED. THE WORLD
just faded away. Nothing mattered. Nothing was real. Shapes blurred together. The smells, the taste of the summer air on my tongue—gone.

All gone.

The only sound I could hear was a strange and gut-wrenching
keening: a strangled sob, a whimper, a scream.

It took me a few minutes to realize it was me.

Shay just stood there, smiling, like for the first time in a long time, all was right in the world. Like my pain was his bliss.

Chase. Chase. Chase.

I thought his name, over and over again, but I didn’t feel
it, didn’t feel him. The bond we’d shared, the connection, his thoughts, his feelings—

There was nothing left. Nothing of him, and nothing
of me.

I should have done more. I should have fought for him.
I should have
died
for him. I would have. I wanted to.

There were never any answers. If I’d been faster, stronger—if I’d been smarter, if I’d been
more
, he would still be here: warm against my side, calm in my mind, loving me the way I loved him. Loving me better.

But he was gone.

My ears roared. I pulled away from Lake’s grasp. She let me go, and I struggled to stand straight.

It didn’t matter that the rest of the pack was there, in my head. I was alone, would always be alone now. I had to fight the urge to wrap my arms around my midsection, like I was the one who had been gutted, like everything inside of me was in danger of spilling out.

If death was numbness, I’d died when Chase had—but by some cruel twist of fate, I was still here. I was here, and he was gone, and that wasn’t the kind of thing I could fix.

“
Now
we’re even,” Shay said.

I was empty inside. Hollowed out. Dead. But something about Shay’s words cut through the shock and the horror and the pain and brought another emotion to the surface.

Rage.

It sparked. Caught fire. Spread through my body, through my blood. There was no red haze, no instinct, no Resilience. There was only me and a certainty that Shay had started something that I would end.

If he wanted to play, I would play—and the name on his lips when he took his last breath?

It was going to be mine.

“We’ll be going now,” Shay said. “My wolves and I.”

I knew he didn’t just mean the legion surrounding us in the woods. He also meant the baby, the pup, the little girl, who he would never see as a person so much as a prize.

She was awake now—so fragile, so small. Maddy cradled her body against her chest. Through the bond, I could feel a need rise up inside of Maddy, one that put my own desire to
protect
those I loved to shame.

Maddy wouldn’t just die for her daughter. She’d deliver herself to hell to save her even a single second of pain. She’d do horrible things, and wonderful things, and everything in between—and she wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.

“I take it you’ll be coming, too?” Shay asked Maddy, pretending politeness, as if the girl who’d just given birth wasn’t covered in dirt, bloody, heartbroken, and nearly feral.

“You’ll understand, of course, if I require you to switch packs before traveling with us.” Shay leaned forward and blew out a light wisp of air into the baby’s nose before turning his attention back to Maddy. “Since Bryn would likely take my head on a platter, I can’t risk having a Cedar Ridge wolf running amok among our ranks.”

He thought he’d played this—played us—so perfectly. He
thought he’d won, but it was obvious then that Shay Macalister
had no idea what I was capable of, or how long I was willing to wait.

I was human now, but I wouldn’t always be. The odds were on his side, but someday, somehow, that would change.

Bryn.
Maddy’s voice was quiet in my mind. I didn’t make her ask me for anything. I didn’t react to the unspoken request or Shay’s machinations in any visible way.

All I did was let Maddy go.

I pulled my mind from hers, unable to do anything else.

There were rules—rules about who we could kill and how and why. Rules about a human life not measuring up to the life of a werewolf. Rules about retribution and inter-pack relations, Senate meetings and territory.

The rules said the baby was a member of the Snake Bend Pack.

The rules said her alpha mattered more than her mother.

We all knew that Shay wasn’t bluffing. He would take the baby, knowing that if Maddy didn’t follow, the pup would likely die. Given King Solomon’s dilemma, Shay would have cut that precious bundle in two, because that was the kind of monster he was.

Face streaked with tears and dirt, Maddy stepped forward and offered her mind up to Shay, allowing him to Mark her,
to violate her, to possess her in every conceivable way. I felt the change, saw it fall over Maddy’s body with the weight of chains.
The pup in her arms stirred, pressing clumsy feet against her mother’s stomach.

Foreign. Wolf.

Maddy wasn’t Pack—not to us, not anymore. The rules said she was Shay’s now. The rules said that no one else could claim her unless he willingly let her go—and he would never, ever let her go.

That was reality. That was the truth. Maddy was gone. Chase was dead. The rules said the only way I could attack Shay with impunity was if he offered up his own life or attacked me first. Personally. Directly.

Rules had let him kill Chase.

Rules had let him send Lucas into my pack to kill me.

I hated the rules. I hated them, hated that I was a part of this world, that Callum had ever saved my life, that I had grown up thinking this was
normal
, and that the only slice of normal I’d ever had was gone—without warning, forever. I would never, even for a second, get to be
just a girl
again, and Chase would never get to
be
.

Because of the rules.

“You never stood a chance,” Shay told me, in a voice best reserved to lovers whispering in bed. “Look around, Bryn. Everything you see is mine—and what isn’t now”—his eyes lingered on Lake—“will be soon.”

I looked around. I saw his pack, his numbers. I felt their power, the way he’d meant for me to. I thought about what we had lost, and I thought about the rules.

That’s when I realized—what Shay had done. What I could do. The possibility took root in my mind and filled the emptiness inside me with one purpose.

One plan.

“Until next time,” Shay said, directing the words at me
before turning to Maddy. “Time to go, Madison. We’ll
have plenty of time later to discuss your reluctance to give me my due.”

Shay was still putting on a show for me, letting me know that while he wouldn’t kill her, he would hurt her—because she’d chosen me, twice. Because the rules said he could.

One purpose.
My heart beat with it. Each breath in and out of my lungs fueled it.
One plan.

I hadn’t found a way to save Chase. I was too human. I’d stood there and let him die because he asked me to. Because I hadn’t seen another way. Because Shay had come here with a plan, and I hadn’t.

One purpose. One plan.

Shay turned to go, jerking Maddy alongside him. The rest of the Snake Bend Pack pulled in to follow. I felt the brush of fur against my ankles and legs as they passed. I heard the snapping of teeth, and I let myself think the words that had knocked over a long line of dominoes in my mind.

He brought his entire pack.

I waited until they were out of sight, all of them—
Shay, Maddy, the Weres in wolf form and the ones who’d
chosen to run as humans. They disappeared to the west,
through Shadow Bluff territory, and I absentmindedly added the Shadow Bluff alpha to my list.

The list of people responsible for the bodies on the
ground.

The list of people I would never forgive, never forget.

Wordlessly, I knelt next to Chase’s body. In death, he’d Shifted back to human form. His face was frozen in an expressionless mask. His eyes were open, his body a bloody mess.

I brought my hand to his cheeks. I closed his eyes. I expected to feel something, to feel him, but I didn’t.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Gone.

I straightened and stood. No crying, no tears, no asking
God why. All that mattered was taking from Shay what he’d taken from me.

The thing that mattered most.

Lake opened her mouth to say something, but no words
came out. Caroline was equally silent, her eyes bloodshot, dead.
Maybe I should have blamed her for this, added her name to the list. She was the one who had fired the shots, she was the one who’d gotten under my skin enough that I’d put my pack on the line to protect her.

But there were only three of us now—three teenagers,
alone on a mountain, our dead scattered like petals at our feet.

“We should put the bodies in the cave,” I said. “We won’t have time to bury them.”

“What?” Caroline sounded like I felt. I was half-surprised she didn’t take a swing at me.

“We’ll come back,” I told her. “But right now, you and Lake need to move the bodies, and I need to call Devon.”

Lake reached out and touched Caroline’s arm. Caroline continued glaring at me, but she didn’t voice an objection. She must have seen that I had a purpose.

A plan.

“And after you do that, and we do this?” Lake asked.

I didn’t smile. Not yet. Maybe not ever again. I just ground
my teeth together, got out my phone, and answered Lake’s
question.

“Then,” I said as I dialed, “we’re going to catch a plane.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I
T TOOK US AN HOUR TO GET TO THE CLOSEST AIRPORT,
a tiny little strip of a thing that didn’t fly commercial. I’d been willing to commandeer a plane by force if necessary, but there was no need: pilot, plane, and a small white envelope bearing my name were waiting for us when we got there—courtesy of Callum.

He’d known we’d come here, and he’d known where we’d be
headed—and why. Any doubt I might have clung to that he hadn’t foreseen Chase’s death—hadn’t already
apologized
for
it—evaporated.

There wasn’t an apology in the world—before, during, or after—that could make this right. A plane and a pilot and the Stone River alpha’s reassurance—via note card—that he would be glad to send Devon’s father to stay at the Wayfarer in his son’s stead did nothing to change what had happened.

What Callum had let happen.

I didn’t bother calling him. I sent permission for Lance to enter our territory via text. Then I closed my eyes and waited—for the plane to land, for Shay to realize that he’d pushed the wrong girl too far.

Devon met us near the northern border of Shay’s territory.
I was betting that to get to Maddy’s hideout, Shay would
have had to take his pack north, up and around Cedar Ridge,
and then down into Shadow Bluff territory and over. Even
at werewolf speed, the return journey would take time—more time than it took Devon to get here from the Wayfarer, and more time than it took Lake, Caroline, and me to fly.

In a fair race, I wouldn’t have been able to outrun Shay, but werewolves had a tendency to forget about things like planes, and I was done with
fair
.

Now was the time for playing dirty.

“This is what you want?” I asked Caroline.

“It is.”

I didn’t ask her if she was sure—didn’t need to be told that the answer was yes. Digging my fingernails into her flesh, I made good on the assurance I’d given Shay in the mountains: Caroline wasn’t just any human.

She was ours.

With little ceremony and only Devon and Lake as an audience, I made Caroline a member of the Cedar Ridge Pack. I tied her mind to mine, to the others. I Marked her, the way that Callum had once Marked me.

She didn’t flinch, and I got the feeling that Caroline would have gladly gotten in bed with the devil himself if it meant taking Shay down a notch.

Hurting him, the way he’d hurt us.

“So that’s it, then,” Caroline said. “I’m one of you.”

I got a vague and fuzzy sense of her thoughts on the other side of the pack-bond—not nearly as clear as they would have been if she was a Were. I heard enough to know that this was not a place she’d ever expected to be.

Welcome to the club.

She startled at the sound of my voice in her head, and I figured it wouldn’t be long before she learned to shut me out, the way Ali did, the way I’d shut Callum out, growing up.

Let’s do this.

Even with the addition of Caroline, four was a small number
to represent our pack, but Devon was my second-in-command,
and at the moment, he was bleeding power, anger,
pain
.

Our eyes met, and his took on the sheen of tears. He crossed the space between us and opened his arms. I’d been intent on staying strong, on keeping my emotions in check, but seeing Devon undid something inside of me. He’d been there when Callum brought me home to the Stone River Pack. He’d been the reason it had started to feel like home—and he’d been with me every step of the way since then.

It was killing him that this time, he hadn’t been there,
that I’d been gutted, and he wasn’t there to stop it.

Without thought or hesitation, I launched myself into
Devon’s grasp. I buried my face in his shirt—purple silk that smelled like him, felt like him. I didn’t cry, but my body shook like I was sobbing.

Devon murmured to me, held me, hurt for me. Through the bond, I could feel his emotions, and I felt him feeling mine. We only
stayed that way for three seconds, maybe four, before I stepped back, sending a death glare around the group, daring them to comment.

No one said a word.

I went over the plan—again and again. It was simple, but we couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.

We were going to do this by the rules.

Eventually, Griff joined us. He didn’t ask what had happened or what had brought us to Snake Bend territory. Maybe he’d been watching. Maybe he’d tried to see Maddy again and had realized she was with Shay.

Maybe he saw all he needed to see in Lake’s eyes.

“We have a plan?” he asked.

Two werewolves, two humans, and a ghost up against the third-largest werewolf pack in North America?

“Yeah,” I said. “We have a plan.” I outlined the details, the rules. “Think you can handle damage control?”

I hadn’t counted on Griffin’s presence, but having an ally who was impervious to the fangs and claws of our opponents
wouldn’t hurt—though if things went according to plan,
there wouldn’t be much of a fight.

“We’re really doing this,” Lake said. It wasn’t a question,
or a complaint. She punctuated that fact with a low whistle.
“This is big.”

She was right.

This wasn’t defense.

This wasn’t waiting for Shay’s next move.

This was war.