Wolf Obsessed (Betrayed by Blood

Book 3) Bethany Shaw

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Wolf Obsessed

Bethany Shaw
Copyright © 2024 by Bethany Shaw

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
 Contents

1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Nineteen
20. Twenty
21. Twenty-One
22. Twenty-Two
23. Twenty-Three
24. About Bethany Shaw
25. Also by Bethany Shaw
 One

Sawyer

LINCOLN LAY ON THE bed, unmoving. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths. He’d taken on a pale, ashen color, and
sweat beaded his brow like he might be fighting a fever.
An IV ran from a stand to his left into his arm, pumping fluids and maybe medicine into him. He was shivering despite the
thick layer of blankets covering him almost to his chin.
It had been three days, and he hadn’t woken up yet. The worst part was he didn’t show any signs of waking. I’d tried to speak
with him a few times and never got a reaction.
I couldn’t feel him either. My entire life, even in the womb, I could feel his presence and knew he was there. When I reached
out to him through our link, all I felt was cold and blackness.
Sloane couldn’t reach him either. She felt the same thing I did—nothing.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and shut my eyes. This was all my fault.
If I had been faster, if I’d been there for them, this would have never happened.
I blinked my eyes open and stared at them both, watching as they slept.
Sloane lay in bed next to Lincoln, her eyes shut, resting peacefully. Her hair fanned out around her, some of it on Lincoln and
the rest on the purple pillowcase. Her left hand was on his chest, as if feeling to make sure that his heart still beat.
I tiptoed forward and put my hand on the bed rail, making the floorboards creak beneath my weight. Sloane rolled, and her
eyes slowly opened.
When she saw me, she sat up. The covers fell off her, exposing the shape of her plump breasts hiding beneath her barely
there tank top.
“Sawyer.” A smile spread across her face, and she patted the space on the other side of her.
I exhaled as I closed the distance and sat on the edge of the bed. It dipped beneath my weight and made her fall forward
enough so our faces were right in front of each other.
Sloane put her hand on my shoulder and then rested her chin on it so her mouth was right against my ear. “Lie down with us.”
She gave me a gentle tug, and I let her pull me down on the bed, lifting my legs onto the mattress so I stared up at the ceiling.
Sloane mimicked my stance, curled her fingers around mine, and then did the same with Lincoln’s.
I opened my mouth and then closed it. Emotion clogged my throat as another wave of guilt rocked me.
Sloane squeezed my hand and turned her head so she was looking at me. “No change yet. My mom comes to check on him a
few times a day. He’s fighting. She says that’s good, but she thinks that Mikey gave him a near lethal dose of wolfsbane, and
then there are the injuries. They aren’t healing because of it.”
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I can’t feel him.”
The space where Lincoln lived was empty, black, and cold. It made my stomach pit and my brain foggy.
Sloane licked her lips and let go of Lincoln’s hand so she could swipe at her eyes. “Me either. I hate feeling like he is all
alone in there.”
I rolled my head side to side against the pillow, trying to work out the kinks in my back and shoulders. “Lincoln is strong.
He’s going to pull through this.”
He’d been to hell and back once. He could do it again.
Please, Lincoln. Keep fighting for me. For Sloane.
I didn’t know what I would do if I lost him. Sloane was in danger, too. Dad and Mikey had put a huge target on her. They
wanted her and had every intention of making her suffer.
I gritted my teeth at the thought. I needed to get everything under control. Everything was spiraling.
Sloane turned so that she was facing me. She propped up on one elbow and put her hand on my chest. “How are you holding
up? I haven’t seen you much.”
I reached up and stroked a finger down her cheek, her skin soft and smooth. “I’ve been here. It’s just been late. I didn’t want
to wake you.”
One of us should get some sleep. Dad was planning and plotting. We’d spent nearly every waking moment in the past few
days preparing for our attack.
Sloane peered at me through worried eyes. “Everything all right? I haven’t talked to you.”
I cleared my throat and forced a smile, not wanting to worry her. “My dad has kept me busy. It’s hard enough to find a few
minutes for myself during the day. I’ve been here late at night.”
Her brows pinched as she frowned. “I wish you would wake me. I want to see you. I’ve missed you, Sawyer.”
I skimmed my thumb over her cheek again. “You look so peaceful.”
She bent down and caught my lips briefly. “Promise me you’ll wake me in the future. I want to see and talk to you. My mom
and Willa are great, but they aren’t you. I know they are mated to my dad and Jacob, but I don’t feel like they understand what
I’m feeling. Not like you do. And I just miss you.”
My chest tightened. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I’d failed Lincoln, I was neglecting my mate. I was letting Sloane down,
too.
She must have sensed my thoughts because she pressed her forehead to mine and curled her fingers into my shirt. “Hey, you
have to stop blaming yourself for everything. There are just some things that are out of your control. You can’t carry all that
weight on your shoulders.”
She closed her eyes and let her head fall to my shoulder as she sighed. “We both need to remember that.”
I skimmed my fingers through her hair. “Easier said than done.”
Sloane rubbed my chest. “Talk to me, Sawyer. You don’t have to bear this all on your own.”
I shut my eyes for a moment and set my jaw. She was right, and she probably did need to know what was happening. It was
her and her pack my dad was coming for.
I drew in a shaky breath and let it out. “More men arrive tomorrow. I’m not even sure where they’re coming from. The names
on the list are ones I’m not familiar with. He’s got men from all over.”
Sloane mashed her lips together but nodded at me to continue.
My chest tightened further. “He’s bringing in about a hundred men.”
Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “A hundred?”
My mouth went dry. Her pack wasn’t going to be prepared for that many men. “Yeah, and he’s trying to get more. His reach is
farther than I thought, and there are some packs that are so frightened that they’ve pledged their allegiance to him without him
even having to ask.”
Sloane tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and fell back to look up at the ceiling again. “That’s concerning. We’ve had a
few people leave, thinking it’s better to run and hide.”
Cowards!
I shifted my legs on the bed and bit the inside of my cheek. “Running isn’t going to solve anything. If my dad is allowed to
win, he’s going to come after them, and they’ll regret it.”
Sloane turned so she was looking at me, her eyes wide and full of worry. “You can’t blame them for being scared, Sawyer.
They’re just trying to protect the people they love.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I suppose you’re right. It doesn’t solve the problem. The more people who are fighting, the
better. If everyone runs scared, and no one stands up to my dad, he’ll win. Then, there is no chance for those who have run.”
Sloane reached across me and grabbed my hand, curling her fingers around mine. “I know.”
I turned so I looked into her eyes. I could see the worry as well as the small, faint hint of hope there too. There was an
appeal to running away with her and Lincoln. Someplace far away where my dad would never find us.
But that wasn’t how I wanted to live.
I wanted to have a family. I didn’t want to have to look over my shoulder, constantly worrying that my dad would catch up
with us.
I exhaled loudly, but it did nothing to help the tightness in my chest. “We have to believe that we’re going to make things
better.”
If we believed that the war was already lost, then everything that I’d done, that I’d been an accomplice to, was for nothing.
I’d sat aside and watched helpless people be beaten and killed. That was the problem with being a double agent. You had to
pretend to be okay with it, even when it made your stomach turn. I swore I was losing more of my soul each day.
Sloane twisted so that she was looking at me again, propping her head up with her hand. “My mom told me after Darrin died
and Alpha Dane asked for me to come to your pack that the only thing stronger than fear is hope. The saying stuck with me, but
it’s not that easy.”
“If it were easy, we’d all do it. Someone would’ve stood up to my dad long ago.”
Her eyes widened, and her face paled. “Do you really think that we have a chance at winning?”
 She turned her head so she was looking at Lincoln, and her lips tilted down into a frown.
The tightness in my chest squeezed me like a vise. “We have to win. It’s not an option.”
I wasn’t going to lose. I had Sloane and Lincoln to live for. Failure wasn’t an option. This war was going to be a success, or
I was going to die trying.
Sloane exhaled loudly and turned back to me. “You need to start teaching me how to fight. We need to be ready.”
I leaned in, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and gave her a small smile. “We will be ready. I want to start training you as
soon as possible.”
Lincoln and I were supposed to train her together. We were supposed to work together to keep our mate safe. I just wanted
him to wake up so I could feel him again.
Sloane leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “I need you to start coming around more often.”
I grimaced and swallowed. I’d already told her why I couldn’t come more often, but I got why I needed to. “I’m doing
everything I can. With the men coming and all the planning, my dad keeps me super busy.”
Sloane blinked like she was trying to hold back tears. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask you to keep coming. It’s selfish of
me.”
My throat squeezed. “Don’t ever be afraid to ask me for anything. Ever. Promise me.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, Sawyer. I just don’t want to burden you more. I can’t imagine what
you’re going through.”
I put my hands on my stomach, wishing I could get the pain to go away. “Hey, you are never a burden. We’re all going
through a lot.”
Sloane opened her mouth like she had something else to say, but whatever it was, a loud banging sound interrupted her. I
turned toward her bedroom door like the noise might’ve come from the other side, and then reality hit me.
It wasn’t her door. It was mine, in my bedroom, miles away back at home.
Dad!
I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I have to go. I’ll be back soon.”
With that, I severed the connection.
I blinked my eyes open. The sound of the pounding grew louder. I sprang out of bed and hurried to the door, but I already
knew who was on the other side.
I unlocked the door and opened it, meeting my father’s gaze.
His face had turned red, and his nostrils flared. “What took you so long?” He held up his hand and grumbled under his
breath. “Never mind. Let’s go. We need to talk.”
 Two

Sloane

I RAN MY HAND over Lincoln’s warm forehead and feared he might be getting a fever. We just couldn’t catch a break.
I still couldn’t feel him. It concerned me that Sawyer couldn’t sense him either. Every time I reached out to Lincoln, all I
found was a black void. When I touched him, there was no sign or recognition that he even knew I was here.
Was it too much to want him to squeeze my hand?
I gripped his fingers harder and shut my eyes. Nothing.
I skimmed my fingers down his face, letting my thumb linger over his lips. “I miss you. I need you to wake up, please. For
me. For Sawyer.”
I held my breath, hoping and praying to Luna that my prayers would be heard, and Lincoln would wake up.
He didn’t.
A lump formed in my throat. I hated this. If I’d been faster during Mikey’s attack, this might not have happened to him. He
might be awake and talking to me.
My eyes burned as angry tears filled them.
What’s done is done. No use crying over something you can’t change.
I grabbed the thermometer from my nightstand and scanned it over his head. I released a breath and let my head fall to my
chest. No fever, thank goodness. Maybe I was getting into my own head.
I’d spent so much time in here with him that I couldn’t think straight anymore.
A soft knock on my door drew me from my thoughts.
I looked over my shoulder and then back at Lincoln before standing up and padding across the plush carpet to the door.
Once I opened it, Willa offered me a smile and gave me a small wave. Her long hair was down and freshly washed. I could
still smell the honeysuckle from her shampoo.
Her eyes brightened as she met my gaze. “Hey, I thought I’d come and check on you. I haven’t seen you all day.”
I motioned for her to come in and shut the door behind her. Then I fell against it and let my head hit the wood. “Sorry, I just
haven’t felt right about leaving him alone.”
Willa wrapped her arms around her middle and looked at the bed as she shifted on her feet. The bulge where her leg was
wrapped reminded me that she had her own injury and shouldn’t be standing.
I pushed off the door, pulled out my desk chair, and rolled it toward her. “Here, why don’t you have a seat? How is your
leg?”
Willa walked to the chair, her limp almost completely gone now. “It’s doing good. There’s going to be a really nasty scar, but
I don’t think I’m going to have this limp forever. The pain is so much better now, too.”
She sat down and rubbed her leg.
A genuine smile pulled at my lips. “That’s great news. I’m glad to hear it.”
Willa’s gaze drifted to Lincoln, and she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What about Lincoln? Has there been
any change?”
Shaking my head, I sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped my hands in my lap as I stared down at them. “No.”
Willa’s brows knitted together as she frowned. “I’m sorry. He’s tough though. Look at him. Most people would be dead. He’s
still fighting. That’s a good sign.”
Her words tugged at my heart. I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth to keep it from trembling. She was right, though. I
needed to get my head on straight.
“He has to be fighting.” He was still alive because he was still fighting. It made him strong. He was going to pull through. I
had to believe that for both our sakes. Sawyer’s too.
 Willa leaned back in the chair and pulled one leg up, her heel on the seat. “How have you been feeling? You were hurt too.”
I shrugged. “I’m doing okay. My injuries were nowhere near as severe as Lincoln’s or yours.”
My leg had been broken. I hadn’t been thrown out a window or been sliced open clear to the bone. Nor had I had a nearly
lethal dose of wolfsbane forced into my body. I’d been lucky compared to Willa and Lincoln.
Willa made a humming noise as she rocked the chair back and forth like she might try to spin it. “Have you left your room at
all today?”
I shook my head and reached behind me to put my hand over Lincoln’s leg. “No, I keep hoping he’s going to wake up, and I
don’t want him to be alone if that happens. He’s not even going to know where he is or what happened.”
Willa stopped rocking and hugged her knee to her chest. “I can understand that. I got knocked out when I was captured and
had no idea where I was when I woke up until I saw Alpha Dane looming over me.”
She shuddered and pulled her leg in tighter. “At least he’ll be waking up in a warm bed instead of in the back of a van. And
the room smells like you. That will be calming.”
Willa and I had never really talked about what happened when she was captured. The only thing I knew was that she and
Jacob had been separated.
“You’re right. Being surrounded by my scent should help. Waking up in the back of a van sounds awful. I didn’t realize that’s
what happened.”
Willa blew out a shaky breath and then forced out a laugh as she waved her hand. “It’s fine. It all worked out in the end. I’m
here with Jacob, and we’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
Keeping my grasp on Lincoln’s leg, I tucked my legs crisscrossed on the bed. “Is Jacob on patrol tonight?”
Willa swallowed as she nodded. “Yes. I hate it every time he has to go out, even though I know why. I just wish that this was
all over so I wouldn’t have to keep worrying.”
I picked at a spot on the bedspread. “You know you’re welcome here anytime, right? I’m always around to talk.”
“I know. I’m grateful for it.” She leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “How is Sawyer?”
I picked at the spot on the comforter some more until fuzz started to come out. “I feel like I see him less and less every day.
His dad is keeping him busy. They’re gearing up for the next attack.”
Willa’s face paled, and she put a hand over her chest. “Maybe we should take the fight back to him again. It worked out well
last time.”
I tilted my head from side to side, considering. “It did. We had the element of surprise, but I don’t know if it would work out
a second time. It’s not a bad idea, though.”
It was something I would definitely run by my dad. I was sure he’d already thought about it and every other option. Who
knows though? He might actually already be planning something. If I left this room, I might have a better idea of what was
going on in the pack.
My stomach gurgled loudly. It sounded like I hadn’t eaten in days.
Both Willa and I laughed at the noise, and I rubbed my belly to silence it.
Willa motioned to Lincoln. “I can stay with him if you want to go get something to eat.”
I shook my head. “I’m really hoping to be here when he wakes up.”
Willa stood and closed the distance, taking a seat next to me on the bed and patting my hand. “Lincoln would want you to go
and eat. You have to take care of yourself. I promise I won’t leave him alone, and if he looks like he is going to wake up, I’ll
yell for you right away.”
My stomach rumbled again. I looked down at my lap and sighed. She was right—I needed to eat something.
“Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I got up and went to the door but turned back to her.
Willa waved at me. “Go. I promise I’ll get you if anything changes.”
I exhaled loudly. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”
I stepped outside and shut the door quietly before padding down the hall and then to the stairs.
My mouth watered as the smell of dinner wafted in the air. My stomach gurgled.
Yum. Pasta sauce and sausage.
Spaghetti night was one of my favorites. My mom made delicious homemade meatballs, and I hoped there were still some
left in the pot. They always went fast.
I took the steps a couple at a time and rounded the corner, bounding towards the kitchen.
My mom glanced up when she saw me. I went straight to the stove and popped the lid off the pot.
My face fell. There were no more meatballs.
My mom laughed and went to the fridge to pull out a Tupperware container, which she handed to me. “I made sure to save
you some, my love. I was going to bring it up to you after I finished cleaning up, but you saved me the trip.”
I threw my arms around her and hugged her. “Thank you.”
She squeezed me back and then gave me a small kiss on the cheek. “If you didn’t come down, I was going to insist that you
did when I brought you dinner. You can’t stay in that room all day, my love. It’s not good for you.”
 I pulled back and forced a smile as I looked away from her worried gaze. I pulled the top off of the Tupperware and put my
dinner in the microwave. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do, Mom.”
She pressed her lips together and set the sponge in the dishwater. “You have to take care of yourself, Sloane. I know it’s
hard.”
She leaned into the counter with her hip. “I’ve never had to worry over your father like this, but there were several nights
when you kids were very, very sick, and even then I knew that I had to take care of myself. Otherwise, who would be able to
take care of you?”
I went to the drawer, pulled out a fork, and moved it around my fingers as I considered her words.
My mom went back to the sink to resume the dishes, sloshing the steamy water as she did them. “You also need to make sure
that you’re taking the time to go out and shift.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe tomorrow.”
My wolf bristled at my words. I hadn’t let her out since the night we came home. She was eager to run and stretch her legs.
My mom turned to look at me as she continued to vigorously scrub a pot. “No. I want you to go out tonight. You haven’t
shifted since the day you came home. The last thing you want is for that bone to not heal properly.”
Her brows drew together as she frowned. “And it’s not good for your wolf either. You need to take care of yourself, my love.
I’m insisting you go out tonight. It’s not a negotiation.”
I opened my mouth, not entirely sure if I was going to agree or protest, but I didn’t get the chance.
My mom set the sponge back in the sink and grabbed the dish towel to dry her hands. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t
make me have your brothers go out with you. They’ll make sure you not only go out, but also keep you out longer than you’ll
want to.”
I held up my hand and then went back to the microwave to pull my dinner out. “Fine. I’ll do it as soon as I’m done eating.”
She nodded. “Good.”
I glanced around the kitchen, catching the time on the stove. It was almost nine o’clock at night. I had no idea where the day
had gone.
My mom went back to the dishes while I chowed down on my spaghetti and meatballs.
She glanced over her shoulder. “How have you been feeling?”
I wound some spaghetti around my fork. “Tired, worried.”
Like I was losing my mind.
My mom fell silent for a long moment as she continued to scrub at the dishes. “I know you worry over Lincoln, but you must
keep up your strength. This war won’t end anytime soon. We all need to stay strong. I fear that this is going to continue on for a
very long time.”
I shoved a meatball into my mouth, chewed, then swallowed. “Do we still have more people coming here?”
My mom pulled the plug and let the water drain out of the sink. “We hear from more packs every day. There are plenty of
people willing to come and fight with us. The more people involved, the bloodier it will get, and the longer it’s going to take to
come to a resolution.”
She put a hand over her chest and fiddled with her necklace. “We must all save our strength for the time to come.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I chewed on more spaghetti and swallowed it down.
My mom opened her mouth like she might say something else, but the kitchen door opened, and my dad peeked in. “Good,
you’re both in here. I need to speak with the both of you in my office right now.”
 Three

Sloane

I TUGGED ON THE ends of my sweater as I followed my mom into my dad’s office. I stretched my fingers against the soft
fabric and tried to keep my breathing even. Dad never called us into his office urgently unless there was something going on.
I shut the door and turned the lock with trembling fingers before following my mom to the couch, where we both took a seat. I
sat on the edge and fisted my hands in my lap.
Mark and Brandon sat on the couch opposite us. Brandon stared at something on the wall to my right, and Mark couldn’t sit
still. He kept bouncing his leg up and down and running a hand through his hair.
My dad stood in a spot between the two couches and looked down at the floor as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He
turned to my mom and me. “I spoke with the sheriff a few minutes ago. He stopped out here to check up on a few things.”
Dad scrubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes for a moment. “He was telling me that he was following up on the
lead I gave him about Darin’s death. He found something interesting when he was doing his searching.”
I scooted forward. Dad hadn’t wanted to involve the sheriff, but circumstances and the way that we’d received my brother’s
body had made it impossible not to.
I swallowed, my heart pounding faster as I waited for my dad to continue.
His jaw worked, and he had to draw in a few deep breaths. Talking about my brother was so hard for him. It was hard for us
all.
Dad cleared the throat. “He’s been looking into Alpha Dane as a person of interest. He stumbled upon Alpha Dane’s
involvement on his own. It seems he’s not as clever and careful where humans are involved either. I advised the sheriff against
continuing the investigation, but you know how the sheriff is.”
Dad rubbed at his temples and puffed out his cheeks before waving his hand. “Anyway, he found something that he brought to
my attention. It appears that someone set up a wiretap on your mom’s and my phones.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to try to keep tears from welling in my eyes. “That’s how they knew where to find Lincoln and
me.”
My dad gave a curt nod. “It appears that way. The sheriff said that normally he couldn’t tell me about these things, but given
the circumstances and what happened to your brother, he thought it was important that we know.”
He sighed heavily. “He also confirmed that the wiretap wasn’t done by the government, and he found no evidence of a
warrant. It was done by the local police by where Alpha Dane lives, and he thinks it was obtained illegally.”
My mom made a sound in the back of her throat and rubbed her hands up and down her pants. “We can’t let the sheriff be
involved in our pack business. It’s too dangerous, David. It’s put the entire department in the middle of our war. Not to mention
if anyone were to find out about us.”
My dad took a seat next to my mom, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. “I know. I’ve already asked him to stand down, but
you know how thorough he is. I’m afraid that he won’t.”
A lump formed in my throat, but I pushed past it. “Dad, it goes against our shifter rules to tell people about us. If other packs
find out we’re involving outsiders, it could stop people from coming. It could open the door to a whole new world of dangers.
There’s a reason we keep our kind a secret.”
If the wrong people found out about us, we could be hunted.
My dad gave me a grim look like he’d already considered it. “I know. I’m handling the situation as fast as I can. But at least
now we know how Mikey was able to find you and Lincoln so quickly.”
Mark cleared his throat and leaned forward on his elbows. “Does that mean we don’t think there is a mole?”
My dad frowned, his brows knitting together as he rubbed his jaw. “There is no way to be certain. We should still tread
carefully.”
 I flopped back against the couch and let my head fall against the cushions. “Is there any way to get the tap off the phones?”
The couch squeaked as my dad stood again. “Actually, I asked the sheriff not to remove them. If Alpha Dane thinks that his
wiretap is still safely in place, then perhaps we can use that to our advantage.”
Mark rested his chin on his elbows. “You want to feed him false information.”
Dad nodded. “Exactly. Alpha Dane isn’t afraid to fight dirty. We need to use every opportunity that we can get.”
Mark rubbed his jaw. “I’m sure we could think of a few ways that we could exploit that.”
I sat up straight, stiffening my spine as I looked at my dad. “What if we asked the sheriff to put a wiretap on Alpha Dane’s
phone?”
Mark narrowed his eyes at me. “Why would we need that when you have Sawyer still there?”
I met my brother’s gaze. “Because I hope that Sawyer doesn’t always have to be there. And if we can secure something now
and keep it there, he won’t even think to look for it later when he finds out about Sawyer’s betrayal.”
Dad looked between Mark and me and then to Brandon. “Do you have anything else to add, son?”
Brandon jumped like a kid who’d got caught in class for not paying attention. “No. But what she said sounds good.”
Dad nodded and started to pace in front of the two couches. “We’re in unchartered territory now. I trust everyone in this
room with all of our lives. So if you see something or think of an idea, please tell me. I never in a million years thought that I
would be in the middle of a pack war.”
My mom exhaled and dabbed at her eyes.
My heart pinched. I hated seeing her cry.
She drew in a shaky breath and then let it out. “I think Sloane is right. We should go to the sheriff. See if he’ll do the wiretap
for us. That boy can’t stay behind enemy lines forever. Each day he stays there, the bigger the risk he gets caught. Besides, if he
defects at the right time, it might help bring more people to our cause.”
I grimaced and turned to my mom. “Would we really take people in that have been working for Alpha Dane?”
Her lips turned down, and she considered her next words for a moment. “If Sawyer is working there against his will, I have
to believe that others are, too. You weren’t with your brothers or your father when they made it to the prison those women were
kept in.”
She put her hand on her necklace and fiddled with it. “You didn’t see the women there and what they were being forced to
endure. After what I’ve heard, I have to believe that some of the men are there to protect their family and loved ones.”
My shoulders dropped, and I tucked my chin to my chest. I’d been so wrapped up in Lincoln and his injuries that I hadn’t
even thought to ask about all the other women. Guilt washed over me, making my stomach knot.
Mom reached out and patted my thigh. “It’s okay, my love. You’ve had a lot on your plate.”
Mark shifted on the couch so he sat up straighter. “But she’s right too, Mom. Those men are there willingly. Mostly, I
suppose. At least Sawyer is actively working against the alpha, even if he was doing things while there.”
Mark fisted his hands in his lap. “Some of those guys are doing everything without questioning it, without doing anything to
better the situation. I don’t know how we are supposed to trust them when they can follow Alpha Dane so blindly.”
Dad rubbed his chin. “All valid points. I don’t suppose that we can really make a judgment until we meet any potential
people. I do think that we should consider accepting them, but we need to be cautious. My thought is we will handle them on a
case-by-case basis.”
Mark looked at my dad for a long moment before he nodded his approval. Mom gave her consent too.
Then Dad turned his attention to me. I squirmed under his gaze. What if there were more men there like Sawyer secretly
plotting? It would be hard to say something. No one knew who they could trust, and speaking out of turn to the wrong person
would get you killed.
I mashed my lips together. “We’ll need to think of a careful line of questioning.”
Dad shifted on his feet. “Agreed. We need to be careful. We can all think about that and discuss in a few days.”
Mom patted my thigh again. “I was just telling Sloane over dinner that she needed to get out and go shift. She hasn’t shifted
since the day she came home, and I think it would be good for her.”
Dad’s brows pinched together with worry. “Sloane, I know things have been hectic, but you have to take care of yourself.”
Heat scorched my cheeks, and I looked down at my lap. “I know. I’ll go as soon as we’re finished here.”
Dad closed the distance between us and put a hand on my shoulder. “I believe we are done here for now. I have a lot of
thinking and strategizing to do with the other alphas, and I still have to think about what I want to tell them about what we’ve
learned. You should go now, though. We’re not going to be discussing anything further this evening.”
I blew out a breath and stood as my dad moved away. He was always careful and cautious, taking his time to think through
situations. He’d mull over everything that we’d discussed here before meeting with the other alphas in the morning.
Mom got up too and wrapped her arms around my shoulder. “Come, my love. I’ll walk you to the door unless, of course, you
want one of your brothers to go with you.”
Mark looked like he was shellshocked. He had a fine sheen of sweat on his brow, and he kept running his hands through his
hair. Brandon just stared absently at a spot on the couch. This was too much for them.
 I couldn’t blame them. It was too much for anyone.
Mom tugged me a little closer as she led me to the door. She pressed her head against mine and gave me a gentle nudge so I
had to go through first, and then she followed me out, closing the door behind her. Without a word, she followed me through the
house and onto the front porch.
She reached up and brushed some hair from my face. “You carry all this weight on your shoulders, my love. You are so much
like your father. I need you to go out there and relax. Run. Enjoy the freedom of your wolf. Can you do that for me?”
I threw my arms around my mom, hugging her tight.
She grabbed me and murmured in my ear, “Oh, my love. Everything is going to be okay.”
In my mother’s embrace, I could almost believe her. There was something about the safety of her that made me think that I
could take on the world. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that was true anymore, though.
Alpha Dane was coming, and people were going to get hurt.
But she was right. I couldn’t keep carrying all of this on my shoulders.
My mom pulled back and kissed my forehead. “Go for a run. I promise you you’ll feel better afterwards.”
I closed my eyes briefly and sighed. A weight lifted from my chest that I didn’t even realize had been there. “Thanks, Mom.”
She patted me on the cheek. “You know I’m here for you anytime you need to talk, my love.”
My mom gave me a soft smile and then a shove toward the edge of the porch. “Now go. You need to run.”
I took the stairs two at a time and glanced over my shoulder to the front door. My heart thumped as I thought about Lincoln.
Mom waved at me. “I’ll be sure to send someone out to get you if anything changes with Lincoln.”
I forced a smile and waved at her before jogging toward the woods. To the right, a few houses lined the path where most of
the enforcers stayed. Just beyond their quarters, more housing was quickly being built but wasn’t ready for inhabitants yet.
The weather was changing, and the tents we had put up for shelter wouldn’t be sufficient. The wind blew, whipping my hair
into my face and sending a cold chill down my spine. The temperatures were already dropping low at night.
The dew and moisture in the air suggested rain was coming. I rubbed my arms, hoping to get back inside before that started.
It was cold enough without getting sopping wet.
The setting sun cast an orange glow in the sky. Most everyone was inside and getting ready for the night. The patrols were
out, searching, waiting, and making sure that none of Alpha Dane’s men were here.
I couldn’t see our enforcers, but with everything at stake, I knew that the guards were out. They were watching, and I hoped
they were being vigilant.
I didn’t slow my jog until I was in the safety of the trees. The leaves crunched beneath my feet, painting the forest floor in
beautiful yellows and oranges.
Most of the trees still had their leaves, and they rustled in the slight breeze. I continued until I found the log that my brothers
and I used to use as a starting and ending point when we did our laps for racing.
I sat down on it and stared ahead at the well-worn path. Darrin and I had met here every morning to go for a race.
I missed those days. I missed him more. Tears pricked my eyes, and I stood, swiping them away with the back of my hand.
I kicked off my shoes first, undressed quickly, and then folded my clothes into a nice pile before dropping to my hands and
knees.
I pictured my wolf simmering beneath the surface, and then she came out. My bones snapped and realigned in a pleasure
pain. My hair changed, shortening on my head and turning to the soft white of my wolf.
Once I was fully shifted, I shook out my rear and then rocked back into a stretch. Mom was right. Of course she was. When
wasn’t she right? I needed this.
I crouched and then sprang forward, darting through the woods like when I would race with Darrin. I zipped along the path at
breakneck speed.
It reminded me of the short race Lincoln and I had had at his house. Maybe one day soon we could find our own trail and
make a new path that we could run together.
I could almost see it now: Lincoln, Sawyer, and me, all running alongside our own special path on the property. I ran faster
and imagined my mates behind me, just barely able to keep up. I would be faster, of course. I always was when racing my
brothers. And I’d beat Lincoln the one time we’d raced.
I was so caught up in my daydream that I didn’t notice that I wasn’t alone until a blur of white and gray crossed my path. The
wolf dove at me from the brush, snarling and hackles raised.
My feet slid across the dewy ground as I stopped just before the wolf clipped me. His tail whipped me in the face, making
my eyes sting and water.
Growling, the wolf lunged at me again.
 Four

Sloane

I DARTED TO THE right, rose up on my back legs, and launched myself at the wolf.
I landed on his back, and my momentum pushed him and made him stumble. He fell to his side while I sank my teeth into his
shoulder blade.
He rolled, somehow got his feet under me, and shoved, sending me flying off him. I tumbled through the leaves, and my back
hip hit one of the trees. I yelped in pain and wiggled as I tried to right myself.
The wolf didn’t give me a chance to recover. He pounced and landed on me. I ducked, rolled onto my belly, and tried to push
to my feet. It was no use, though. He was bigger and stronger.
I twisted, arching my back and sinking my canines into his leg. He howled as blood flooded my mouth.
My pulse quickened. My hackles rose as he shoved me into the tree. My chest screamed as my breath whooshed out of my
lungs, making them wheeze in protest.
He reared his head into the side of my face. I bit the inside of my lip hard enough that blood pooled in my mouth. I
whimpered. My vision darkened, and pain exploded in my skull.
I blinked, fighting to stay conscious.
Sawyer… He was trying to reach out to me. I tugged at the imaginary rope that linked us together.
The wolf pulled away, and I drew in a painful breath. My reprieve was short. The wolf attacked again, driving his head and
shoulders right into my ribs.
I gasped as I fought against the darkness that threatened to pull me under.
He clamped down on my arm, his teeth digging in enough to hurt, but I didn’t think he broke the skin. The wolf took a few
steps back, dragging me through the dirt.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a count of three and prayed that the world would stop spinning so I could get my bearings.
The world vibrated and spun. Nausea churned in my belly.
White noise filled my ears, and then Sawyer was around me, everywhere, even inside me.
His voice echoed in my head. Sloane, you have to get up. He’s not trying to kill you. He’s trying to take you.
I gritted my teeth and fought through the haze for clarity. He was right.
I turned my head just in time to see him racing at me again. I scrambled to my feet and leaped out of the way just in time. The
wolf ran face-first into the tree trunk.
He yelped, and then a thump sounded.
I spun around on trembling legs, and before I even thought about it, I attacked. It wasn’t really me; it was Sawyer. He was in
my head and in control of my body.
Together, we went in for the kill. I sank my teeth into the soft, fleshy part of the side of his neck and bit down with everything
I had. The wolf’s blood coated my tongue, filling my mouth with a metallic taste.
I lifted my right front paw and swiped it down his side, making sure to flex my nails so they dug in as deep as possible to
inflict damage.
I twisted my head back and forth, briefly aware of Sawyer telling me to stop. But why? This wolf wasn’t going to show me
mercy. Why should I show it to him?
Sawyer’s voice filled my head. Sloane, you have to stop. You’re going to kill him.
You want me to stop?
He’s too injured to attack you again now. We need to get answers from him. I didn’t know he was here, Sloane. We need to
find out if there are others.
My heart thundered at Sawyer’s admission. Alpha Dane was still keeping secrets from him. Did he suspect Sawyer was on
our side? Or worse, did he know?
I released my death bite on the wolf and stepped back. My jaw ached from how hard I’d been biting, so I opened and shut my
mouth to help relax it. I took a couple of steps back and realized Sawyer’s wolf stood nearby.
He bounded toward me and nuzzled my neck. Are you hurt?
I did a quick assessment. I was sore in a couple of areas and sure I was going to have bruises, but nothing horrible. No, I’m
okay.
Sawyer rubbed his head against mine. Thank goodness. Why were you out here alone?
I didn’t realize there was someone here. I thought it was safe.
The muscles in my back tightened. I wasn’t safe, probably not anywhere, even though this was my home, my parents’ land.
Alpha Dane had shown that he could get to me pretty much anywhere.
Sawyer looked at my face. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.
I shuddered. Is it?
Sawyer exhaled and looked at the ground. We are going to make it okay.
I didn’t have the heart to ask him how. With every day that went by, the stakes for us and the danger we were all in grew
higher.
Sawyer nudged me with his muzzle. Let’s get your clothes and get you dressed. This guy will be waking up soon. I’d feel
better if there were more people here when he dies.
I turned back to the shifter, who had already transitioned back to a human. This happened automatically when a shifter was
injured severely to keep humans from finding us. Blood coated his torso and neck, but the wounds weren’t as severe as they
looked.
Sawyer was right. I needed to get help right now.
I spun toward the direction of the house, took a few steps, and then looked over my shoulder. Sawyer wasn’t following.
I tilted my head to the side. Aren’t you coming?
Sawyer looked back at the guy. No, I want to stay here in case he wakes up.
I shifted on my feet, looking from Sawyer to the guy. But you’re not really here, right?
Sawyer’s ears twitched. I’m not. But I think with you as close as you are, if I can maintain the connection if he were to
wake up, I could follow him, and he would never know me to be behind him. But you need to go get your people. I don’t
want him getting away.
I narrowed my eyes. Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part knew he was right. I’ll be right back.
I turned back toward the path and sprinted as fast as I could. My lungs roared like they were on fire. Branches whipped
against my face, and thorns pricked my fur as I ducked through the brush, taking a shortcut. I ignored the pain until I came to the
log where I’d changed.
I shut my eyes and triggered my shift until I was on my hands and knees. I tossed my tank top and pants on and left the rest of
the stuff as I ran for the house. Sticks and leaves jabbed into the bottoms of my feet as I ran.
Ian stepped into my path with his hands up. “Sloane, is everything okay?”
Jacob was right behind him, his brows creased with worry. “Sloane?”
I pointed in the direction I had come. “There’s one of Alpha Dane’s men in the woods. I took him out.”
My words came out clipped from how out of breath I was, and I had to lean forward and put my hands on my knees so I
could try to catch it. But that only seemed to make it worse.
I gulped in air, but the tightness in my chest remained.
Ian turned to Jacob. “Go to the house and get the alpha. Sloane, can you show me where he was?”
I forced myself to stand upright. I was too hot, and my lungs fought to draw in enough breath. A bout of dizziness washed
over me, making me sway.
I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to five, and then opened them. My hands twitched as I pointed in the direction where I’d
been attacked.
Ian followed where I was pointing, but I knew that wasn’t good enough.
I forced a deep breath in through my nose and let it out slowly through my mouth. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I was still breathless, but I mustered up everything I had and sprinted back in the direction Sawyer stood.
Tree branches bit my skin, hard enough that they drew blood. Thorns caught in my hair as I darted through some of the
underbrush that I usually ran through as a wolf. Ian kept pace a few feet behind me. We didn’t stop until we made it back to
where Sawyer sat on the ground in , watching the unconscious man.
Ian put his hand on my shoulder before moving past me. “You took him on by yourself.”
I put my hands behind my head and laced my fingers together. My chest heaved, and sweat glided down my back. “Sort of,
yeah.”
Ian knew about Sawyer, but he couldn’t see him, and just thinking about trying to explain how our connection worked gave
me a headache.
 Ian crouched next to the man and put his fingers on his pulse point. “He’s still alive. The wounds don’t look too horrible in
his human form.”
I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my middle. I’d done that. I’d wanted to kill him. If Sawyer hadn’t stopped me, I
might have.
I blinked rapidly and glanced around, my gaze landing on Sawyer. He nodded at me, his words from earlier ringing in my
mind. This guy would be waking up soon.
I cleared my throat and dropped my hands to my sides. “I can help you bring him back.”
Ian looked at me, giving me a once-over before he shook his head. “You were just attacked and ran at least a couple miles
back and forth. I can manage carrying him.”
Ian lifted the guy’s arm and then picked him up so he was carrying him like a fireman would carry someone out of a burning
building. He wobbled a little as he stood and adjusted the guy’s weight.
Ian grunted as he looked at me. “Keep an eye on him. Let me know if he shows any signs of waking. I hope we get back
before that happens.”
Him and me both.
Ian started down the path, and I followed a few steps behind, my gaze on the intruder, watching for any signs of movement.
Sawyer fell into step next to me.
I reached over and slid my palm into Sawyer’s and sighed as the pressure in my chest finally lifted. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Sawyer’s jaw worked, and he ran his free hand over his face. “Me too. When I felt your fear…I…”
I squeezed his hand. “It’s okay.”
He laughed hollowly and looked away. “It’s not okay, Sloane. You could have been killed. There could be other men here.
I’m supposed to be keeping you one step ahead. That asshole should have never gotten close enough to touch you.”
I threaded my free hand through my hair, grimacing when it got snarled in a nasty tangle. I picked at the knot. “Why do you
think your dad isn’t telling you everything? Do you think he suspects you?”
I shivered at the thought. We’d seen what happened to Lincoln. If Sawyer were caught, I feared his punishment would be ten
times worse. Sawyer was supposed to be the future alpha.
Sawyer exhaled, his nostrils flaring. “He suspects someone. He doesn’t think Lincoln was acting alone. I’m a likely
candidate. He knows how close we are.”
A cold chill zipped down my spine. “What does that mean? Do you think you’re in danger?”
I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I looked at Sawyer.
A tick formed in his jaw, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared straight ahead. “It means I have to be extra careful. My dad
is always watching. I’ll have to find a way to get him to focus on someone else.”
I continued to unravel the knot in my hair as tears pricked my eyes. “How are you going to do that?”
Sawyer closed his eyes briefly and then looked at the ground. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll find a way.”
My bottom lip trembled. “Sawyer, you need a plan. If your father catches you—”
“He’ll kill me.”
 Five

Sawyer

I PACED BACK AND forth over the worn wooden floor of the barn as more of Sloane’s pack filed into the building.
Sloane stood by the door, arms crossed over her chest. She shifted on her feet and stood tall, her gaze never wavering from
the man who had attacked her.
More enforcers had arrived, and they were stringing the intruder up with a rope in the rafters so he hung much the same way
Lincoln had just a few days ago.
I gritted my teeth at the reminder. It was a necessary action.
Sloane pushed off the wall and disappeared outside. She was gone for only a second before reappearing, grasping a man’s
arm, her fingers digging into his sweater.
He must be her father. The resemblance was uncanny. She leaned in, putting her mouth close to his ear, and said something.
His gaze snapped in my direction. She must’ve told him I was here. If he could see me, he’d be looking right at me.
I stopped pacing and stood up straight, my mouth drying. Would her father ever approve of me? What about Lincoln? Or
were we doomed from the get-go because of our father?
I shook the thought away. Now wasn’t the time.
Sloane’s dad wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to the center of the room so she was standing in front of the
intruder hanging from the rafters. He was awake now, but his mouth was clenched shut, and he refused to look at anyone.
Sloane’s dad put himself protectively in front of her. “You have the audacity to attack my daughter on my pack’s land. I want
to know why.”
Everyone fell silent as the enforcer looked up, his lips curled and his eyes pinched. “Alpha Dane wants what is his. She was
given to Pack Wolf Blood and needs to be returned.”
A growl vibrated in my throat as I stomped forward to stand protectively in front of Sloane as well. Not that it did any good.
Nobody could see or hear me, but I hoped to hell that this asshole could feel my presence.
Sloane’s dad glared at the enforcer, his face flushed red and his chest heaving. “Wolves choose their pack. Sloane went there
as a peace offering. Your pack violated that, and she chose to return home. No one should be forced to live under those
conditions.”
The enforcer scowled and shook his head. “The days of wolves choosing their packs are over. Alpha Dane is going to be the
ultimate alpha. He will rule everyone. Those who stand against him will be slaughtered.”
The enforcer’s face hardened. “She’d make it a lot easier on herself if she returns willingly. He might go easy on her.”
I fisted my hands at my sides. My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. This fool didn’t know my dad at all. He must’ve
been new. I’d never seen him before.
Sloane marched forward, her head held high, and stopped between her father and me. “Alpha Dane is a tyrant. He will be
stopped. We won’t let him continue to terrorize our home.”
The prisoner glanced at Sloane for the first time. His eyes raked up and down her body like he was sizing her up or checking
her out. It made my hackles rise.
Sloane crossed her arms over her chest. “How many other men are here with you?”
The enforcer laughed, but it sounded pained. “Like I’m going to tell you that.”
Sloane’s dad put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle pat before he addressed the enforcer. “We have ways to make
you talk. We’re giving you the easy option first.”
Sloane swallowed and wavered on her feet before standing strong again.
I reached out and touched her elbow, letting my finger trail down her arm until I grasped her hand. “You know this has to be
done. He won’t talk, and your pack needs answers.”
 She swallowed as she met my gaze, her eyes wide.
I clutched her hand tighter, lifting it so I could kiss the back. “Trust in your alpha and me.”
Her lips twitched and spread into a small smile, and she inclined her head, holding her chin high.
My heart swelled. Sloane was so strong and brave.
The enforcer scrunched up his nose and then grinned. “You can torture me all you want. I won’t talk. My loyalties are to
Alpha Dane.”
Sloane’s dad rubbed his chin. “Who said anything about torture? I’m not like your alpha. I’m not cold and callous, and I’m
smart enough to know that if you serve him, you most likely relish pain.”
I frowned. Wait, we weren’t torturing him?
The enforcer snarled and wiggled his arms, making the rungs that he hung from tremble.
The alpha took a step forward, avoiding the prisoner’s swinging legs. “You see, I don’t think we have to do anything to get
you to talk. I think just being here is enough to make you mad.”
My frown deepened. The prisoner grimaced, and a growl echoed through the barn.
Sloane put her hands on her hips, her chin jutting out. “You failed Alpha Dane. Not only were you caught, but you let me best
you. A girl who you grossly underestimated, but he won’t see it that way. I should have been easy pickings. We both know too
well what your alpha does to those he deems weak.”
Oh. That’s their play. Interesting. It just might work.
The enforcer snarled. The chains beat against the wooden beams, sending dust and debris raining down around us.
A few of the men stepped back, but not my Sloane. She stayed right next to her father, standing tall and proud.
Her dad gave her a subtle nod, and she strode forward .
Sloane stopped just out of reach of the guy’s legs. “Not only were you bested, but you allowed yourself to get caught. What
do you think Alpha Dane will do to you when he finds you?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t imagine you want to find out.”
The man lunged, his legs kicking out.
Sloane exhaled, flinching slightly but stood her ground.
My lip curled, and I flexed my hands at my sides. “You’re getting to him, Sloane. Keep going.”
She dropped her hands from her hips to her sides and paced in front of him. “I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”
The enforcer huffed and rolled his eyes as he struggled against his restraints. The muscles in his arms bulged as he tried to
lift himself up.
Sloane walked in front of him, her gaze darting between me and her dad. Her father covered the small smile spreading over
his face with his hand, letting it rest over his mouth and chin.
I beamed and rubbed my hands together. “Keep going. It’s working.”
She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth to suppress a grin before turning back to the guy.
I held my breath, waiting for Sloane to continue. She didn’t, though. She wore a fine line over the wooden floor of the barn.
Her footsteps creaked, creating an odd melody between our prisoner’s grunts and the chains beating against the beams.
My dad always ruled with an iron fist, beating the information out of anyone he caught. However, this method seemed way
more effective. I’d be lying if there wasn’t a certain thrill watching him squirm up there.
The enforcer growled one last time and then went limp. He huffed, his chin dropping to his chest. He kicked his feet lightly
and stared at the floor.
Sloane stopped so she was standing in front of him, crossed her arms over her chest, and tilted her head to the side. “We both
know there’s no place for you back at Pack Wolf Blood. Alpha Dane rewards those who succeed and kills those who don’t.”
The guy glanced up, his lips curling, eyes narrowing to tiny slits. “You couldn’t possibly offer me anything that I’d want.”
Sloane cocked her head farther to the side. “I’m not so sure about that. You don’t want to be a prisoner, and you don’t want to
die, I assume. We need information.”
The guy’s brows crinkled as his face scrunched up. “What is it you want?”
Sloane licked her lips as she looked over her shoulder.
The alpha took a step forward, putting his arm around his daughter before he addressed the enforcer. “Give us the
information we need, and we will set you free. I’ll get you a ticket, a car, anything you need to get you far away from here. But
you have to promise you’ll go and never return.”
The rest of the pack mumbled to themselves. A few of them kicked at the ground, and I wondered if they were okay with this.
No one questioned it, though. What the alpha said was law, whether you agreed with it or not.
That’s why my dad was such a tyrant. No one dared question him.
It was a good deal. Ballsy. Maybe a little reckless, but if it got the information we needed, it might work. The question was,
could he really be trusted to leave? What if he turned around and tried to abduct Sloane again to stay in my father’s good
graces?
The guy opened and shut his mouth a few times before dropping his chin to his chest and letting out a hefty sigh. “How do I
know you won’t kill me anyway?”
I closed the distance between Sloan and me and put my hand on her other shoulder. “Will you kill him?”
She didn’t get a chance to answer. Her dad stepped past her, putting himself directly in front of the man. He was close
enough that the guy could reach out and injure him if he really wanted to.
Sloane’s dad stood quietly for a long moment as he stared at the guy. “I don’t relish in injuring anybody. We both know that
your current alpha is capable of horrible things. I don’t want to imagine what he may have done to you or those you care about
to gain your loyalty.”
The enforcer grunted as his eyes slid shut.
The alpha rolled his shoulders back. “Tell us what we want to know. I’ll give you my word as alpha of the pack that no harm
will come to you so long as you leave and never return. I’m afraid you’ll have to decide whether my word is good enough for
you or not.”
The prisoner gripped his chain, pulling himself up. I moved forward, ready to protect Sloane should he retaliate, only to
remember that nobody could see me or touch me aside from Sloane. I could still push her out of the way if he lunged, though.
The enforcer yanked on his restraints a few times before letting his body go slack again. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
I leaned into Sloane. “You need to find out how many men he has here with him. And where they’re at.”
She reached down and looped her arm through mine. “How many other wolves are here?”
The enforcer looked at Sloane and then back at her father.
Sloane’s dad lifted his brow. “My daughter asked you a question. You’ll answer her the same as you would me.”
The guy’s mouth worked. “There are four of us here. We were each given quadrants to take: east, west, south, and north.”
Sloane tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How long have you been here, and who sent you?”
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. She was a natural. One day, she, Lincoln, and I would rule our pack splendidly.
The enforcer grunted. “We were sent a few days ago. I’m not sure if Alpha Dane even knows we’re here. It was Mikey who
sent us.”
Sloane made a noise in the back of her throat. Her hand flew to her chest, smacking the bare skin just above her breast.
I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close, and she stumbled against me.
A tick formed in her dad’s jaw as he put a hand on his hip. “Mikey? What does he want with my daughter?”
The enforcer licked his lips as his gaze darted everywhere but the alpha. “He sounded deranged. He wanted us to bring her
back to him.”
Sloane curled her fingers into a fist and rubbed it over her heart. “He’s a monster.”
The guy bowed his head. “He is a monster. I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’d be afraid if I were you. The way he went on
about you… Wow. It wasn’t right.”
I hugged Sloane from behind, pulling her protectively against me. My brother would never touch her. I’d make damn sure of
that.
I placed a kiss on her bare shoulder. “He’s not going to hurt you. I won’t let him. He’ll never lay a finger on you ever again.”
Sloane’s dad narrowed his eyes at the enforcer. “If you think he is a monster, why do you serve him and Alpha Dane?”
The guy exhaled, making his nostrils flare. His face fell and he looked down at the ground. “I wasn’t given a choice. It was
serve him or he’d kill me and my brother. I couldn’t let that happen to him. He’s just a kid, barely eighteen.”
Sloane cleared her throat. “Does Alpha Dane have men at your pack still? Is that where your brother is?”
The guy blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “No. My pack was wiped out. There were only about ten of us when he came.
All men.”
His brows dipped into a scowl. “Thank Luna we had no women. He said that if we joined him, he wouldn’t kill the rest of
us. After he took out our alpha, we didn’t see much of a choice. The three other men here are from my pack as well. One of
them is my brother. None of us want any problems. I promise. We just want to survive.”
I rubbed my hands up and down her arms. “There are so many more men like him back home. They’re just too afraid to do
what’s right.”
Sloane let her head fall back against my shoulder. They’re afraid of being executed. Or worse, tortured. I wish we could
find out who they were.
So did I. But I couldn’t risk myself. One conversation with the wrong person and I could lose everything.
She lifted her head and trudged forward, this time speaking out loud to the man. “You’re sure none of them wish to be here?”
The guy exhaled. “None of us want to do Alpha Dane’s or Mikey’s bidding. You have to understand that we just want to
protect ourselves and keep what’s left of our pack.”
The alpha rubbed at his jaw as he watched the enforcer. “I’d like to know more information about what happened with your
pack and who is still there back at Pack Wolf Blood.”
The prisoner closed his eyes, and his whole body went lax. “It’s just the four of us. Alpha Dane slaughtered the other six.”
Sloane’s voice filled my head. Have you ever seen him before?
I narrowed my eyes and took him in for the first time. “No, but my dad has so many men coming in that it’s hard to keep up
with them anymore.”
Sloane shook her head. That’s not great.
“No. I’m going to do a better job. Get out there and meet everybody. Maybe I can find more men like him. It could help us in
the long run. Lincoln and I always knew we’d have to beat our father from the inside out.”
I’d sleep easier knowing I wasn’t the only traitor living under my father’s roof. Trusting someone with my secret could be a
death sentence.
I hope so. Promise you’ll be careful.
The world around me hummed. My father’s voice bellowed in the background.
Shit!
I pressed a kiss to Sloane’s neck. “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I pulled away from Sloane, and I cracked one eye open and then the other. The door of my bedroom rattled, and my father’s
voice hollered from the other side.
I shot up out of my bed and raced toward the door. My heart pounded against my ribs as I twisted the lock and opened it.
My dad glared at me through bloodshot eyes. The smell of liquor wafted off him, strong enough I might get a contact buzz if
that were possible.
I knitted my brows together. “Everything okay?”
I’d only ever seen him drink a handful of times in my entire life. With everything going on, this was terribly out of character.
My stomach twisted, and my pulse spiked. What had happened to make him drink so heavily?
He jabbed a finger into my chest. “Get dressed. A new group of men is coming. I want you to be there to meet them at the end
of the drive.”
I swallowed as I crossed to my dresser. “When are they getting here, and how many?”
I wanted to ask what was wrong again. He smelled like a distillery. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t going to tell me, and
asking again would only make him angrier.
“They’ll be here in about five minutes, and there’s at least fifty of them. They just called me on their way after they heard
about our cause.”
I tugged my shirt over my head as my pulse spiked. “We weren’t expecting them?”
A sickening grin lit my dad’s face. “No. This is quite the pleasant surprise.”
Surprise, yes, but there was nothing pleasant about this. Our numbers were growing too fast, and I was afraid that Sloane and
her pack weren’t growing enough.
The next time we attacked, they would be greatly outnumbered.
 Six

Sloane

I HOBBLED TOWARD THE house with my dad. Sticks and rocks jabbed into the bottoms of my feet, making it hard to walk.
The sun had long since set, and the stars dotting the sky in the moonless night were our only light.
Dad wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, letting him lead
me the rest of the way.
A light rain drizzled down, and lightning crackled in the distance, splitting the sky.
He ran his hand up and down my arm, but it did little to take the chill out of the night air. “You did good tonight, Sloane. I’m
proud of you.”
I popped my head up. “What do you mean?”
He chuckled as he patted my hand. “You took charge back there. You’ve always been strong, but tonight you showed a whole
new side to yourself.”
I pushed the hair out of my face and stared straight ahead. The misty rain splatted across my cheeks, and I squinted, trying to
see through the dense fog rolling in.
I sighed. “I’m just tired of it all, Dad. I want things to go back to normal.”
He stopped walking and turned so that we were facing each other. Both his hands went to my shoulders, and he leaned in and
pressed a kiss to my forehead. “My darling girl, things will never be normal again. Not how they were before…”
The muscles in his throat worked.
I blinked back tears and sniffled. My mind went to Darrin.
Dad cleared his throat and brushed the hair from my face. “We live in a new world now. We need to keep moving forward
and be as strong as we can be. I liked seeing this side of you. We’re going to need it more and more, I think.”
He was right. I had been bold tonight. Something had taken hold of me, and I didn’t know what.
Dad patted my shoulder and then looped his arm through mine as we started walking again. “You know, it’s not unheard of
for mates to amplify characteristics for each other. Sawyer is an alpha and Lincoln a sigma. Both strong, independent men in
their own rights.”
I pursed my lips as I considered that. “Sawyer was there with me tonight. Truth be told, he’s the one who saved me. If he
hadn’t come, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I’d probably be halfway back to Pack Wolf Blood by now.
My dad made a clucking sound. “I don’t think all of that was Sawyer. Some of it was you. It’s always been there, just below
the surface. But I think his influence is what helped it come out tonight.”
“Hmmm, maybe.”
Dad stopped me again and put his hand on my elbow. “Don’t discredit yourself, Sloane. Going to Pack Wolf Blood, standing
up to Alpha Dane to save Willa, going back for Lincoln. That was all you. You’re stronger than you realize. Don’t you forget
that.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t want to argue.
My shoulders slumped as I let out a long breath. “Do you really think we can trust these guys that Mikey sent here?”
Dad went quiet for a long moment. He opened then shut then opened his mouth again. He pulled us back along the path so we
headed toward the house.
“Alpha Dane rules with an iron fist. Some people relish that kind of leadership and thrive in it. But there are others who are
too scared or who have other things involved who won’t do anything even if they’d like to. I’d like to think our new friend falls
into the latter category.”
I grimaced as my foot found a sharp rock. I cursed under my breath and hopped on one foot as I tried not to trip.
 Dad caught me before I could go down and pulled me to his side. “I’ll have your brothers bring your things back up to the
house once the sun rises.”
The bright white porch light shone like a beacon at the front of our house. The glow lit up the entire porch, and the faint smell
of dinner still drifted in the air. I hadn’t even really gotten to enjoy my mom’s spaghetti tonight.
My dad put his hand on the railing as we made our way up the steps. “You did good tonight, Sloane. I want you to keep up
that energy, even if it is hard.”
I jerked my chin up, holding my head high, even though every muscle in my body ached like I’d put myself through the ringer.
“I’ll do my best, Dad.”
He tucked his finger under my chin. “I know you will. You’re so strong. I hope one day you’ll see that and trust in yourself
more.”
He nudged my jaw and then nodded at the house. “I’m sure you’re anxious to return to Lincoln. Let me know if there’s been
any change. I would love to talk to him and thank him for everything he did for you.”
My chest tightened at the mention of Lincoln. Oh my, I’ve been gone for so long. I’d only meant to go for dinner and a quick
run, but it had been hours at this point.
“Night, Daddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I bounded up the rest of the porch steps and threw open the creaky screen door before opening the main door and hurrying
inside.
Upstairs, I shoved my bedroom door open but caught it just before it hit the opposite wall. There lay Lincoln, sleeping in the
same position as when I’d left. He looked peaceful, his face relaxed.
I reached out to him through our bond. There was still a big black void where he should’ve been.
A lump formed in my throat as I closed the door. Movement to my right caught my eye.
Willa sat in my desk chair sound asleep, her head tilted at an angle that would probably make her neck cramp. She had the
chair lying back with her legs propped up on the side of the bed.
I smiled as tears pricked my eyes. She’d stayed in here until I came back.
Willa had become something like a sister but also a best friend, all in a couple of weeks.
I tiptoed toward her and put my hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. “Hey, sweetie. Wake up. I’m back.”
Willa’s face scrunched up, and her lips smacked together as her eyes blinked open. “I’m sorry. I must’ve dozed.”
She peered around me, her eyes widening as she put her hands on her chest. She let out a sigh when she realized Lincoln
hadn’t moved. “I swear I was only sleeping for a second.”
I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay. I was gone way longer than I thought I’d be. It’s well past midnight. You must
be exhausted.”
Willa’s attention snapped to me. “Everything okay?”
I plopped down on the side of the bed and buried my face in my hands. “There was a wolf who attacked me while I was on
my run. He was sent here by Pack Wolf Blood. We caught him, though, and he won’t cause any more trouble. I think
everything’s fine now.”
I still couldn’t believe that Dad had offered him a chance to earn a spot in our pack. He’d extended the offer to the other
three guys too once we found them. It seemed risky. But my dad was right. Sometimes people made bad choices for what they
thought were the right reasons. I hoped that was the case.
Willa yawned and reached her hands up above her head as she stretched. “I’m glad you’re okay. Thank goodness they caught
him. Terrifying he was able to go undetected with all the patrols.”
I hummed my agreement. It was very unnerving and something I would need to bring up to my dad. I’d heard him mention
something to Mark about doubling the patrols, so it was likely already on his mind.
I was too exhausted to think about all that tonight, though.
I covered my mouth as I yawned. “You should get back to your room and get some rest in a real bed. I can’t imagine that
chair is doing anything for your leg or your back.”
Or her neck. She was already massaging the spot right next to her collarbone.
Willa groaned as she let her legs fall to the floor, and then she stood. Her hands went to her back, and she stretched, pushing
her chest forward. “You’re right, I definitely feel it.”
I chuckled and waved her toward the door. “Go get some rest. I have a feeling Jacob will be off duty soon.”
Willa smiled and waved before exiting the room.
I stripped out of my clothes and put on some new, clean pajamas before sliding in next to Lincoln. I’d shower in the morning
because right now, I was beat.
I curled under the blankets and scooted close to Lincoln so my head rested on his chest, then I closed my eyes and reached
out to him through our mate bond. Nothing was there, just a big black void.
Emotion clogged my throat, and I sniffled, fighting back tears. I splayed my hand across his chest and listened to the steady
thrum of his heart.
 Soon, the beat lulled me into darkness, where there was another presence, something cold and dark. A chill zipped down my
spine. I turned in a circle, narrowing my eyes as I searched the never-ending abyss.
My pulse hammered, and my mouth went dry. I reached my hands out, feeling for anything, but my fingers met air, which only
made my muscles tense more.
A scream ripped through the silence, echoing around me like I was in a cavern. I couldn’t breathe as a weight pressed against
my chest.
Lincoln!
I sprinted in the direction of the scream, my arms outstretched as I blinked my eyes rapidly. I still couldn’t see anything.
“No!” Another cry pierced the air.
It was Lincoln. I was sure of it.
The blackness ebbed away, and a set of stairs materialized in front of me. The same stairs that had been in the house Lincoln
and I had been in just a few days ago. I rushed up them, thundered down the hall to the bedroom, and threw the door open with
a gasp.
Mikey hovered over Lincoln on the floor, a syringe in one hand and the other wrapped tightly around his throat. Mikey got in
Lincoln’s face, yelling something unintelligible before he jabbed the needle into Lincoln’s chest.
Lincoln grunted, his hips bucking up as he pounded his arms against the floor. His face contorted, his mouth opening in a
silent cry as his eyes bulged.
Mikey threw his head back and cackled. “You aren’t so tough now, are you, big brother?”
Lincoln writhed, his eyes rolling back until only the whites showed.
Mikey stood and kicked him in the side between his ribs and hips. “Sawyer always was the strong one. I never understood
why he did so much to protect you.”
He dropped again so he crouched in front of him and grasped Lincoln’s hair, yanking his head up. “He’s not here to protect
you now. And neither is that pretty little girl of yours. It’s just the two of us, and I plan to enjoy myself.”
Mikey fisted his hand in Lincoln’s hair, jerking him into a sitting position. He screamed at him so loudly and belligerently
that I had no idea what he was saying.
He shoved Lincoln back to the floor. Lincoln’s head cracked against the wood, hard enough that it bounced.
Mikey wiped his mouth with his arm. His nostrils flared, and his cheeks turned crimson. “You think you’re so smug, don’t
you? You thought you were smarter than me. That you could best me. Ha. Joke’s on you. You’re at the end of the line.”
He wrapped his hand around Lincoln’s throat and began to squeeze. “It’s all over for you now, big brother.”
I shrieked and dove at Mikey. But this wasn’t real. It was all in my head. Or Lincoln’s. I didn’t know which.
My body floated right through Mikey, and I landed hard on the wood on his other side.
I kicked at him and then moved to my knees to punch him, but my feet and fists went straight through him. Tears blurred my
vision and trickled down my cheeks. “No. Stop. Please, please stop.”
Lincoln’s eyes bulged. His fingers twitched, and his body shook like he might be having a seizure. He was too weak to do
anything to defend himself. The wolfsbane coursed through his veins, poisoning him.
I crawled across the floor and peered over him, putting my hands on either side of his face. His eyes were glazed over and
didn’t fixate on me.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Lincoln, please. Please fight for me and Sawyer, please. You have to fight him. Don’t give
up. I’m right here. I’m with you.”
I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened, and dots blotted my vision.
I screamed Lincoln’s name at the top of my lungs as my fingernails dug into his face, trying to get him to see me.
Lincoln blinked, his gaze landing on mine. He mouthed my name. I gasped, and then the room began to ebb away.
I shot my eyes open. The bed shook beneath me, and I was lying in a puddle of water.
I bolted up and twisted. Lincoln thrashed in the sheets. Sweat covered his body, and large droplets dribbled down his
forehead, pooling on the pillow.
His breath became rapid and raspy. He kicked out with his feet, and his fists squeezed the sheets like a lifeline.
I put my hands on his face and gave him a gentle shake. “Lincoln. Lincoln, get up. Wake up.”
The heart monitor to my right went berserk, beeping and growing louder and faster by the second.
Reality dawned on me. I’d be in Lincoln’s mind and in his nightmare because he was dying.
But if he died there, did that mean he would die in real life?
 Seven

Lincoln

MY SNEAKERS SQUEAKED AGAINST the tile as I walked through the brightly lit mall. My heart pounded, and my mouth
went dry. I clenched and unclenched my clammy hands against my thighs.
The shops were empty, all except for one. I knew where I was. When I was.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. My legs grew heavy the closer I drew to the corner. I knew what was waiting for me.
Pain and death.
Gunshots rang out, making me flinch. Screams echoed down the long corridor. Emotions clogged my throat. Part of me
wanted to dig my heels into the floor and not go any farther, but my legs moved of their own volition.
Most people had escaped the mall unscathed.
My mom, sister, and I hadn’t been so lucky. We were in the shop the gunman had been targeting. The police said it was a
jealous ex, and it was a case of the wrong place at the wrong time.
I’d spent too many nights wondering if there was something else I could have done. If I’d been stronger, maybe they would
still be alive.
Then Dad wouldn’t have gone insane. This war would have never started. Sloane wouldn’t have a target on her back, and
Sawyer wouldn’t have to play a double agent.
I swallowed as I rounded the corner, and my chest tightened as I stared at the shop. The glass had fallen in a cascading
waterfall when a wayward bullet had struck it. Many lights had shattered from a couple of bullets that had struck the panels in
the ceiling.
I trembled when I saw my mother cradling me and my sister. Hannah lay splayed out on the ground, limp and motionless. I
clung to my mom like a scared child when I should have been defending her.
I gritted my teeth and mashed my lips together as I watched my nightmare unfold. Tears streamed down my mother’s face.
She rocked Hannah and me like she had when we were babies and murmured softly to us.
She smoothed her hands over Hannah’s face repeatedly. If my mother could have willed her back to life, she would have.
My jaw worked as I stared like an outsider looking in. Blood coated my mom’s shirt. My hand and arm were covered in it
too. My mom’s blood. She was so pale, so white. Her eyes kept drooping shut, but she snapped them back open again.
I was curled against her, crying like a coward. I should’ve done something. Anything.
Footsteps squeaked behind me, and I turned to look over my shoulder. I shuffled backward, my hands fisting against my
thighs. What was he doing here?
Mikey rubbed his hands together as a wide grin split across his face. “Back to where it all started, I see. You really did
screw this one up, didn’t you, big brother? You could’ve saved them both. Instead, look at you wallowing in Mother’s arms
like a tiny, helpless baby.”
I clenched my jaw and exhaled through my nose. “This isn’t real. It’s a memory.”
More like a nightmare.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but all I could feel was an ebbing darkness around me. Nightmares had plagued me for days. I was
stuck in my head, forced to live out the worst moments of my life. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wake.
I pictured Sawyer and Sloane. At times, I thought I could hear them, but they sounded so far away, a million miles, while I
was here alone.
Mikey shoved me, making me stumble backwards.
My eyes narrowed.
Mikey put his hands on his hips. “Nobody is going to save you. Not Sawyer. Not Sloane. And definitely not Father.”
He shrugged as he looked behind me. “Mom can’t either. You let her die. Every awful thing that has happened is because of
what you did in this moment.”
I lifted my fists in front of my face and moved into a fighting stance. “Get out of here, Mikey. Leave me alone.”
It was bad enough that I had to relive the worst moments of my life. I didn’t need my jerk brother rubbing my nose in it, too.
Mikey mirrored my movements and cocked his head back and forth as he waggled his brows. “Do you think you can take me?
The last time we fought it out, it didn’t go so well for you.”
I bared my teeth. “Because you cheated.”
“There is no such thing as cheating in a fistfight, Lincoln. You’re just sad that you weren’t smart enough to think to use
wolfsbane.”
I planted my feet and snarled. The wolfsbane had been my undoing. “And you know that you can’t win in a fair fight. But
don’t worry. I won’t make the mistake of thinking you’ll fight fair again.”
Mikey cackled. “You’re right. You won’t make that mistake again because you won’t have another chance to. Today is the
day you die, big brother.”
Mikey lunged and tackled me to the ground like we were playing a game of football. He landed so that he straddled me and
immediately started delivering blows to my face.
I drew my arms up just in time to protect myself. His punches were relentless, hitting me hard enough that my arms ached.
He growled. “Fight back, Lincoln. Or are you too big of a coward?”
Mikey threw another punch and then a few more. I caught his next jab and jerked it to the side. I bucked my hips up, throwing
him off me and rolling with my momentum so that I hovered over him.
I balled my fist and hit him square in the nose. Blood gushed out, and he scrunched up his face as he cried out in pain.
Then he snarled. Red coated his teeth as he bared them at me.
I growled and balled my fist, but before I could punch him again, the blackness returned and swallowed me whole.
The abyss didn’t last long. Blinding white light surrounded me. I grunted, shielding my eyes with my arm. Buzzing filled my
ears and then stopped. I blinked.
We weren’t in the mall anymore. I lay on my back with Mikey over me. We were in the house, the one that Sloane and I had
been in just a few days ago.
Mikey had a syringe in his hand. I reached out to stop him, but I wasn’t fast enough. He plunged it into my chest, injecting the
cool liquid into me. But then the wolfsbane began to scorch as it entered my body and coursed through my veins. I was on fire,
burning from the inside out.
My vision blurred. My limbs went numb and leaden. My arms flopped to the ground with a thump. I willed them to move so I
could protect myself, but they wouldn’t budge.
The world bounced around me, or maybe I was shaking too hard. I couldn’t be sure. Pain exploded in my side, and my vision
darkened.
Sloane’s voice filled my head. She sounded muffled, far away. Worse, I could hear the emotion in her voice.
I cracked my eyes open to see her leaning over me, her soft hands cradling my face. Tears streamed down her rosy cheeks,
and she was saying something that sounded like my name, like she was calling for me, calling me back to her.
“Sloane.” I mumbled her name over and over again, searching for her like she was a lifeline.
She might as well have been. I needed her. Her and Sawyer both.
Pressure slammed against my neck so I couldn’t breathe, so I couldn’t swallow. My arms refused to budge. They weighed a
million pounds.
Mikey appeared and grabbed my hair, seemingly reaching straight through Sloane, like she was a projection and not really
here. He got in my face, blocking her from my view.
“She can’t help you now. No one can. You are mine, and I’m going to make you pay for what you did.”
The pressure on my throat loosened, but there was still a tightness in my chest making it so I could only wheeze in and out. I
darted my gaze around, looking for Sloane.
She was gone.
Maybe she had never been here. I could’ve imagined her.
Mikey punched me in the gut. The air whooshed out of my lungs, and I wheezed, trying to draw in a breath. “You had it all,
you know. Father looked up to you. He trusted you. You and Sawyer both.”
I tipped my head back and laughed. “Father never trusted me or looked up to me. He made it quite clear that I was a failure
in his eyes.”
Mikey smacked me in the face. “I’m not talking about now. I mean before…”
I groaned as I tried to fill my lungs with air. They protested, aching with each move I made. Then his words hit me.
Understanding washed over me. Dad had been a different man before Mom and Hannah passed.
“That’s right, you let Mom and Hannah die. Father thought you were perfect until then. Then he saw the truth. You were
pathetic and weak. You failed them. Just like you’re going to fail Sloane and Sawyer. I know what he is up to, you know.”
Emotion clogged my throat. He was right. I should have done more to help my mother and sister. Father always thought that
and had mentioned it multiple times. It was why he hated me.
Wait! He knows what Sawyer is up to?
This isn’t real.
What if I’d been recaptured? What if this was some form of torture? I could be floating in between consciousness. I could
betray my brother by accident and give Mikey the ammunition he needed to take us both out.
Mikey gave me a shake. “You couldn’t save them, and you aren’t going to be here to save your little girlfriend, either.”
He crouched next to me. “Sloane will be mine. I might keep you alive. Just long enough so that you have to watch me with
her.”
I ground my teeth for a moment and then spit at him. A bloody glob hit him in the face. “You’ll never touch her.”
I won’t fail you, Sloane. I promise.
The room blurred, and everything shook. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I reopened them, we weren’t here anymore.
I was someplace else where flames licked around the walls. Heat surrounded me like an inferno, making sweat bead on my
brow. I lay in a bed unable to move. My limbs rested limply against the mattress, too weak to move.
Sloane cried out. She was calling for me, shouting for me to help her.
Mikey leaned in front of me. “Sloane is mine now. And there’s nothing you can do to help her. You failed her just like you
did Mom and Hannah. And just like you will Sawyer. Once Dad finds out, he’ll kill him.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’ll kill you.”
Mikey threw his head back and laughed like I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “You couldn’t save Mom. You couldn’t
save Hannah. There’s no chance to save Sloane. And I’m going to go after Sawyer too. You failed them all. Their blood is on
your hands.”
Sloane’s screams filled the air. I had to get to her before it was too late. The flames were closing in. It grew hotter in here,
bathing me in a pool of sweat.
I twisted and tried to move my legs to get them underneath me, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get up from the bed.
Mikey laughed in the background, and Sloane shrieked louder. Maybe he was right. Maybe I couldn’t save them at all.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try, though. I pictured Sloane and Sawyer. They weren’t Mom and Hannah.
Both of them were still alive. They had to be. This wasn’t real. It was all in my head. I had to get back to them.
I opened my eyes. The flames practically danced right on top of me now. The blankets had caught fire, and the inferno
crawled its way across the lavender comforter toward me.
Move. Fight. Dammit, do something.
My body refused to move, though.
I bellowed as the flames covered me and then consumed me.
 Eight

Sloane

WHAT IF THIS WAS it? What if…

I didn’t dare finish the thought. Lincoln was going to be fine. He had to be.
Pull yourself together, Sloane!
I pushed to my knees, put my hands on Lincoln’s shoulders, and shook him. “Lincoln, you have to wake up. Snap out of it.”
I put my palm on his sweaty cheek, feeling him burning up.
Oh no. Infection must’ve set in.
His body convulsed like he was having a seizure. I needed my mom. She’d know what to do.
I shoved the tangled blankets off me and leaped out of the bed, sprinting for the door. I yanked it open so fast that it hit the
wall, probably leaving a hole. I darted down the hallway, my chest tightening and lungs burning.
The hallway stretched endlessly. I pumped my arms at my sides, but what should have taken seconds seemed to take minutes.
I didn’t bother to knock on my parents’ door before storming in. “Mom, Mom, wake up. It’s Lincoln. Something’s wrong.”
Both my parents shot up from their sleep. Mom’s eyes widened, and then she climbed out of bed with Dad right behind her.
My mom grabbed her robe and threw it on. “What’s going on, Sloane?”
Tears streamed down my face, making it impossible for me to see through the blurry haze. I opened my mouth, trying to
speak, but I couldn’t. The lump in my throat made it so only a croak came out.
I waved at them and twisted on my heel before sprinting back to my room. Both of them followed right on my heels. I stepped
into the room and then pressed my back against the wall so they could see for themselves.
Lincoln trembled violently on the bed, thrashing so hard he’d ripped the IV from his arm. The covers were a tangled mess
around his hips and halfway on the floor. A wet spot the shape of his body where he lay had soaked through the sheet.
Mom brushed past me and went straight to him.
I leaned against the wall and pressed my hands to my chest as I cried. He convulsed so hard that his body bucked up off the
bed. Blood trickled out of his mouth from where he’d either bitten his tongue or his cheek.
Or worse, maybe he was bleeding internally.
I put a fisted hand to my mouth to keep from crying out.
Dad wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. I rested my head on his shoulder as I sobbed, and he made a hushing
sound and rubbed his hand up and down my arm.
Mom tore the sheets and comforter off Lincoln and went to the bathroom. A moment later, she came back with some wet
towels. She started laying them over Lincoln’s body and turned to me.
“Sloane, I need you to go downstairs. Listen to me. I need you to get the following items and medicine.”
My ears buzzed as I tried to pay attention to her. Lincoln’s life depended on me pulling myself together.
I sucked in a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes with my thumbs as she rattled off the drugs and supplies she
needed.
She turned back to Lincoln, dabbing the wet towel at his forehead. “Hurry, Sloane. We need to calm his heart rate and bring
this fever down.”
I gulped and pulled out of my dad’s embrace as Mom started ordering him around next.
My footfalls thundering, I bolted for the stairs. I hit the bottom step, and my foot skidded across the hardwood. I almost fell
but managed to catch myself on the banister, rolling my ankle in the process.
I cursed under my breath and caught my balance. I flew down the hallway and ran into the infirmary door because I didn’t
open it fast enough.
My hands shook, and I couldn’t catch my breaths as I dug out the medicine my mother had asked for. I gathered everything I
needed and then hurried back upstairs.
Mom and Dad had finished laying the cool towels over Lincoln’s body, but the spasms hadn’t stopped.
Lincoln’s face twisted, and he clenched his jaw like he was in pain.
I hurried to the bed. “I have everything you asked for.”
My arms trembled so badly I was afraid I’d drop something. I dumped the items on the bed where she could reach them and
then got out of her way.
I covered my mouth as my mom injected something into his IV and then something else right into the vein in his arm.
The seizure stopped after a few seconds, and Lincoln’s body went lax. His face softened, and his breathing evened out.
I walked on wobbly legs back to the bed and sat down on the opposite side as my mom as she continued working on him. I
picked up Lincoln’s hand and squeezed it.
Mom sighed as she backed away from him and swiped the back of her arm across her forehead. “He’s stable for now.”
I cleared my throat as I clasped Lincoln’s hand harder. “What happened?”
Mom looked at the IV bag and adjusted it so it drained faster. “He spiked a fever. I gave him some Tylenol to help bring it
down and also some more medicine to help him relax.”
I mashed my lips together and swallowed as I gathered up the courage to ask her what I needed to know. “Is he going to be
okay?”
My mom and dad shared a look. I held my breath.
My mom exhaled as she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure, Sloane. The fever could be a good or a bad
thing. He’s either fighting the infection, hence the fever, or there is something else going on that we don’t know about.”
I nodded and prayed it was a good thing. He might be waking up soon if that were the case. My belly did a little flip-flop at
the thought.
I flexed my fingers. “If it’s a bad thing, what then?”
An icy chill zipped down my spine, making me shiver.
My mom shifted on her feet before closing the distance and coming to sit next to me. She took my free hand in hers and lifted
it into her lap. “He could get worse. It could be a sign that his body is shutting down. He’s been stable this entire time, though,
so I’d like to think that this is progress, and his body is fighting off everything.”
She offered me a kind smile as she squeezed my hand. “There isn’t much else I can do for him. We should know soon
whether he’s out of the woods or whether he’s worsening.”
I bit my trembling lip. “Thank you for helping him.”
Dad came over and knelt in front of me. “You don’t have to thank us for helping him. He’s important to you, Sloane, so he’s
important to us too. And he saved your life. We’ll be forever grateful to him for that.”
I sucked in a painful breath as I clutched my mom’s hand. “I can’t lose him.”
Mom pulled me into a hug, and Dad enveloped us both.
Mom made a shushing noise as she ran her fingers through my hair. “You are strong, my love. Regardless of what happens,
we will all get through this together. I’m going to do everything I can for him, I promise.”
I closed my eyes and relaxed into my parents’ strong, warm arms. They would both do everything they could for Lincoln. I
knew that.
We sat huddled together for I couldn’t even tell how long.
Dad pulled away first, took Mom’s hand, and helped her up from the bed. “We should all try to get some sleep now. It’s
getting late, and tomorrow’s going to be another busy day. It’s important now more than ever that we all get as much rest as we
can so we stay sharp.”
I nodded. Every muscle I had ached like I’d spent too many hours in the gym. My eyelids were heavy too, but I didn’t think
sleep would come.
My mom cupped my face with her palm. “I’ll bring up some ibuprofen that you can give him in a few hours. Until the fever
breaks, we should try to keep his body temperature as low as we can keep it so he doesn’t have any more seizures.”
I bit my lip and turned to Lincoln. He looked so fragile beneath the cold, wet towels and not like the strong man he’d been
when we first met. He’d saved my life a few days ago thanks to his brute strength.
I bit my lip. “Is there anything else I can do for him?”
What if he was in pain? Or cold? Or too hot? I hated not being able to reach him.
My mom gave my face a gentle pat before she removed her hand. “Just keep an eye on him and make sure his fever doesn’t
get too high again. I’ll be right back up with the supplies you’ll need.”
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “Stay strong, Sloane. Everything is going to be okay.”
My heart swelled, and I swallowed hard. I wanted to believe him.
My parents walked out of the room together, closing the door softly. The floorboards in the hallway creaked as they made
their way to the stairs.
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. No wonder I was cold. I was practically sopping wet from lying next to
Lincoln.
I got up and rocked up onto the tips of my toes, stretching, wincing when the action pulled at my tight muscles. I grimaced and
rolled my shoulders back before making my way to the bathroom. Only a shower could help soothe my aches and worries.
In case Lincoln needed me, I left the bathroom door open and then reached into the shower to turn the water as hot as I dared.
In the mirror’s reflection, my hair looked a mess. Tangles snarled my long, limp locks like I hadn’t washed it in days. Bags
hung under my eyes, and my skin had paled.
I sighed as I picked up my brush and dragged it through the rat’s nest on my head. My mom and dad were right. I needed to
start taking better care of myself. I wouldn’t do Lincoln, Sawyer, or the pack any good if I was sick or too weak to defend us.
I blew out my breath and stripped out of my clothes before stepping under the hot stream. The water eased the tension in my
muscles, and I stood under the spray with my eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the feel of it pelting against my skin.
As soon as I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel, the air around me buzzed, and gooseflesh pimpled my skin as the
familiar tingling shot through me.
Sawyer materialized a few feet in front of me, his brows pinched together and worry lines framing his eyes. “Sloane, is
everything okay?”
I clutched my panties to my chest, my heart kicking up a notch. I was buck naked.
When he saw me, his eyes widened and raked over me, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
He closed the distance between us and cupped my face, rubbing his thumb under my eye. “You’ve been crying. What’s
wrong?”
My bottom lip trembled, and tears pricked my eyes again. “It’s Lincoln. He had a seizure, and his fever spiked.”
I fell into his arms, and he wrapped me in his warm embrace. I inhaled his earthy pine scent as I buried my nose in the crook
of his neck.
“He’s stable for now, but my mom doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing yet. I’m afraid we have to wait it out.”
Sawyer held me close, knocking the towel loose, and chuckled. “Sorry.”
I yanked the towel off and tossed it at the hamper. A few rivulets of water dribbled down my back. “It’s okay.”
Sawyer cupped the back of my head. “Lincoln is strong. We have to believe that he’s going to be okay.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. Just being in Sawyer’s strong, safe grip helped relieve the tension between my shoulder
blades. “I know. It’s so scary. You didn’t see him.”
Sawyer rubbed his hand up and down my back. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here for you. It was my dad.”
Sawyer pulled back and put both his hands on my cheeks so I had to look up at him. “Sloane, about fifty more men came to
our pack tonight. They came of their own volition just because they heard about what my dad was doing. I don’t know how
many more others like them there are.”
I frowned as I stared at Sawyer’s horrified expression. “They came willingly? Without coercion?”
Sawyer briefly closed his eyes and nodded. “They called my dad up when they were on their way. I’m not even sure where
they’re from. I just know that he asked me to go greet them. I’d have been here sooner if I could have. I felt your distress and
your fear and worry. I wanted to come.”
I put my hands on his shoulders and leaned my forehead against his. “You have to keep yourself safe, Sawyer. I know why
you couldn’t come. My mom and dad were here.”
Sawyer’s shoulders sagged. “I feel like I let you down.”
I tilted forward and captured his lips, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to them. “You’re not letting us down. You’re protecting us
the best way you can. We all have our parts to play, and now we need to see them through.”
Sawyer cleared his throat and took a step back. “I just wish this was all over now.”
I wrapped myself in a hug, hoping it would help the chill now that I wasn’t touching him. “Me too. I don’t think it’s going to
be over for a while yet.”
That was the thing that scared me the most. This war was just beginning. The packs here stood to lose everything, and we
could never back down. Alpha Dane would never negotiate.
The only option we had was to fight. I wasn’t going to give up. Alpha Dane was a monster, and he needed to be stopped.
Sawyer scrubbed a hand over his face, and his eyes glazed over as he once again took in my naked state.
Heat pulled low in my belly, and I shifted on my feet. Sawyer’s nostrils flared, and he sucked in a deep breath before he
closed the distance between us.
His lips crushed against mine, and his hands went to my hips and then lifted me on top of the counter.
I fumbled with his jeans, flicking the fly open and then shoving them down.
Sawyer pulled away from me, making our lips pop. He yanked his shirt off and kicked his jeans and boxers off before he
caught my mouth again.
I reached between us, grasping his cock and pumping it lightly before guiding him toward my entrance. He pushed in with
one hard thrust, making us both moan.
I locked my legs around his back, pulling him deeper as I arched my hips. He thrust against me hard and fast. Our bodies
slapped together, the sound growing louder with each thrust.
He reached between us, going for my nipple. He rolled it into a tight bud, using his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it every
couple of seconds.
Our mouths melted together, our tongues clashing with each other. I trailed my arms up and down his back. His skin was
smooth and the heat of it against me was driving me crazy. I needed more of him.
His other arm went to my butt, and he pulled me a little closer, tilting me so he was hitting me at an entirely new angle.
Sawyer pumped into me faster, grunting louder with each one. I was already teetering on the edge, so close to an orgasm, and
I could tell he was too by the taut muscles in his back as I ran my fingers up and down it.
He slammed into me a few more times, and then we both fell over the edge together, crying out as our orgasms raced through
us. Sawyer didn’t stop kissing me, didn’t stop moving inside me. His kisses became softer, more loving.
His strokes slowed as his cock softened inside of me until he stopped, keeping himself buried deep within me.
He gave me one last kiss before pulling away from me, breathless. I whimpered, missing his warmth.
Sawyer cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”
I let my legs go limp against the counter, kicking them lightly. “You didn’t take advantage of me. I think we both needed that.”
I put a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath.
Sawyer rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, maybe. I think you’re right.”
I hopped off the counter and put my hand on his biceps. “Hey. I’m here for you. Any time you need me.”
Sawyer blinked and shoved a hand through his hair.
I pulled away from him and grabbed my clothes. “We should check on Lincoln.”
We dressed silently, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Sawyer was still upset at himself. I reached out and took his hand,
pulling him gently toward the bedroom.
We’d just stepped onto the carpet when Lincoln’s eyes flew open with a gasp.
 Nine

Sloane

LINCOLN COUGHED AND DREW in a raspy breath. His eyes widened as his gaze darted around the room, and he fisted the
wet towels and covers tightly, making his knuckles turn white.
Sawyer and I raced toward him, Sawyer to the side of the bed, and I crawled across the mattress.
Lincoln looked at Sawyer and then at me. His eyes were wide and his breathing came in quick pants like he was confused.
I grasped his hand. “Are you okay? Can you hear us? Are you really awake?”
I held my breath. My pulse roared in my ears, and I leaned forward, afraid I wouldn’t hear his answer over the noise.
Lincoln blinked. His jaw worked, but he didn’t say anything as he looked between me and Sawyer again.
Sawyer sat on the bed and put his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “Lincoln, are you here with us?”
Lincoln closed his eyes and gave his head a gentle shake before re-opening them. “Where am I?”
The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of my lungs, and I fell forward, burying my face in his chest. I laughed out loud as
happy tears pricked my eyes.
Lincoln reached out and squeezed my hand, reminding me that I hadn’t actually answered him.
I sniffled as I sat up, pulling his hand over my thighs and resting it in my lap. “You’re safe. We both are. You’re back at my
house with my pack.”
Lincoln’s brows dipped into a frown. “How long have we been here? I don’t remember…”
His eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
I put my other hand on top of his. “It’s been a couple of days. You’ve been unconscious. What’s the last thing that you
remember?”
Lincoln cleared his throat as he tried to sit up. I scooted back as Sawyer helped him get comfortable against the pillows and
headboard.
Lincoln coughed and then cleared his throat again. “We were at the house, and Mikey was there. There was a fight. I
remember falling.”
I stared at a piece of fuzz on the comforter. I could see the fight and fall vividly in my mind. The image was something that
would haunt me the rest of my life. “You and Mikey went through a window when you were fighting. We were on the second
floor. Sawyer and I were both so afraid that we might’ve lost you.”
Lincoln cracked a small smile and looked down at himself. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
I giggled, and a few more happy tears trickled down my cheeks. I reached up and brushed them away. “You gave us both
quite a scare. I’m so glad that you’re awake.”
It had to be a good sign he was awake and coherent, but he had taken a nasty fall. My mom should come and give him a
thorough once-over just to make sure.
I shuffled backward across the bed. “I should go get my mom so she can check you over.”
Lincoln grimaced and closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the headboard. “I do feel like I’ve been through the
ringer.”
Sawyer gave Lincoln’s shoulder a squeeze. “Because you have. The amount of wolfsbane that Mikey injected you with was
enough to kill you. From the way he boasts, it was enough to take down an elephant.”
Lincoln sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t like that stuff.”
He dropped his hand back to his lap and then turned his attention to me. “Wait, you said both of us. You weren’t talking about
Sawyer?”
Lincoln squinted at Sawyer. “You aren’t really here, are you?”
Sawyer dropped his chin to his chest. “No, I’m sorry I’m not.”
 Lincoln reached up and grasped his brother’s wrist. “Sawyer, you can’t stay there much longer. It’s not safe. If Dad finds out
that you betrayed him, your punishment will be far worse than mine.”
A shiver zipped down my spine, and I wrapped my arms around myself. What Lincoln said was true. Sawyer was Alpha
Dane’s next in line. That would be the ultimate betrayal. I didn’t want to think what punishment he would deliver if he caught
Sawyer.
Sawyer stood and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I know what I’m doing, Lincoln. It’s going to be okay. Dad won’t catch
me, I promise.”
Lincoln’s brows knitted together, and I put a hand over my chest as I shared a worried look with him. Sawyer was good, but
how long could he go undetected?
Sawyer took a few steps back. “I do have to get going, though. The sun will be coming up soon, and I need to get up early.
I’ll be back later tonight, though, as soon as I can to check up on both of you.”
Sawyer exhaled loudly as he looked at his brother. “I’m really glad to see that you’re awake.”
I hurried around to the other side of the bed and pulled Sawyer into a hug with my mouth to his ear. “Please be safe.”
Sawyer pulled away and gave me a small smile as he reached up and swiped his thumb underneath my eye again. “I’ll see
you soon. I promise.”
Sawyer took a step back, and then he disappeared.
I let my hands fall to my sides and bit my quivering lip.
Lincoln coughed, and I turned back to him. He shifted on the bed like he couldn’t get comfortable. His eyes were hooded,
and he kept blinking like he was fighting to stay awake.
I walked backwards toward the door. “I’m going to go get my mom so she can look over you. I promise I’ll be right back.”
I rushed into the hall and towards my parents’ room for the second time tonight. Instead of bursting in, this time I knocked.
Footsteps creaked across the floor inside, and the door clicked before it opened. My dad peeked his head out, squinting as he
looked at me.
His eyes widened. “Sloane? What’s wrong?”
I clasped my hands in front of me but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “It’s Lincoln. He’s awake. I was
hoping Mom could come look after him and make sure he’s really okay.”
My mom called something from inside the bedroom, and she hurried on tiptoes across the room. My dad opened the door as
she was pulling her robe on and cinching it around her waist.
She brushed past my father, giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
Mom followed me into the hallway and jammed her hands into her pockets while we walked back to my room. “Is he
talking? Does he seem coherent?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Good. I’ve seen it happen before where a patient has a high fever and then wakes up fine. I’m hoping that’s the case.”
Me too.
I opened my bedroom door. Lincoln had rolled the wet towels off him and set them in a pile by his feet. The sheets only went
to his waist, allowing us to see his torso. Bruises and cuts marred the skin, painting it a disgusting blackish blue.
Mom let out a long breath. “Thank goodness you are awake and moving.”
My mom hurried over to the side of the bed where all the equipment was and checked the monitors and his vitals before
turning to him. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. I need you to answer them to the best of your ability.”
Lincoln pushed up so he was sitting even taller. “Okay.”
My mom crossed her arms over her chest as she addressed Lincoln. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Lincoln.”
Mom inclined her head. “Good. Can you tell me the last thing that you remember?”
Lincoln looked at me before scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sloane and I were in a house. I think it belonged to your
family.”
He frowned and held my gaze. I nodded, and he licked his lips.
“My brother showed up, and there was a fight. I remember falling, but the rest is kind of foggy after that. And in between.”
My mom reached out and put the back of her hand against Lincoln’s forehead. “You had a lot of trauma. A little fuzziness
isn’t anything to be too worried about. Given what happened, the entire fight may never fully come back to you.”
She moved her hand to his cheek and then the other one. “The fever seems to have broken. It could just be temporary because
of the high dose of medicine I gave you. We will want to monitor it for the next twenty-four hours. I might keep you on some
meds anyway, to be safe.”
Lincoln grimaced as he shifted on the bed again. “I do still feel like I’ve been thrown out a window.”
My mom gave me a look and then turned back to Lincoln. “That’s not completely unreasonable. I’m told you did in fact fall
from a second-story window. I do think that if you are feeling up to it, you should go outside right now and shift.”
I skimmed my foot over the carpet. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if he’s too weak?”
 I didn’t like questioning my mom, but typically, she had those who had been severely injured wait until they were more
stable. Shifting put a lot of stress on the body. Lincoln was still in rough shape and weak.
My mom pursed her lips. “We don’t know the true extent of his injuries. If this is just a lull in the fever, I’d feel better having
him shift to heal some of the internal and external wounds now so at least we know we’re not combating that.”
She hesitated, putting her hand to her mouth as she frowned. “Do you think you can handle shifting?”
Lincoln held his hands up and looked at them. “I think so.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, scooting closer to Lincoln. “I can help you outside.”
Mom reached out and pressed the back of her hand against Lincoln’s forehead and cheeks one last time. “I’d like you to shift,
and then I’d like to have another look at you. You should also get something to eat if you think your stomach can handle it. Start
small.”
Mom turned to me. “Let me go get one of your brothers to help. I’m not sure he’ll be able to walk down the stairs safely by
himself.”
When she left, I moved closer to Lincoln so I could rest my head on his shoulder. “I hope shifting makes you feel a lot
better.”
Lincoln put his head on top of mine. “Me too.”
The door creaked open again, and my mom came in first, followed by Mark.
My mom pointed at Lincoln as she gave my brother a nudge. “I don’t want you going too far. He’s going to be weak, and
shifting will take a lot out of him. He just can’t do it in the house. We all know how horribly that’s gone in the past.”
Mark and I both snorted. I covered my mouth, trying to contain my laugh, but it didn’t work.
Lincoln looked up at me. “I feel like I’ve missed something.”
Mark moved closer to him and ducked down, lifting Lincoln’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on. It’ll be a good story to tell
you on our way outside.”
I took Lincoln’s other arm and put it over my shoulder. Mark lifted, and I pushed him up until all three of us stood.
Lincoln swayed and closed his eyes as he gritted his teeth, but Mark and I continued to support him.
My mom opened the door for us. “How do you feel now that you’re on your feet? Do you think you’ll pass out? Do you need
to lie back down?”
Lincoln blew out a small, shallow breath before opening his eyes. “A little dizzy, but it’s starting to pass.”
My mom scrunched up her nose and mashed her lips together. “Take it nice and easy. The last thing we need is for him to
pass out and take all three of you down, especially on the stairs. Be careful.”
Lincoln pushed one foot forward, and we all took a step. “I think I’m ready to start walking now. Maybe you could tell me
that story as we’re moving.”
We took small mini steps across the carpet. Mark turned so he and Lincoln went out the door first, and I followed behind.
I reached up with my free arm and curled my fingers around Lincoln’s as we started toward the stairs. “Brandon’s first shift
was a disaster.”
Mark chuckled.
I shared a look with my brother on the other side of Lincoln.
Mark grinned and nodded. “Brandon was the boy who cried wolf. Literally. Once he turned thirteen, he would tell Mom and
Dad he thought he was going to shift at least three to four times a day. Then he started waking them up a few times in the middle
of the night, every stinking night as well.”
Lincoln chuckled. “How long did this go on?”
Mark huffed out a laugh. “Months. Mom and Dad were at their wit’s end. No one was getting any sleep.”
Lincoln wobbled as we took the first step down. Mark and I stopped, letting him get his balance before we moved to the next
one.
I grabbed his hand harder as we continued. “It got so bad that he was waking them up in the middle of the night to take him
outside to shift. They started taking turns. It got to the point where people stopped believing him when he said that it was time
to change.”
I shifted Lincoln’s weight when we got to the bottom step. “Every Friday night is movie night. We were watching Shrek, and
he just started transitioning right in the middle of the couch.”
Lincoln shook his head. “Oh no.”
Mark laughed. “Erica was a toddler and sitting right next to him, so Mom and Dad were more worried about getting her out
of the way than getting him outside.”
I giggled. “He shifted on the couch, shredding the whole thing. Then he freaked out and ran like a maniac around the front
room.”
Mark reached for the front door, shifting Lincoln slightly as he opened it. “I’m not sure who opened the front door and let him
out, but by the time he finally ran outside, both couches were done for. The TV was destroyed, and he’d clawed the hell out of
the carpet.”
 I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Mom and Dad had just put in new carpeting, too. They ended up redoing the whole living
room because of it.”
Lincoln huffed, his breaths shallowing and becoming raspy as we made our way across the porch. “That sounds horrible.”
I gave his hand a squeeze. We were almost there. “We try to make light of it now. I mean, what else are you supposed to do,
right?”
Lincoln trembled as we took the last few stairs down to the driveway. I held him tighter, not daring to breathe, and worried
that he might fall.
We reached the bottom step and then moved into the grass.
Lincoln gulped in a large breath. “That’s good that you can make fun of it now.”
I smiled as my mom’s words rang in my head. “Sometimes bad things happen. It’s how you make the best of it that makes it
all work out.”
Mark made a noise in the back of his throat. “God, you sound just like Mom.”
I peered around Lincoln. “Is that so bad?”
Lincoln winced as his knee gave out. I gripped him tighter, and between Mark and me, we eased him onto the ground so he
wouldn’t fall.
Lincoln pushed to his hands and knees. I put a hand on his back, but Mark yanked me away.
I glared at my brother.
Mark pointed at Lincoln as a crack rippled through the air. “You don’t know if he’ll be able to control himself. Stay back.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line and chewed on my thumb as I watched. Lincoln trembled. Sweat beaded over his body.
His back was misaligned, the shift having already started, but for the moment, it looked like he was stuck.
I held my breath, my cheeks puffed out as my heart hammered.
Another bone snapped. Lincoln pitched forward while his arm started to change. A guttural sob ripped from his throat as his
left arm and leg broke.
Tears pricked my eyes. He panted, and a pained moan escaped his lips.
Mark held me tight. I gripped his arm, glad that he was here. Every grunt and cry of pain was like a knife to my heart.
The rest of his bones crackled and began to realign until he had fully shifted, then Lincoln fell over on his side. His legs
kicked out, and he rolled, getting to his feet. Then he darted off.
“Lincoln!” I shouted after him.
But he didn’t stop running.
 Ten

Sloane

I BLINKED A FEW times, watching as Lincoln disappeared into the trees. He wasn’t stopping or turning around. He just kept
running.
Heat spread over my chest as it tightened. I screamed Lincoln’s name again, but he didn’t respond. Oh no. What was he
doing? Where was he going? He didn’t know these lands. There were drop offs ahead that could sneak up on you. What if he
fell over one? I had to get to him.
I ripped my tank top off and then kicked my pants off at the same time I sent my shoes flying across the lawn. I jumped
forward, transitioning midair into my wolf.
The second my feet hit the ground, I took off as fast as I could. My paws pounded against the earth in time to the frantic
staccato of my pulse.
I inhaled, catching Lincoln’s scent, and charged after him. I reached out to him through our link, calling his name repeatedly.
The longer he went with no answer, the more concerned I became. He’d been unwell for so long. What if he’d gone mad? I’d
heard stories of it happening. Usually, it happened in youngsters who had their first shift. They took off and didn’t stop until
they were too exhausted to continue.
Oh god, but Lincoln had been at death’s door not that long ago. What if this pushed him over the edge?
No! I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I pushed myself faster, sprinting harder until my lungs and legs burned.
The trail led me right to the lake, where the water rippled from the small current. Down by the shore sat Lincoln’s wolf,
staring out at the crystal-blue water. I slowed to a trot and came up to him slowly.
Lincoln?
The wolf turned to me and blinked, and then his eyes narrowed as his ears twitched. His gaze darted around before turning
back to me.
Sloane, I didn’t realize I’d run so far. I’m sorry.
I closed the distance and nuzzled his neck. It’s okay. I was just so worried when you took off. How are you feeling?
Lincoln snorted as he stuck his hind end up in the air and stretched his front. He shook out and then met my gaze. A little sore
still, but so much better.
I let out a breath. We should get you back. You shouldn’t be out too long.
Lincoln ducked his head down. Do you mind leading the way?
Of course, but let’s take it slow. Stay with me?
Lincoln chuffed. Always.
Lincoln and I set a slow, steady trot back through the trees. In retrospect, Lincoln hadn’t gone as far as I thought, maybe half a
mile. It had just seemed like miles because he’d darted off like a bat out of hell.
We made it to the front of the house in no time. Mark came out of the house with a fresh pair of clothes for Lincoln, set them
on the edge of the steps, and gave me a curt nod before disappearing back inside.
Lincoln and I shifted and dressed quickly.
The change back seemed to take a lot out of him. He was sweating again, and he looked shaky. He kept flexing his hand, but
it didn’t hide the tremble in his fingers.
I handed him the boxers and sweatpants first. “Are you still doing okay?”
Lincoln stepped into the boxers first and pulled them up. “I’m actually pretty hungry. Do you think we could find something to
eat?”
I nodded as my mind raced. It was early still. Mom wouldn’t have made breakfast yet, but I would find him something. “You
haven’t eaten anything in days. Come on. Finish getting dressed, and we’ll get you something to eat. There’s always something
good here.”
“Home-cooked?” His eyes widened, and he licked his lips.
I laughed. “Of course. My mom wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Lincoln gave me a tight-lipped smile as he took the shirt from me and pulled it over his head. “We haven’t had a home-
cooked meal since my mom passed away.”
I frowned, my brows pinching as I gaped at him. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well after all. “But we had a nice meal multiple
times with your dad and Mikey. Those were not frozen.”
I would never forget those horrible dinners. The food had been fine, but the company was horrid.
Lincoln gripped the handrail and grimaced as he stretched, lifting his other arm over his head. “Definitely not frozen. My dad
would never do that. They were from restaurants local to the area. He had them delivered.”
I pursed my lips. “Oh, I guess I wasn’t really paying much attention.”
Lincoln shrugged. “It’s all good. Just not the same as my mom’s cooking. You know what I mean?”
“I do. No one cooks stuff like my mom does.” I reached out for him and took his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get you something
to eat.”
I tucked my arm around his waist, and we hobbled up the stairs into the house.
Lincoln leaned on me as we made our way through the front room and into the large kitchen. The green lights on the clock
told me it was still early, just before six.
Most everyone was still asleep at this hour. Patrol shifts didn’t change out for another hour, so we would have the kitchen all
to ourselves, hopefully.
Mom made a big breakfast for everyone on the weekends. During the week, it was up to everyone to fend for themselves.
I pulled out a chair for Lincoln and helped him into it, then opened the stocked-full fridge and took a carton of eggs.
My mom had taught me how to heal. Cooking was more Erica’s forte. I was pretty sure I could make some eggs, though.
“How do you like your eggs?”
Lincoln sat back in the chair and rubbed his eyes. “However you like them is fine.”
I nodded and got to work pulling out some butter, a pan, and some seasonings before turning the stove on.
Lincoln groaned as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
I looked over my shoulder to find that his eyes were shut and his face was scrunched up. “Hey, you okay?”
Lincoln dropped his hands into his lap and gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just tired and a little sore. In my
head, I knew I shouldn’t run like that, but my wolf had other ideas. He’s been cooped up too long, I think.”
Swallowing nervously, I set the spoon down in the pan and kneeled in front of him. “Should I go get my mom?”
“No. I’m fine. Promise.”
I worried my bottom lip as I studied him through narrowed eyes.
He reached out and tucked a finger under my chin. “I’ll be fine. Trust me. You and Sawyer aren’t getting rid of me.”
I gave him a quick, chaste kiss. “You’re a fighter.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know about all that.”
I glared at him. “You took a near lethal dose of wolfsbane and then tackled your brother out a second-story window to save
me. Trust me. You’re a fighter.”
Lincoln’s brows pinched. He opened his mouth and then closed it. I gave him a pointed look before turning back to the stove
and whipped the eggs in the pan as I cursed under my breath. They were starting to stick to the bottom, and the faint smell of
burned eggs hit me.
So much for being able to make scrambled eggs.
At least they looked salvageable.
The chair creaked as Lincoln leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry about Mikey.”
I gripped the edge of the pan handle tighter as I stirred. “You don’t have to apologize for him. It’s not your fault.”
Lincoln made a noise in the back of his throat. “I’m not sure when he got so out of control. My dad at least has some limits.
Mikey’s out of his mind.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I flipped the stovetop off and grabbed two plates and a glass, then I scooped a larger helping onto
Lincoln’s before giving it and some water to him. I joined him at the table with my plate.
Lincoln shoveled a few heaping forkfuls into his mouth and closed his eyes. “These are good.”
I laughed. “You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me they’re burned.”
He jabbed his fork into his eggs. “They aren’t burned.”
I took a bite and then a few more. He might be right. Thank goodness.
Lincoln took a large gulp of water and finished his eggs in record time. “Do you think I’d be able to look at my laptop?”
I scooped the last bit of my eggs into my mouth and grabbed both our plates, going to the sink. “Sure. It’s in my dad’s office.
I’m sure he’ll be in there by now.”
 I bit my lip as I rinsed the dishes. “He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”
Over my shoulder, Lincoln gulped and chuckled as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
I set the clean dishes and pan in the drying rack and sank down next to Lincoln. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about
anything. My dad is incredibly thankful for all you have done for me already.”
I picked up his hand as I stood, and he got up with me. I leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I know you don’t like
being around people, and this is all new to you. We won’t stay for long.”
Lincoln pulled me into a hug. “We do need to speak with your father. I’ve been out of it for so long, I need to know what’s
going on with the website too.”
A frown marred his face as he pulled back. His gaze darted around the kitchen. “Back home, it was suffocating to leave my
room. It doesn’t feel that way here. Your house feels…safe.”
My stomach dropped at his admission. I pulled him into my embrace again. “It is safe. It’s home.”
Lincoln raked his fingers through his hair as he pulled away and glanced at the kitchen door. “I think I’m more nervous about
meeting your father because I’m your mate than I am about everything that’s happened.”
I covered my mouth as I giggled. “Really?”
He gave me a somber look.
I gripped his hand tightly. “Trust me, my dad knows everything you have done for me. Just be the man I am in love with, and
he’s going to love you. Promise.”
Lincoln kissed my temple. “All right. Lead the way.”
We walked hand in hand to the kitchen door, then the world around us began to buzz. Before we could exit, Sawyer appeared
in front of it.
His dark hair was disheveled and his eyes wide as he looked between us.
I took a step forward, my hand going to Sawyer’s chest. “What’s wrong?”
A tick formed in Sawyer’s jaw, and he shook his head. “My dad’s wolfsbane supplier just got a shipment in. We will be
leaving first thing tomorrow to go pick it up. Once we have that, there’s nothing stopping us from attacking your pack. You have
two days. Maybe three, and then my dad will bring the full might of Pack Wolf Blood to your door.”
 Eleven

Sloane

SWEAT BEADED MY BROW as Sawyer’s words sank in.

Two or three days. That wasn’t anywhere near enough time. We still didn’t have the manpower to fight off that kind of attack.
I ran my forearm across my head and shut my eyes briefly as I blew out a breath. My ears rang while a bout of nausea
churned in my belly.
I swallowed. “Is there anything we can do to stop him?”
Lincoln mumbled under his breath, closed his eyes, and massaged his temples.
Sawyer’s nostrils flared as he shook his head. “My dad is a man of action. Once he has his mind set on something, he’s not
going to change it. The second we get that wolfsbane, he’s going to make the final preparations to come here.”
Sawyer gripped one of my hands and put his other one on Lincoln’s shoulder. “I think it’s time that you guys discuss leaving.
There are other places for you to go. It’ll take him longer to find you if you leave.”
A lump formed in my throat, and tears pricked my eyes. “This is my home. We can’t just keep running. At some point, we
have to take a stand and fight back.”
Sawyer cupped both my cheeks with his warm, callused hands and met my gaze. “Sloane, you can’t stay here. It’s not safe.
You don’t have enough wolves to fight.”
I jerked away from him and looked between both brothers. “We can’t run. That’s not a solution. It’s a Band-Aid. There’s
nowhere for us to go. We’ll just keep running, and he’s going to find us eventually.”
I pointed to my home as anger simmered, making my chest warm and my cheeks flush. “We need to stand our ground. We
need to fight back. This is our home. We know this land better than he does. Running will put us at a disadvantage. We can’t
control the landscape. Here, we can.”
Lincoln exhaled loudly. “You’re both right. Arguing about it isn’t going to solve anything. We need to come up with a plan.”
I pursed my lips as I rubbed my hand over my chest. “The wolfsbane is what makes him feel confident, right? He thinks he’s
unstoppable because he has an unfair advantage. Sawyer, do you know where the dealer is?”
A plan started to form. It was crazy and risky, but if we could pull it off, it would buy us time and give us an upper hand.
Sawyer blinked as a frown marred his face. His jaw worked, and then he narrowed his eyes. “I do know the location. Why?”
I nodded as I took a step back and paced the length of the kitchen cabinets. “If you aren’t leaving until tomorrow, then we
should leave right now. We can meet the dealer today without running the risk of running into your father. We get the wolfsbane
before your dad even leaves.”
Lincoln made a noise in the back of his throat and put both hands behind his head as he stretched. “Not the worst idea I’ve
heard. It would be dangerous, though.”
Sawyer shifted on his feet. “We usually just pick up at the guy’s house. He lives in the city. But the only people my dad’s ever
taken have been me and a few of his more trusted enforcers.”
My chest tightened. “He might know that you were the one who gave us the information.”
Lincoln held up a hand. “Not necessarily. I think I can put a wiretap on his phone. Dad knows I’m smart with that kind of
thing. He wouldn’t have to know when it went on. It might actually not be a bad idea to do anyway. With the tap, I would be
able to see who he calls, which would mean I could have traced his dealer’s location.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “He did it to us. We should do it to him. Except this time, make sure that he has no
way of finding out about it.”
Sawyer nodded. “That’s a good idea, but if I’m to keep my cover, he’ll have to find out about it. Otherwise, the suspicion
will fall on me.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Yeah, you’re right. But at least it’ll keep you safe. It gives you an out and plausible deniability that
you weren’t involved in helping us.”
Sawyer let his head fall back, and he rolled his shoulders. “If you’re going to do this, you need to get moving. It needs to
happen today.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “It’s a good idea. I think we need to go talk to my father.”
He would need to sign off on it. Nothing happened in this pack without his authorization.
Lincoln put his arm around my shoulder. “Do you think he’ll approve it?”
I worried my bottom lip as I considered my answer. “I think he will.”
He might not like it. I knew he was terrified of losing any more of his children. But this was war, and we needed every
advantage we could get. Not only would the drug even the playing field, but it would hopefully buy us precious time for more
wolves to arrive.
Sawyer reached out like he was going to hug us, but then he dropped his hands back to his sides. “I should be getting back.
Be safe.”
I lunged forward and threw my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. “Take care of yourself. Try to come as often as you
can so we know you’re safe and can keep you updated.”
Lincoln pressed himself against my back, enveloping us both in a hug as he sandwiched me between them. “She’s right,
Sawyer. You need to stop carrying this burden by yourself. We’re here to help.”
Sawyer clapped Lincoln on the back as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll try. Take care of each other.”
He disappeared, leaving Lincoln and me alone in the kitchen.
Lincoln pulled me tighter against his chest and leaned his head over my shoulder. “We should go speak with your father.”
I nodded as I grasped his hand and led the way through the house to my father’s study. The door was partially open, which
meant that he was available to speak to people. He only ever closed it when he was in a meeting or having a conversation not
everyone should hear.
I knocked and then poked my head in.
My dad looked up from the stack of papers he was reviewing. He smiled when he saw me and waved me in.
Dad got up from his desk and reached his hand out to Lincoln to clasp his palm. “I’m glad to see you on your feet. You gave
us all quite a terrible scare. How are you feeling?”
Lincoln shook my dad’s hand. “Still a little rough, but a lot better. Thank you for everything.”
My dad put his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “It is I who should be thanking you. You kept my daughter safe and protected her
with your life. I will forever be indebted to you for that.”
Lincoln gave a tight-lipped smile and swallowed.
“Dad, we have something to speak with you about, and it’s very time sensitive,” I told him.
My dad motioned to the two plush couches in the center of the room. Lincoln and I sat on one, and he took the one opposite
us.
I wiped my clammy hands on my pants and shared a look with Lincoln, who gave me an encouraging nod. I sucked in a deep
breath and let it out before telling my dad the entire plan we’d come up with in the kitchen.
When I was done, he sat back on the couch, rubbing his jaw. “And you have a location, and you think you can get there and
back without incident?”
I sat up taller. “I trust Sawyer. The information is good, and this will give us the advantage that we need and hopefully delay
the attack.”
My dad tilted his head from side to side, seeming to consider it. “It’s a good idea. I’m proud of you both.”
Lincoln patted my leg. “It was all her idea, sir. She came up with it.”
A smile spread over my dad’s face, and his eyes lit up as he met my gaze.
He cleared his throat as he turned his attention back to Lincoln. “Do you think the dealer will give it to you since you’re not
your father?”
Lincoln looked down at his hands as he flexed them in his lap. “It’s my understanding that the guy is a drug dealer. He wants
to get the goods sold as quickly as possible. I know my dad has sent other trusted men there without him. It shouldn’t be an
issue.”
My dad exhaled and nodded. “The plan seems solid. I want you to leave if you’re feeling up to it, Lincoln?”
I swallowed and rubbed my palms up and down my legs as I gazed at Lincoln. He’d been unconscious for days and had
barely just woken up. I prayed we weren’t pushing him too fast.
Lincoln shifted on the couch, making it creak with his movements. “I know I’m not one hundred percent, but I know what I
can do, and I’m sure that I can handle this.”
My dad narrowed his eyes, giving Lincoln an appraising look. “If you think you can do it, then you have my blessing to go as
soon as you’re ready. Probably the sooner the better. I would like to send Mark and maybe Brandon with you.”
My heart fell. I’d kind of been hoping to have some time alone with Lincoln again. I wasn’t going to argue, though. My dad
was right—we needed more people with us.
 Lincoln inclined his head. “That’s a good idea. I want to take a quick shower and get a change of clothes. I need to also set
up the wiretap to make sure Sawyer’s cover is protected, but I think we’ll be ready to leave within the hour.”
My dad pressed his lips together in a tight smile. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and met my gaze. “These past few
weeks, you sure made it hard for your old man to sleep at night.”
My mouth popped open, and I started to protest.
My dad held up a hand. “I don’t mean that as an insult. Sloane, there’s something I want to talk to you about before you go.
It’ll give you some time to think about it before you make a decision.”
I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees and resting my chin on my palm. “Is everything okay?”
My dad chuckled lightly and looked away. He licked his lips and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before turning back
to me. “Darren was supposed to be my successor.”
Dad cleared his throat and looked down as he fiddled with his wedding ring. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about who I
should name as my successor now that he’s gone. Brandon isn’t anywhere near ready, and Mark is strong and would qualify,
but he doesn’t have the heart. Erica is much too young. I want it to be you, Sloane. These past few weeks, you’ve shown that
you are every bit as capable of putting the pack ahead of your own well-being, as well as thinking smart and in the best interest
of the pack.“
A lump formed in my throat, and a weight pressed against my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. There were some days I
wasn’t sure I could take care of myself, and he wanted me to take care of the pack? It was a crazy idea.
Dad got up and came to sit on the opposite side of me. He picked up my hand and held it. “I’m sure this is a surprise to you. I
understand. It’s not something you asked for or probably ever thought about. But I’ve given it a lot of thought since your
brother…”
He swallowed hard before clearing his throat. “I don’t expect an answer from you today, Sloane. Use your time away to
think if this would be a good fit for you. Being an alpha is not easy. I fear it will only get rougher the longer this war drags on.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “You sound like you’re planning on not being around, Daddy.”
My dad pulled me into a hug and made a hushing noise. “Believe me, Sloane, I have no intention of going anywhere. But we
are entering into a war, and there will be casualties. If I were to fall, I want to make sure that I have my successor chosen. The
last thing we need is a scramble for power, and I prefer the pack stay with our family.”
I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. A few tears trickled down my cheeks. My great grandfather had founded the pack and built
this house around eighty years ago.
I understood what he was saying. It made perfect sense from his standpoint. Still, a cold chill zipped down my spine, and my
heart hammered harder. Nothing was going to happen to him, so I shouldn’t be worried, but what if something did? Would I be
able to run the pack? If I took over and failed I’d be letting him down.
My dad pulled back and cupped my face with his hands. “Promise me you’ll think about it, and you can let me know when
you get back.”
I bit my trembling lip and gave him a curt nod.
The reality of what he was asking made my head spin and blurred the room.
Pull yourself together.
Mark and Brandon weren’t ready to be alpha or didn’t want it. Erica was much too young. If I didn’t take the lead, then our
pack would be gone. The home I fought for would belong to another man.
My dad might be giving me a choice. But the way I saw it, I didn’t have any choice at all. I would have to say yes.
Me, an alpha.
I wasn’t ready.
 Twelve

Sloane

THE TREES WHIRLED BY in a blur as we sped down the back country roads.
I pushed on my stomach as I laid my head against the window and let my eyes slide shut. It didn’t stop the butterflies from
scurrying through my belly.
I wasn’t sure if the nausea had to do with my trip or what my father had asked of me. Maybe a little of both.
Lincoln reached across the backseat, took my hand, and gave it a squeeze.
I glanced over at him and forced a smile.
His brows drew together in a frown. We hadn’t had a chance to talk about what happened earlier. I knew he and Sawyer
would both support me, regardless of what I chose.
Brandon turned around in the passenger seat and peered back at us. “About how much longer do you think it’ll be?”
Lincoln raked his hand through his hair and looked out his window. “Not too much longer. The road we need to turn on is just
up ahead.”
Mark shook his head and moved his right arm from the steering wheel to point at the GPS in the middle of the center console.
“You’d know that if you looked at the car.”
Brandon rolled his eyes as he turned back around in the front seat. “Too quiet in here. It’s making me antsy.”
Mark made a noise in the back of his throat. “You know you didn’t have to come, right?”
Brandon drummed his hands on the dashboard. “I know I didn’t have to come. I wanted to. Besides, the more people, the
better, right? Safety in numbers. That’s what Dad is always saying.”
Mark made a face as he shook his head. “Not if you drive everyone else in the car crazy first.”
I sighed and scooted forward between the front seats. “Stop. Both of you. We’re all nervous and showing it in our own ways.
Picking fights with each other isn’t going to help the matter.”
My brothers both mumbled an apology. I slid back into the seat and crossed my arms over my chest. Sometimes my brothers
could be like children. Their fighting was only driving me closer to the edge. I felt like I was barely holding on. If I couldn’t
handle the pressure of being on a mission with Lincoln and my brothers, how could I manage the pack?
I could feel Lincoln’s eyes on me, and I turned to look at him. He had a small half smile on his face.
Lincoln reached out to me through our link to speak in my head. I think your dad is right. You’re a natural-born leader.
I grabbed my biceps as I hugged myself tighter. I don’t know, Lincoln. It was supposed to be Darrin’s job. I’ve never really
thought much about it.
My big brother was supposed to be the alpha. Not me. He would’ve been great, and not just because Dad had been training
him his whole life. Darrin had a way with people. He always knew what to say to make them feel better. My brother could light
up a room just by walking in.
I mashed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut as tears threatened to fall.
God, I missed him.
Lincoln scooted across the backseat, pulling me into his arms and holding me. It’s a big responsibility. And I’ll support you
regardless of what you choose. Sawyer will, too.
I let my hands fall limp and rested my head on his shoulder. I know you will. I just don’t think I’m ready for it, and I hate
that I don’t feel like I have a choice.
Lincoln kissed the top of my head and stayed in that position. There is always a choice. You’ve had lots of choices in the
past few weeks alone. Your dad is right about that. Every choice that you’ve made has been to keep your pack safe.
Tears blurred my vision. You really think that I have what it takes to be an alpha?
Most people don’t know what they’re capable of until they’re thrown into a situation that’s out of their hands. You’ve
been dealt several of those recently. All of them you’ve handled brilliantly. You’re stronger than you know.
Lincoln skimmed his arm up and down mine. No alpha is perfect. But with the right group of people to help you and guide
you, I think you could be an excellent leader.
His words made my heart swell, and I smiled.
The GPS’s automated voice belted out through the car that our right turn was a mile ahead. We were almost there.
Lincoln lifted his head off mine and cleared his throat as he pulled away from our link to speak out loud to Brandon and
Mark. “When we get there, I should be the one to do the talking.”
Mark flexed his hands on the wheel. “Please feel free to take the lead. I don’t want this to go south any more than anyone else
does.”
Lincoln placed a kiss on my temple and then pulled away, moving back to the other side of the car. “The idea is for us to get
in and out as quickly as possible. My dad usually doesn’t stick around for chitchat, so it won’t be out of the ordinary for us to
get our product and leave.”
I pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “What about the wiretap? Did you have any time to do that yet?”
He had been on his computer, but that was to get the address for our dealer, or that’s what I thought he was doing.
Lincoln looked over and gave me a warm smile. “Trust me, I didn’t forget that. Everything is set up already. I did it while
you were in the shower.”
I rolled my eyes and stifled a laugh. “It can’t possibly be that easy or fast, right?”
Lincoln chuckled as he cracked his knuckles. “It is when you know what you’re doing. It’s something that I’ve already been
looking into for a while.”
Brandon turned around in his seat and looked back at us. “I’ve been telling my dad for a long time that we need to up our tech
game.”
Lincoln swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, tech makes a big difference. And thankfully, my dad has no idea what he’s doing
with it. Most of the men there don’t.”
Mark exhaled and flexed his hands on the wheel. “I guess that’s one thing for us, and we need everything we can get to get a
leg up on your father. It’s something I think we can exploit when we have a chance to think about the best way to do it.”
Brandon cracked his knuckles. “You know, I know a bit about coding.”
Mark made a pfft sound as he shook his head. “That’s not the same thing.”
Brandon’s expression fell, and he looked out the window. “It is.”
Lincoln shifted in the seat as he glanced at me. “What sort of coding do you do?”
Brandon leaned his head against the window. “I’ve been building my own video games and host them on my own server.”
Lincoln’s brows lifted. “Really?”
Brandon didn’t get the chance to respond before the GPS told us to take a right.
Mark flipped on his blinker and made the turn. “We’ll be there in two minutes.”
I ran my hands up and down my pants as I tapped my foot lightly against the worn floorboard. I puffed out my cheeks and then
let my breath out slowly, but it didn’t stop the pounding in my ears.
The car slowed. I blinked and flicked my gaze to the dash. We were still about three quarters of a mile away from the house.
“Don’t slow down. Don’t do anything that draws unwanted attention. Drive the speed limit.” Despite the incessant roaring in
my head, my voice came out calm and even.
Lincoln put his hand on the back of Mark’s seat. “She’s right. We want to slip in and out with no incident and no attention.”
Brandon tapped his hands on his thighs as he moved his head back and forth like he was jamming out to a song, except there
was no music playing. “Are we all getting out of the car?”
I pursed my lips. Brandon was a nervous ball of energy. Not that I was one to talk. I couldn’t sit still either. Mark had a fine
sheen of sweat on his brow, but he knew how to stay collected under pressure.
I wrung my hands in my lap. “Brandon, I want you to take the driver’s seat. We all know you can maneuver a car quickly and
safely should we need it. Mark, Lincoln, and I will go up to the house. Be ready to go if we need to make a hasty retreat.”
Brandon nodded. “Got it. I’m the getaway driver.” He let out a nervous laugh.
I reached forward and gripped his shoulder. “I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
He continued to bob his head up and down.
Out the front window, large family houses lined the endless street. They were well kept with immaculate lawns and garden
beds. A few kids played outside in the yard.
I focused on the house numbers slowly creeping by. This was taking forever.
A glance at the speedometer told me Mark was going twenty-five, the speed limit. I swore we were only going ten, maybe
less.
The GPS chirped, “You have arrived,” and Mark eased us over to the curb and put the car in park.
I peered out my window. The driveway had a few junker cars in it, and weeds grew in all the flower beds and the unkempt
yard. The lawn hadn’t been mowed in a while and would probably hit about my ankles.
 His neighbors probably hated him, considering everyone else’s yard looked clean and welcoming. If they had a homeowners
association, they were probably constantly nagging. This place was atrocious.
My fingers trembled as I put my hand on the door handle. I blew out a breath and exited at the same time Lincoln and Mark
got out.
They walked around the car and joined me on my side. Together, we walked up to the small green house. Lincoln went ahead
of us, jogging up the stairs and knocking on the door.
Music blared from inside like the guy was either having some sort of midday party or playing a video game. We waited a
few seconds, and when no one came, Lincoln pounded on the door hard enough to make it rattle.
The music cut out, and footsteps stomped toward the door. A lock clicked, and the door cracked open. A guy with greasy hair
and a five-o’clock shadow stuck his head out. “Can I help you?”
Lincoln stuck his foot in the door and put his hand on it as well. “My father sent me to collect the wolfsbane from you.”
The guy’s brows knitted together into a frown. He shifted his gaze from Lincoln to me and Mark. “Dane told me he’d be here
tomorrow morning. I haven’t gotten everything all set up yet. You’ll have to come back then.”
He lifted a cigarette and then puffed the smoke out into Lincoln’s face.
Lincoln blinked slowly but didn’t flinch. “Well, we’re here today to pick it up. It’s been a long drive, and you’ve worked
with my dad long enough to know he isn’t someone who takes kindly to being told no. It’d be in your best interest to just get it
ready for us now.”
The guy took another draw from his cigarette. “It’s going to take me a few minutes to gather everything up. You can tell your
dad I’m not too fond of unannounced visits.”
Lincoln chuckled. “My dad pays you a great amount of money for this stuff. Do you want to get an attitude about it? I’m sure
there’s someone else he could find to help us out.”
The guy laughed and held up both hands. “’Course not. My bad. There aren’t a whole lot of people asking for this stuff.
Might have a hard time finding another dealer.”
Lincoln growled low in his throat and shoved his foot against the door hard enough to push it open farther.
The guy frowned and took a step back as he held up his hands in surrender. He raked a hand through his hair. “Can’t
complain about the money, though.”
Lincoln put his other hand on the doorframe and leaned in so he was almost in the guy’s face. “You’re right. You can’t
complain about the money. Now, we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so if we can move things along, I’d really appreciate it. The
last thing you want to do is make my dad angry.”
The guy took another puff from his cigarette and then motioned us inside. “Come on in. It’ll be just a few minutes, so you can
have a seat on the couch. I have to go down to the basement to get everything put together.”
He swung the door open, letting Lincoln in first. I followed after him, and then Mark pulled up the rear. The house smelled
like an ashtray, probably because there were ashtrays all over the place full of cigarette butts.
I did my best to breathe through my mouth, but the stench was making my eyes water and my nose tickle.
The guy motioned to the couch, which was home to an array of empty chip bags and other trash. “Make yourself at home. It’ll
be just a few minutes.”
He ducked through a doorway, his footsteps thudding through the house as he made his way down the hall. Another door
creaked open and then slammed shut, and it sounded like he was going downstairs.
Lincoln rolled his shoulders and rocked his head from side to side. “This shouldn’t take too long.”
I ran a hand through my hair as I surveyed the room. Music played from the TV where a video game was paused. An open
bag of chips and a pop can sat on an end table by a grungy chair that looked like it had been used as a napkin one too many
times.
I scrunched my nose up. “Do you think he bought it?”
Mark tapped his foot on the floor. “Why wouldn’t he?”
Lincoln narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “He’s a drug dealer. There’s always a risk when you throw something out of the
ordinary at them. What he does is illegal. He’s probably cautious, and no one wants to piss off my dad.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “He did try to send us away. How long do we give him?”
Lincoln opened his mouth like he was going to answer, but the faint voice of the guy downstairs filtered up through the vents.
I cocked my head to the side and closed my eyes, doing my best to listen. Thank goodness for wolf hearing, but it was really
hard to make it out anyway.
I only picked up a few words, the most important one being Dane.
Lincoln darted forward. “He’s calling my dad!”
 Thirteen

Lincoln

I DARTED DOWN THE hall, my shoes thumping against the floorboards. I skidded to a stop and yanked the door to the
basement open, then took them two at a time. I leaped off the last three and landed in a squat at the bottom.
The guy pulled the phone away from his ear, his mouth open and eyes wide. He hung up and dropped the cell on a table
before holding his hands up in surrender.
He gulped as his eyes darted from me to Sloane and Mark, who were now right behind me. “Dude, it’s not what you think.”
My lip curled, and I stalked toward him. “Oh? Then who were you calling?”
The guy’s back hit the table, and he leaned away as I encroached on his space. “It’s…it’s not like that.”
His putrid breath hit me in the face, making my stomach curdle and my nose burn.
Ugh, when was the last time he brushed his teeth? Or washed, for that matter?
His gaze darted around the room as he trembled. “Dane told me he was coming himself. He said this order was exceptionally
important and was paying me extra to…”
I narrowed my eyes and gripped his shirt collar. “Paying you extra to do what?”
He shook his head, his gaze darting around the room like he was scoping out the best exit.
Sloane put a hand on my shoulder as she came up next to me, her gaze on the dealer. “You need to tell us. Please, it’s
important.”
The guy mashed his lips together. “I can’t. He’ll kill me. You aren’t supposed to be here. I’m not stupid.”
I gave the guy a shake. “No, we’re not. My dad’s hours away. Tell us what you were making and give us the wolfsbane, and
you’ll have plenty of time to run before my dad ever makes it here.”
Sloane moved toward him. “We won’t hurt you. I can’t say the same for Al… For Dane.”
The guy’s bottom lip trembled. “How do I know you won’t kill me once you get the wolfsbane? I don’t know what you all
are mixed up in—”
“You don’t want to know.” I let go of the guy.
He wiped at his mouth with his palm.
I took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. “Tell us what we need to know and give us the product, and we’ll all
be able to get out of here before my dad arrives. All of us.”
The guy jerked his hand through his grimy hair as his gaze shifted between Sloane and me. His hair was so dirty that it stood
up all on its own.
Sloane sighed. “Hey, we’re losing time. We won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Her voice came out soft and smooth.
He pursed his lips and then pointed at a table in the corner. “Your product is there.”
Sloane touched my elbow. “Mark and I will get it ready.”
I met Sloane’s gaze. “Be careful with it.”
She pressed her mouth into a thin smile. “We will.” She turned to her brother. “Come on, Mark. There are some gloves over
here.”
I turned back to our dealer as Sloane and Mark went to work. “What were you making for my dad?”
The guy swallowed and did his best to avoid eye contact. “He wanted about a quarter of the product to be injectable and the
rest of it as an aerosol.”
I gritted my teeth. He intended to take people alive and use the wolfsbane as a method of torture. It wasn’t surprising.
The dealer wet his lips. “You guys figure out a way to get high off that stuff or something? I tried to smoke it a few times
and…nothing.”
 This idiot tried to smoke it?
I lifted a brow. “Or something. Have you made any of it injectable?”
The guy nodded and pointed to a bin on the far end of the desk. “Some. The syringes are all in there.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need some extra syringes and the directions on how to make it injectable and an aerosol.”
I grabbed the bag from Sloane and the syringes from the table as Sloane and Mark clomped up the stairs.
I turned back to the guy. “Hey, you should make sure you’re not here when my dad comes. He can be pretty mean when he’s
angry.”
I turned on my heel and jogged up the steps. Sloane and Mark were waiting for me by the door.
Sloane opened it. “Are we sure we have everything?”
I had a full bag, and Mark had two, plus the syringes. It was more than what my dad usually got. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
My stomach knotted. Hopefully, our friend downstairs didn’t have more stashed away. I shifted on my feet as I considered it.
No, he’d given us what he had. It was all out on the table. There was no reason for him to keep some on the side.
Wolves were the only ones who wanted wolfsbane. I’d never heard of a human getting high off it.
Mark led the way out to the car, and Sloane popped the trunk. We shoved everything in there and then got in the car.
Sloane slid across the back seat so she sat right next to me and sighed, resting her head on my shoulder. “Do you think he’ll
listen and leave?”
I turned back to the house as Brandon eased us onto the road. The guy stood in the doorway watching us.
I wrapped an arm around Sloane. “I don’t know. We gave him our advice. That’s the best we can do.”
She hummed. “Do you think your dad will think anything of him calling? I don’t think he actually spoke to him, but…”
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly while I tried to rub out the knot forming just beneath my collarbone. “I don’t
know. It doesn’t matter. He’s hours away from here.”
The drive from Sloane’s took five hours. It would be even farther for my dad.
Sloane pulled away from me and retrieved her phone from her jacket pocket. “I should text my dad and let him know
everything went according to plan.”
Her fingers shook as she typed out a quick reply, and then she shoved her phone back into her pocket. She offered me a small
smile before she snuggled into me, her head resting on my shoulder once again.
Her breathing evened out after a moment. I blinked my eyes slowly, my eyelids growing heavier by the moment until I
couldn’t keep them open any longer.
The car jostled, pulling me out of sleep. I peeked one eye open and then the other. The car rocked back and forth, and it took
me a moment to realize we were on a gravel road.
No, not a road. A driveway. We were back at Sloane’s. I narrowed my eyes and peered out the window.
The sun dipped beneath the trees as dusk settled in. That was the worst thing about the beginning of fall—it started to get
dark early.
The illuminated lights on the dash said it was only a little after eight.
Sloane grumbled against me. She nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck, and her warm breath glided over my skin,
sending a shiver through me. Her hand slid over my thigh, inching its way toward my groin.
I put a hand over the top of hers and gave her a gentle shake. “Hey, we’re back home.”
She groaned and arched forward, her hand inching dangerously closer to my cock. I wouldn’t mind if we were alone, but I
didn’t want a hard-on when we got out of the car or if we ran into her dad.
He had asked for an update when we got back about his inquiry of Sloane. We’d spoken briefly about it, but she’d never said
what she was going to do. I’d have to ask her once we were alone.
Sloane pulled away from me and scooted over to the passenger side. She stretched her arms out and rolled her shoulders.
Brandon pulled up right in front of the house. The front door opened, and Sloane’s mom stepped out onto the porch, waving
as we pulled up. Two enforcers were with her.
She led them down the steps and toward the car as Brandon killed the motor. Sloane opened her door at the same time I did,
and we climbed out together.
We met her mom at the back of the car just as the two enforcers opened the trunk.
Sloane’s mom sighed and shook her head as she covered her mouth with her hand. “There is so much of it.”
She turned to the two enforcers. “Take it to the barn where we discussed, please.”
I put my hand on the back of the car. “The instructions on the different ways to weaponize it are in the bags, too.”
Sloane’s mom pressed her lips together. “Make sure the men know that and get started right away. And for goodness’ sake,
please tell everyone to be careful with that stuff. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
One of the men dipped his head. “Of course, Mrs. Kathleen.”
The guys gathered up the wolfsbane and trudged down the trail to one of the barns.
Kathleen kept her hand over her mouth as she watched them leave. “I don’t like having that stuff here. The idea of using it
makes my skin crawl.”
Another random document with
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 LE GRAND CONTRAT POUR LA FOURNITURE DU BŒUF
CONSERVÉ
Aussi brièvement que possible, je désire exposer à la nation la part, si
petite soit-elle, que j’ai eue dans cette affaire qui a préoccupé si grandement
l’opinion publique, engendré tant de querelles et rempli les journaux des
deux continents de renseignements erronés et de commentaires extravagants.
Voici quelle fut l’origine de cet événement fâcheux. Je n’avance, dans le
résumé suivant, aucun fait qui ne soit confirmé par les documents officiels
du gouvernement.
John Wilson Mackensie, de Rotterdam, comté de Chemung, New-Jersey,
actuellement décédé, fit un contrat avec le gouvernement général, le 10
octobre 1861, ou à peu près à cette date, pour fournir au général Sherman la
somme totale de trente barils de bœuf conservé.
Très bien.
Il partit à la recherche de Sherman, avec son bœuf. Mais quand il fut à
Washington, Sherman venait de quitter cette ville pour Manassas. Mackensie
prit donc son bœuf, et l’y suivit, mais il arriva trop tard. Il le suivit à
Nashville, et de Nashville à Chattanooga, et de Chattanooga à Atlanta, mais
sans pouvoir le rejoindre. A Atlanta, il reprit sa course et poursuivit Sherman
dans sa marche vers la mer. Il arriva quelques jours trop tard. Mais apprenant
que Sherman s’était embarqué pour la Terre Sainte, en excursion, à bord de
la Cité des Quakers, il fit voile pour Beyrouth, calculant qu’il dépasserait
l’autre navire. Une fois à Jérusalem, avec son bœuf, il sut que Sherman ne
s’était pas embarqué sur la Cité des Quakers, mais qu’il était retourné dans
les plaines pour combattre les Indiens. Il revint en Amérique et partit pour
les montagnes Rocheuses. Après soixante-huit jours de pénible voyage à
travers les plaines, et comme il se trouvait à moins de quatre milles du
quartier général de Sherman, il fut tomahawqué et scalpé, et les Indiens
prirent le bœuf. Ils ne lui laissèrent qu’un baril. L’armée de Sherman s’en
empara, et ainsi, même dans la mort, le hardi navigateur put exécuter une
partie de son contrat. Dans son testament, écrit au jour le jour, il léguait le
contrat à son fils Barthelemy Wilson. Barthelemy rédigea la note suivante, et
mourut:
Doit le Gouvernement des États-Unis.
 Pour son compte avec John Wilson Mackensie, de New-Jersey, décédé:
Dollars
Trente barils de bœuf au général Sherman, à 100 dollars 3.000
Frais de voyage et de transport 14.000
Total 17.000
Pour acquit...
Il mourut donc, mais légua son contrat à W. J. Martin, qui tenta de se faire
payer, mais mourut avant d’avoir réussi. Lui, le légua à Barker J. Allen, qui
fit les mêmes démarches, et mourut. Barker J. Allen le légua à Anson G.
Rogers, qui fit les démarches pour être payé, et parvint jusqu’au bureau du
neuvième auditeur à la Cour des comptes. Mais la mort, le grand régulateur,
survint sans être appelée, et lui régla son compte à lui. Il laissa la note à un
de ses parents du Connecticut, Vengeance Hopkins on le nommait, qui dura
quatre semaines et deux jours, et battit le record du temps; il manqua de
vingt-quatre heures d’être reçu par le douzième auditeur. Dans son testament
il légua le contrat à son oncle, un nommé O Gai-Gai Johnson. Ce legs fut
funeste à O Gai-Gai. Ses dernières paroles furent: «Ne me pleurez pas. Je
meurs volontiers.» Il ne mentait pas, le pauvre diable. Sept autres personnes,
successivement, héritèrent du contrat. Toutes moururent. Il est enfin venu
entre mes mains. Je l’héritai d’un parent nommé Hubbard, Bethléhem
Hubbard, d’Indiana. Il avait eu de l’inimitié pour moi pendant longtemps.
Mais à ses derniers moments, il me fit appeler, se réconcilia avec moi
complètement, et en pleurant me donna le contrat de bœuf.
Ici finit l’histoire du contrat jusqu’au jour où il vint en ma possession. Je
vais essayer maintenant d’exposer impartialement, aux yeux de la nation,
tout ce qui concerne ma part en cette matière. Je pris le contrat et la note
pour frais de route et transport, et j’allai voir le président des États-Unis.
—«Monsieur, me dit-il, que désirez-vous?»
Je répondis:—«Sire, à la date, ou à peu près, du 10 octobre 1861, John
Wilson Mackensie, de Rotterdam, comté de Chemung, New-Jersey, décédé,
fit un contrat avec le gouvernement pour fournir au général Sherman la
somme totale de trente barils de bœuf...»
Il m’arrêta là, et me congédia, avec douceur, mais fermeté. Le lendemain
j’allais voir le secrétaire d’État.
Il me dit:—«Eh bien, Monsieur?»
 Je répondis:—«Altesse Royale, à la date ou à peu près du 10 octobre
1861, John Wilson Mackensie, de Rotterdam, comté de Chemung, New-
Jersey, décédé, fit un contrat avec le gouvernement pour fournir au général
Sherman la somme totale de trente barils de bœuf...»
—«Cela suffit, Monsieur, cela suffit; ce bureau n’a rien à faire avec les
fournitures de bœuf.»
Je fus salué et congédié. Je réfléchis mûrement là-dessus et me décidai, le
lendemain, à voir le ministre de la marine, qui dit:—«Soyez bref, Monsieur,
et expliquez-vous.»
Je répondis:—«Altesse Royale, à la date, ou à peu près, du 10 octobre
1861, John Wilson Mackensie, de Rotterdam, comté de Chemung, New-
Jersey, décédé, fit un contrat avec le gouvernement pour fournir au général
Sherman la somme totale de trente barils de bœuf.»
Bon. Ce fut tout ce qu’on me laissa dire. Le ministre de la marine n’avait
rien à faire avec les contrats pour quel général Sherman que ce fût. Je
commençai à trouver qu’un gouvernement était une chose curieuse. J’eus
comme une vision vague qu’on faisait des difficultés pour me payer. Le jour
suivant, j’allai voir le ministre de l’intérieur.
Je dis:—«Altesse Royale, à la date, ou à peu près, du 10 octobre...»
—«C’est assez, Monsieur. J’ai entendu parler de vous déjà. Allez,
emportez votre infâme contrat de bœuf hors de cet établissement. Le
ministère de l’intérieur n’a absolument rien à faire avec l’approvisionnement
de l’armée.»
Je sortis, mais j’étais furieux. Je dis que je les hanterais, que je
poursuivrais tous les départements de ce gouvernement inique, jusqu’à ce
que mon compte fût approuvé. Je serais payé, ou je mourrais, comme mes
prédécesseurs, à la peine. J’attaquai le directeur général des postes.
J’assiégeai le ministère de l’agriculture. Je dressai des pièges au président de
la Chambre des représentants. Ils n’avaient rien à faire avec les contrats pour
fourniture de bœuf à l’armée. Je fus chez le commissaire du bureau des
brevets.
Je dis:—«Votre auguste Excellence, à la date ou à peu près...»
—«Mort et damnation! Vous voilà enfin venu ici avec votre infernal
contrat de bœuf! Nous n’avons rien à faire avec les contrats de bœuf à
l’armée, mon cher seigneur.»
 —«C’est très bien. Mais quelqu’un a affaire de payer pour ce bœuf. Il
faut qu’il soit payé, maintenant, ou je fais mettre les scellés sur ce vieux
bureau des brevets et tout ce qu’il contient.»
—«Mais, cher Monsieur...»
—«Il n’y a pas à discuter, Monsieur. Le bureau des brevets est comptable
de ce bœuf. Je l’entends ainsi. Et, comptable ou non, le bureau des brevets
doit payer.»
Épargnez-moi les détails. Cela finit par une bataille. Le bureau des
brevets eut l’avantage. Mais je trouvai autre chose pour me rattraper. On me
dit que le ministère des finances était l’endroit exact où je devais m’adresser.
J’y allai. J’attendis deux heures et demie. Enfin je fus admis auprès du
premier lord de la trésorerie. Je dis:
—«Très noble, austère et éminent Signor, à la date ou à peu près du 10
octobre 1861, John Wilson Macken...»
—«Je sais, Monsieur. Je vous connais. Allez voir le premier auditeur de
la trésorerie...»
J’y allai. Il me renvoya au second auditeur, celui-ci au troisième, et le
troisième m’envoya au premier contrôleur de la section des conserves de
bœuf. Cela commençait à prendre tournure. Le contrôleur chercha dans ses
livres et dans un tas de papiers épars, mais ne trouva pas la minute du
contrat. Je vis le deuxième contrôleur de la section des conserves de bœuf. Il
examina ses livres et feuilleta des papiers.—Rien.—Je fus encouragé, et
dans la semaine j’allai jusqu’au sixième contrôleur de cette division. La
semaine suivante, j’allai au bureau des réclamations. La troisième semaine
j’entamai et achevai le département des comptes perdus, et je mis le pied sur
le département des comptes morts. J’en finis avec ce dernier en trois jours. Il
ne me restait plus qu’une place où pénétrer. J’assiégeai le commissaire des
affaires au rebut. Son commis, plutôt, car lui n’était pas là.
Il y avait seize belles jeunes filles dans la salle, écrivant sur des registres,
et sept jeunes clercs favorisés, qui leur montraient comment on fait. Les
jeunes filles souriaient, la tête penchée vers les commis, et les commis
souriaient aux jeunes filles, et tous paraissaient aussi joyeux qu’une cloche
de mariage. Deux ou trois commis, en train de lire les journaux, me
regardèrent plutôt fraîchement, mais continuèrent leur lecture, et personne ne
dit mot. D’ailleurs j’avais eu le temps de m’habituer à ces accueils cordiaux
de la part des moindres surnuméraires, depuis le premier jour où je pénétrai
dans le premier bureau de la division des conserves de bœuf, jusqu’au jour
où je sortis du dernier bureau de la division des comptes perdus. J’avais fait
dans l’intervalle de tels progrès que je pouvais me tenir debout sur un pied
depuis le moment où j’entrais dans un bureau jusqu’au moment où un
commis me parlait, sans changer de pied plus de deux ou peut-être trois fois.
Ainsi je demeurai là, jusqu’à ce que j’eusse changé de pied quatre fois.
Alors je dis à un des commis qui lisaient:
—«Illustre vagabond, où est le Grand Turc?»
—«Qu’est-ce que vous dites, Monsieur, qu’est-ce que vous dites? Si vous
voulez parler du chef de bureau, il est sorti.»
—«Viendra-t-il visiter son harem aujourd’hui?»
Le jeune homme fixa ses yeux un moment sur moi, puis reprit la lecture
de son journal. Mais j’avais l’expérience des commis. Je savais que j’étais
sauvé s’il terminait sa lecture avant qu’arrivât le courrier suivant de New-
York. Il n’avait plus à lire que deux journaux. Au bout d’un moment il eut
fini. Il bâilla et me demanda ce que je voulais:
—«Renommé et respectable imbécile. A la date du...»
—«Vous êtes l’homme du contrat de bœuf. Donnez-moi vos papiers.»
Il les prit, et pendant longtemps farfouilla dans ses rebuts. Enfin, il trouva
ce qui était pour moi le passage du Nord-Ouest. Il trouva la trace depuis si
longtemps perdue de ce contrat de bœuf, le roc sur lequel tant de mes
ancêtres s’étaient brisés avant de l’atteindre. J’étais profondément ému. Et
cependant j’étais heureux, car j’avais vécu jusque-là. Je dis avec émotion:
—«Donnez-le-moi. Le gouvernement va le régler.»
Il m’écarta du geste, et me dit qu’il restait une formalité à remplir.
—«Où est ce John Wilson Mackensie?» dit-il.
—«Mort.»
—«Où est-il mort?»
—«Il n’est pas mort du tout. On l’a tué.»
—«Comment?»
—«D’un coup de tomahawk.»
—«Qui donc?»
—«Qui? un Indien, naturellement. Vous ne supposez pas que ce fut le
directeur général des cours d’adultes.»
 —«Non, en effet. Un Indien, dites-vous?»
—«C’est cela même.»
—«Le nom de l’Indien?»
—«Son nom? Mais je ne le connais pas!»
—«Il nous faut avoir le nom. Qui a assisté au meurtre?»
—«Je n’en sais rien.»
—«Vous n’étiez donc pas là, vous?»
—«Comme vous pouvez le voir à ma chevelure. J’étais absent.»
—«Alors, comment pouvez-vous savoir que Mackensie est mort?»
—«Parce qu’il mourut certainement à ce moment-là, et que j’ai toutes
sortes de raisons de croire qu’il est resté mort depuis. Je le sais d’ailleurs
pertinemment.»
—«Il nous faut des preuves. Avez-vous amené l’Indien?»
—«Sûrement non.»
—«Bien. Il faut l’amener. Avez-vous le tomahawk?»
—«Je n’y ai jamais songé.»
—«Vous devez présenter le tomahawk. Vous devez produire l’Indien et le
tomahawk. La mort de M. Mackensie une fois prouvée par leur comparution,
vous pourrez vous présenter devant la commission chargée des réclamations
avec quelques chances de voir votre note accueillie assez favorablement
pour que vos enfants, si leur vie est assez longue, puissent recevoir l’argent
et en profiter. Mais il faut que la mort de cet homme soit prouvée. D’ailleurs,
j’aime autant vous le dire, le gouvernement ne réglera jamais les frais de
transport et frais de voyage du malheureux Mackensie. Peut-être paiera-t-il
le baril de bœuf capturé par les soldats de Sherman, si vous pouvez obtenir
un vote du Congrès autorisant ce paiement. Mais on ne paiera pas les vingt-
neuf barils que les Indiens ont mangés.»
—«Alors on me doit seulement cent dollars, et cela même n’est pas sûr!
Après tous les voyages de Mackensie en Europe, Asie, Amérique, avec son
bœuf; après tous ses soucis, ses tribulations; après la mort lamentable des
innocents qui ont essayé de toucher cette note!... Jeune homme, pourquoi le
premier contrôleur de la division des conserves de bœuf ne me l’a-t-il pas dit
tout d’abord?»
—«Il ne savait absolument rien sur le bien-fondé de votre réclamation.»
 —«Pourquoi le second ne l’a-t-il pas dit? Et le troisième? Pourquoi toutes
ces divisions et tous ces bureaux ne me l’ont-ils pas dit?»
—«Aucun d’eux n’en savait rien. Tout marche par routine ici... Vous avez
suivi la routine et trouvé ce que vous vouliez savoir. C’est la meilleure voie.
C’est la seule. Elle est très régulière, très lente, mais très sûre.»
—«C’est la mort qui est sûre, et qui l’a été pour tous les gens de ma tribu.
Je commence à me sentir frappé, moi aussi. Jeune homme, vous aimez la
belle créature qui est là-bas. Elle a des yeux bleus, et un porte-plume sur
l’oreille. Je le devine à vos doux regards: vous voulez l’épouser, mais vous
êtes pauvre. Approchez. Donnez votre main. Voici le contrat de bœuf. Allez,
mariez-vous, et soyez heureux. Dieu vous bénisse, mes enfants!»
Voilà tout ce que je sais au sujet de ce grand contrat de bœuf, dont on a
tant parlé. Le commis à qui je l’avais donné est mort. Je n’ai plus eu de
nouvelles du contrat ou de quelque chose s’y rapportant. Je sais seulement
que, pourvu qu’un homme vive assez longtemps, il peut suivre une affaire à
travers les bureaux des circonlocutions de Washington, et découvrir à la fin,
après beaucoup de travail, de fatigue et de patience, ce qu’il aurait pu
découvrir dès le premier jour, si les affaires du bureau des circonlocutions
étaient classées avec autant d’ordre qu’elles le seraient dans n’importe quelle
grande entreprise commerciale privée.
 UNE INTERVIEW
Le jeune homme nerveux, alerte et déluré, prit la chaise que je lui offrais,
et dit qu’il était attaché à la rédaction du Tonnerre Quotidien. Il ajouta:
—«J’espère ne pas être importun. Je suis venu vous interviewer.»
—«Vous êtes venu quoi faire?»
—«Vous interviewer.»
—«Ah! très bien. Parfaitement. Hum!... Très bien...»
Je ne me sentais pas brillant, ce matin-là. Vraiment, mes facultés me
semblaient un peu nuageuses. J’allai cependant jusqu’à la bibliothèque.
Après avoir cherché six ou sept minutes, je me vis obligé de recourir au
jeune homme.
—«Comment l’épelez-vous?» dis-je.
—«Épeler quoi?»
—«Interviewer.»
—«Bon Dieu! que diable avez-vous besoin de l’épeler?»
—«Je n’ai pas besoin de l’épeler, mais il faut que je cherche ce qu’il
signifie.»
—«Eh bien, vous m’étonnez, je dois le dire. Il m’est facile de vous
donner le sens de ce mot. Si...»
—«Oh, parfait! C’est tout ce qu’il faut. Je vous suis certes très obligé.»
—«I-n, in, t-e-r, ter, inter...»
—«Tiens, tiens... vous épelez avec un i.»
—«Évidemment.»
—«C’est pour cela que j’ai tant cherché!»
—«Mais, cher Monsieur, par quelle lettre auriez-vous cru qu’il
commençât?»
—«Ma foi, je n’en sais trop rien. Mon dictionnaire est assez complet.
J’étais en train de feuilleter les planches de la fin, si je pouvais dénicher cet
objet dans les figures. Mais c’est une très vieille édition.»
—«Mon cher Monsieur, vous ne trouverez pas une figure représentant
une interview, même dans la dernière édition... Ma foi, je vous demande
pardon, je n’ai pas la moindre intention blessante, mais vous ne me paraissez
pas être aussi intelligent que je l’aurais cru... Je vous jure, je n’ai pas
l’intention de vous froisser.»
—«Oh! cela n’a pas d’importance. Je l’ai souvent entendu dire, et par des
gens qui ne voulaient pas me flatter, et qui n’avaient aucune raison de le
faire. Je suis tout à fait remarquable à ce point de vue. Je vous assure. Tous
en parlent avec ravissement.»
—«Je le crois volontiers. Mais venons à notre affaire. Vous savez que
c’est l’usage, maintenant, d’interviewer les gens connus.»
—«Vraiment, vous me l’apprenez. Ce doit être fort intéressant. Avec quoi
faites-vous cela?»
—«Ma foi, vous êtes déconcertant. Dans certains cas, c’est avec un
gourdin qu’on devrait interviewer. Mais d’ordinaire ce sont des questions
que pose l’interviewer, et auxquelles répond l’interviewé. C’est une mode
qui fait fureur. Voulez-vous me permettre de vous poser certaines questions
calculées pour mettre en lumière les points saillants de votre vie publique et
privée?»
—«Oh! avec plaisir, avec plaisir. J’ai une très mauvaise mémoire, mais
j’espère que vous passerez là-dessus. C’est-à-dire que j’ai une mémoire
irrégulière, étrangement irrégulière. Des fois, elle part au galop, d’autres
fois, elle s’attardera toute une quinzaine à un endroit donné. C’est un grand
ennui pour moi.»
—«Peu importe. Vous ferez pour le mieux.»
—«Entendu. Je vais m’y appliquer tout entier.»
—«Merci. Êtes-vous prêt? Je commence.»
—«Je suis prêt.»
—«Quel âge avez-vous?»
—«Dix-neuf ans, en juin.»
—«Comment! Je vous aurais donné trente-cinq ou trente-six ans. Où êtes-
vous né?»
—«Dans le Missouri.»
—«A quel moment avez-vous commencé à écrire?»
—«En 1836.»
—«Comment cela serait-il possible, puisque vous n’avez que dix-neuf
ans?»
—«Je n’en sais rien. Cela paraît bizarre, en effet.»
 —«Très bizarre. Quel homme regardez-vous comme le plus remarquable
de ceux que vous avez connus?»
—«Aaron Burr.»
—«Mais vous n’avez jamais pu connaître Aaron Burr, si vous n’avez que
dix-neuf ans!»
—«Bon! si vous savez mieux que moi ce qui me concerne, pourquoi
m’interrogez-vous?»
—«Oh! ce n’était qu’une suggestion. Rien de plus. Dans quelles
circonstances avez-vous rencontré Aaron Burr?»
«Voici. Je me trouvai par hasard un jour à ses funérailles, et il me pria de
faire un peu moins de bruit, et...»
—«Mais, bonté divine, si vous étiez à ses funérailles, c’est qu’il était
mort. Et s’il était mort, que lui importait que vous fissiez ou non du bruit?»
—«Je n’en sais rien. Il a toujours été un peu maniaque, de ce côté-là.»
—«Allons, je n’y comprends rien. Vous dites qu’il vous parla, et qu’il
était mort.»
—«Je n’ai jamais dit qu’il fût mort.»
—«Enfin était-il mort, ou vivant?»
—«Ma foi, les uns disent qu’il était mort, et d’autres qu’il était vivant.»
—«Mais vous, que pensiez-vous?»
—«Bon! Ce n’était pas mon affaire. Ce n’est pas moi que l’on enterrait.»
—«Mais cependant... Allons, je vois que nous n’en sortirons pas. Laissez-
moi vous poser d’autres questions. Quelle est la date de votre naissance?»
—«Le lundi, 31 octobre 1693.»
—«Mais c’est impossible! Cela vous ferait cent quatre-vingts ans d’âge.
Comment expliquez-vous cela?»
—«Je ne l’explique pas du tout.»
—«Mais vous me disiez tout à l’heure que vous n’aviez que dix-neuf ans!
et maintenant vous en arrivez à avoir cent quatre-vingts ans! C’est une
contradiction flagrante.»
—«Vraiment! L’avez-vous remarqué? (Je lui serrai les mains.) Bien
souvent en effet cela m’a paru comme une contradiction. Je n’ai jamais pu,
d’ailleurs, la résoudre. Comme vous remarquez vite les choses!»
 —«Merci du compliment, quel qu’il soit. Aviez-vous, ou avez-vous des
frères et des sœurs?»
—«Eh! Je... Je... Je crois que oui, mais je ne me rappelle pas.»
—«Voilà certes la déclaration la plus extraordinaire qu’on m’aie jamais
faite!»
—«Pourquoi donc? Pourquoi pensez-vous ainsi?»
—«Comment pourrais-je penser autrement? Voyons. Regardez par là. Ce
portrait sur le mur, qui est-ce? N’est-ce pas un de vos frères?»
—«Ah! oui, oui, oui! Vous m’y faites penser maintenant. C’était un mien
frère. William, Bill, comme nous l’appelions. Pauvre vieux Bill!»
—«Quoi! il est donc mort?»
—«Certainement. Du moins, je le suppose. On n’a jamais pu savoir. Il y a
un grand mystère là-dessous.»
—«C’est triste, bien triste. Il a disparu, n’est-ce pas?»
—«Oui, d’une certaine façon, généralement parlant. Nous l’avons
enterré.»
—«Enterré! Vous l’avez enterré, sans savoir s’il était mort ou vivant!»
—«Qui diable vous parle de cela? Il était parfaitement mort.»
—«Ma foi! j’avoue ne plus rien comprendre. Si vous l’avez enterré, et si
vous saviez qu’il était mort...»
—«Non, non, nous pensions seulement qu’il l’était.»
—«Ah! je vois. Il est revenu à la vie.»
—«Je vous parie bien que non.»
—«Eh bien! je n’entendis jamais raconter chose pareille. Quelqu’un est
mort. On l’a enterré. Où est le mystère là-dedans?»
—«Mais là justement! C’est ce qui est étrange. Il faut vous dire que nous
étions jumeaux, le défunt et moi. Et un jour, on nous a mêlés dans le bain,
alors que nous n’avions que deux semaines, et un de nous a été noyé. Mais
nous ne savons pas qui. Les uns croient que c’était Bill. D’autres pensent
que c’était moi.»
—«C’est très curieux. Et quelle est votre opinion personnelle?»
—«Dieu le sait! Je donnerais tout au monde pour le savoir. Ce solennel et
terrible mystère a jeté une ombre sur toute ma vie. Mais je vais maintenant
vous dire un secret que je n’ai jamais confié à aucune créature jusqu’à ce
jour. Un de nous avait une marque, un grain de beauté, fort apparent, sur le
dos de la main gauche. C’était moi. Cet enfant est celui qui a été noyé.»
—«Ma foi, je ne vois pas, dès lors, qu’il y ait là-dedans le moindre
mystère, tout considéré.»
—«Vous ne voyez pas. Moi, je vois. De toute façon, je ne puis
comprendre que les gens aient pu être assez stupides pour aller enterrer
l’enfant qu’il ne fallait pas. Mais chut!... N’en parlez jamais devant la
famille. Dieu sait que mes parents ont assez de soucis pour leur briser le
cœur, sans celui-là.»
—«Eh bien, j’ai, ce me semble, des renseignements suffisants pour
l’heure, et je vous suis très obligé pour la peine que vous avez prise. Mais
j’ai été fort intéressé par le récit que vous m’avez fait des funérailles
d’Aaron Burr. Voudriez-vous me raconter quelle circonstance, en particulier,
vous fit regarder Aaron Burr comme un homme si remarquable?»
—«Oh! un détail insignifiant. Pas une personne sur cinquante ne s’en
serait aperçue. Quand le sermon fut terminé, et que le cortège fut prêt à partir
pour le cimetière, et que le corps était installé bien confortable dans le
cercueil, il dit qu’il ne serait pas fâché de jeter un dernier coup d’œil sur le
paysage. Il se leva donc et s’en fut s’asseoir sur le siège, à côté du
conducteur.»
Le jeune homme, là-dessus, me salua et prit congé. J’avais fort goûté sa
compagnie, et fus fâché de le voir partir.
 ROGERS
Je rencontrai le nommé Rogers, et il se présenta lui-même, dans le sud de
l’Angleterre, où je résidais alors. Son beau-père avait épousé une mienne
parente éloignée, qui, par la suite, fut pendue. Il paraissait croire, en
conséquence, à une parenté entre nous. Il venait me voir tous les jours,
s’installait et causait. De toutes les curiosités humaines sympathiques et
sereines que j’ai vues, je le regarde comme la première. Il désira examiner
mon nouveau chapeau haut de forme. Je m’empressai, car je pensais qu’il
remarquerait le nom du grand chapelier d’Oxford Street, qui était au fond, et
m’estimerait d’autant. Mais il le tourna et le retourna avec une sorte de
gravité compatissante, indiqua deux ou trois défauts et dit que mon arrivée,
trop récente, ne pouvait pas laisser espérer que je susse où me fournir. Il
m’enverrait l’adresse de son chapelier. Puis il ajouta: «Pardonnez-moi», et se
mit à découper avec soin une rondelle de papier de soie rouge. Il entailla les
bords minutieusement, prit de la colle, et colla le papier dans mon chapeau
de manière à recouvrir le nom du chapelier. Il dit: «Personne ne saura
maintenant où vous l’avez acheté. Je vous enverrai une marque de mon
chapelier, et vous pourrez l’appliquer sur la rondelle de papier.» Il fit cela le
plus calmement, le plus froidement du monde, je n’ai vu de ma vie un
homme plus admirable. Remarquez que, pendant ce temps, son propre
chapeau était là, sur la table, au grand détriment de mon odorat. C’était un
vieil éteignoir informe, fripé et déjeté par l’âge, décoloré par les intempéries
et bordé d’un équateur de pommade suintant au travers.
Une autre fois, il examina mon vêtement. J’étais sans effroi, car mon
tailleur avait sur sa porte: «Par privilège spécial, fournisseur de S.A.R. le
prince de Galles», etc... Je ne savais pas alors que la plupart des maisons de
tailleurs ont le même signe sur la porte, et que, dès le moment qu’il faut neuf
tailleurs pour faire un homme, comme on dit, il en faut cent cinquante pour
faire un prince. Rogers fut touché de compassion par la vue de mon
vêtement. Il me donna par écrit l’adresse de son tailleur. Il ne me dit pas,
comme on fait d’ordinaire, en manière de compliment, que je n’aurais qu’à
mentionner mon nom de plume, et que le tailleur mettrait à confectionner
mes habits ses soins les plus dévoués. Son tailleur, m’apprit-il, se dérangerait
difficilement pour un inconnu (inconnu! quand je me croyais si célèbre en
Angleterre! ce fut le coup le plus cruel), mais il me prévint de me
recommander de lui, et que tout irait bien.
Voulant être plaisant, je dis:—«Mais s’il allait passer la nuit, et
compromettre sa santé?»
—«Laissez donc, répondit Rogers, j’ai assez fait pour lui pour qu’il m’en
ait quelque égard.»
J’aurais aussi bien pu essayer de déconcerter une momie avec ma
plaisanterie. Il ajouta:
—«C’est là que je fais tout faire. Ce sont les seuls vêtements où l’on
puisse se voir.»
Je fis une autre tentative.—«J’aurais aimé en voir un sur vous, si vous en
aviez porté un.»
—«Dieu vous bénisse, n’en porté-je pas un sur moi?... Cet article vient de
chez Morgan.»
J’examinai le vêtement. C’était un article acheté tout fait, à un juif de
Chatham Street, sans doute possible, vers 1848. Il avait dû coûter quatre
dollars, quand il était neuf. Il était déchiré, éraillé, râpé, graisseux. Je ne pus
m’empêcher de lui montrer où il était déchiré. Il en fut si affecté que je fus
désolé de l’avoir fait. D’abord il parut plongé dans un abîme sans fond de
douleur. Il se remit, fit le geste d’écarter de lui avec ses mains la pitié d’un
peuple entier, et dit, avec ce qui me parut une émotion fabriquée: «Je vous
en prie. Cela n’a pas d’importance. Ne vous en tourmentez pas. Je puis
mettre un autre vêtement.»
Quand il fut tout à fait remis, qu’il put examiner la déchirure et
commander à ses sentiments, il dit que, ah! maintenant, il comprenait. Son
domestique avait fait cela, sans doute, en l’habillant, ce matin.
Son «domestique»! Il y avait quelque chose d’angoissant dans une telle
effronterie.
Presque chaque jour il s’intéressait à quelque détail de mon vêtement. On
eût pu s’étonner de trouver cette sorte d’infatuation chez un homme qui
portait toujours le même costume, et un costume qui paraissait dater de la
conquête de l’Angleterre par les Normands.
C’était une ambition méprisable, peut-être, mais je souhaitais pouvoir lui
montrer quelque chose à admirer, dans mes vêtements ou mes actes. Vous
auriez éprouvé le même désir. L’occasion se présenta. J’étais sur le point de
mon retour à Londres, et je venais de compter mon linge sale pour le
blanchissage. C’était vraiment une imposante montagne dans le coin de la
chambre, cinquante-quatre pièces. J’espérais qu’il penserait que c’était le
linge d’une seule semaine. Je pris le carnet de blanchissage, comme pour
m’assurer que tout était en règle, puis le jetai sur la table, avec une
négligence affectée. Naturellement, il le prit et promena ses yeux en
descendant jusqu’au total. Alors, il dit: «Vous ne devez pas vous ruiner», et
le reposa sur la table.
Ses gants étaient un débris sinistre. Mais il m’indiqua où je pourrais en
avoir de semblables. Ses chaussures avaient des fentes à laisser passer des
noix, mais il posait avec complaisance ses pieds sur le manteau de la
cheminée et les contemplait. Il avait une épingle de cravate avec un morceau
de verre terne, qu’il appelait un «diamant morphylitique», quoi que cela pût
signifier. Il me dit qu’on n’en avait jamais trouvé que deux. L’empereur de
Chine avait l’autre.
Plus tard, à Londres, ce fut une joie pour moi de voir ce vagabond
fantastique s’avancer dans le vestibule de l’hôtel avec son allure de grand-
duc; il avait toujours quelque nouvelle folie de grandeur à inaugurer. Il n’y
avait d’usé chez lui que ses vêtements. S’il m’adressait la parole devant des
étrangers, il élevait toujours un peu la voix pour m’appeler: «Sir Richard» ou
«Général» ou «Votre Honneur», et quand les gens commençaient à faire
attention et à regarder avec respect, il se mettait à me demander
incidemment pourquoi je ne m’étais pas rendu la veille au rendez-vous du
duc d’Argyll, ou bien me rappelait que nous étions attendus le lendemain
chez le duc de Westminster. Je suis persuadé qu’à ce moment-là il était
convaincu de la réalité de ce qu’il disait. Il vint un jour me voir et m’invita à
passer la soirée chez le duc de Warwick, à sa maison de ville. Je dis que je
n’étais pas personnellement invité. Il répondit que cela n’avait aucune
importance, le duc ne faisant pas de cérémonies avec lui ou ses amis.
Comme je demandais si je pouvais aller comme j’étais, il dit que non, ce
serait peu convenable. L’habit de soirée était exigé, le soir, chez n’importe
quel gentleman. Il offrit de m’attendre pendant que je m’habillerais. Puis
nous irions chez lui. Je boirais une bouteille de champagne et fumerais un
cigare pendant qu’il s’apprêterait. Fort désireux de voir la fin de cela, je
m’habillai et nous partîmes pour chez lui. Il me proposa d’aller à pied, si je
n’y voyais pas d’inconvénient. Nous pataugeâmes environ quatre milles à
travers la boue et le brouillard. Finalement nous trouvâmes son appartement.
C’était une simple chambre au-dessus de la boutique d’un barbier, dans une
rue écartée. Deux chaises, une petite table, une vieille valise, une cuvette et
une cruche (toutes deux dans un coin sur le plancher), un lit pas fait, un
fragment de miroir, et un pot de fleur avec un petit géranium rose qui
s’étiolait. C’était, me dit-il, une plante «séculaire». Elle n’avait pas fleuri
depuis deux cents ans. Il la tenait de feu lord Palmerston. On lui en avait
offert des sommes fantastiques. Tel était le mobilier. En outre, un chandelier
de cuivre avec un fragment de bougie. Rogers alluma la bougie, et me pria
de m’asseoir et de me considérer comme chez moi. Je devais avoir soif,
espéra-t-il, car il voulait faire à mon palais la surprise d’une marque de
champagne comme tout le monde n’en buvait pas. Aimais-je mieux du
sherry, ou du porto? Il avait, me dit-il, du porto dans des bouteilles toutes
recouvertes de toiles d’araignées stratifiées. Chaque couche représentait une
génération. Pour les cigares, j’en jugerais par moi-même. Il mit la tête à la
porte et appela:
—«Sackville!» Pas de réponse.
—«Hé! Sackville!» Pas de réponse.
—«Où diable peut être passé ce sommelier? Je ne permets jamais
pourtant à un de mes domestiques de... Oh! l’idiot! il a emporté les clefs! Je
ne puis pas aller dans les autres pièces sans les clefs.»
(J’étais justement en train d’admirer l’intrépidité avec laquelle il
prolongeait la fiction du champagne, essayant de deviner comment il allait se
tirer de là.)
Il cessa d’appeler Sackville et se mit à crier: «Anglesy!» Anglesy ne vint
pas non plus. Il dit: «C’est la seconde fois que cet écuyer s’est absenté sans
permission. Demain, je le renverrai.»
Il se mit alors à héler «Thomas!» Mais Thomas ne répondit pas. Puis
«Théodore!» Pas de Théodore.
«Ma foi, j’y renonce, fit-il. Mes gens ne m’attendent jamais à cette heure-
ci. Ils sont tous partis en bombe. A la rigueur on peut se passer de l’écuyer et
du page, mais nous ne pouvons avoir ni vin ni cigares sans le sommelier. Et
je ne puis pas m’habiller sans mon valet.»
J’offris de l’aider à s’habiller. Mais il ne voulut pas en entendre parler.
D’ailleurs, dit-il, il ne se sentirait pas confortable s’il n’était arrangé par des
mains expérimentées; finalement il conclut que le duc était un trop vieil ami
pour se préoccuper de la manière dont il serait vêtu. Nous prîmes donc un
cab, il donna quelques indications au cocher, et nous partîmes. Nous
arrivâmes enfin devant une vieille maison et nous descendîmes. Je n’avais
jamais vu Rogers avec un col. Il s’arrêta sous un réverbère, sortit de la poche
de son vêtement un vieux col en papier, où pendait une cravate usée, et les
mit. Il monta les marches et entra. Je le vis reparaître presque aussitôt; il
marcha vers moi précipitamment et me dit:
—«Venez. Vite!»
Nous nous éloignâmes en hâte, et tournâmes le coin de la rue.
—«Nous voici en sûreté», fit-il.
Il quitta son col et sa cravate et les remit dans sa poche.
—«Je l’ai échappé belle», dit-il.
—«Comment cela?» fis-je.
—«Par saint Georges, la comtesse était là!»
—«Eh bien, quoi? Ne vous connaît-elle pas?»
—«Si, elle me connaît! Mais elle m’adore. J’ai pu jeter un coup d’œil
avant qu’elle m’eût aperçu. Et j’ai filé. Je ne l’avais pas vue depuis deux
mois. Entrer comme cela, sans la prévenir, eût été fatal. Elle n’aurait pas
supporté le coup. Je ne savais pas qu’elle fût en ville. Je la croyais dans son
château... Laissez-moi m’appuyer sur vous... un instant... Là, je me sens
mieux; merci, grand merci. Dieu me bénisse. Quelle échappée!»
En définitive, ma visite au duc fut remise aux calendes grecques. Mais je
notai la maison pour information plus ample. Je sus que c’était un hôtel de
famille ordinaire, où perchaient environ un millier de gens quelconques.
Pour bien des choses, Rogers n’était nullement fou. Pour certaines, il
l’était évidemment, mais sûrement il l’ignorait. Il se montrait, dans ces
dernières, du sérieux le plus absolu. Il est mort au bord de la mer, l’été
dernier, chez le «comte de Ramsgate».
 L’INFORTUNÉ FIANCÉ D’AURÉLIA
Les faits suivants sont consignés dans une lettre que m’écrit une jeune
fille habitant la belle ville de San José. Elle m’est parfaitement inconnue, et
signe simplement: Aurélia-Maria, ce qui est peut-être un pseudonyme. Mais
peu importe. La pauvre fille a le cœur brisé par les infortunes qu’elle a
subies. Elle est si troublée par les conseils opposés de malveillants amis et
d’ennemis insidieux, qu’elle ne sait à quel parti se résoudre pour se dégager
du réseau de difficultés dans lequel elle semble prise presque sans espoir.
Dans son embarras, elle a recours à moi, elle me supplie de la diriger et de la
conseiller, avec une éloquence émouvante qui toucherait le cœur d’une
statue. Écoutez sa triste histoire.
Elle avait seize ans, dit-elle, quand elle rencontra et aima, avec toute
l’ardeur d’une âme passionnée, un jeune homme de New-Jersey, nommé
Williamson Breckinridge Caruthers, de quelque six ans son aîné. Ils se
fiancèrent, avec l’assentiment de leurs amis et parents, et, pour un temps,
leur carrière parut devoir être caractérisée par une immunité de malheur au
delà du lot ordinaire de l’humanité. Mais, un jour, la face de la fortune
changea. Le jeune Caruthers fut atteint d’une petite vérole de l’espèce la plus
virulente, et quand il retrouva la santé, sa figure était trouée comme un
moule à gaufre et toute sa beauté disparue pour toujours.
Aurélia songea d’abord à rompre son engagement, mais, par pitié pour
l’infortuné, elle se contenta de renvoyer le mariage à une autre saison, et
laissa une chance au malheureux.
La veille même du jour où le mariage devait avoir lieu, Breckinridge,
tandis qu’il était occupé à suivre des yeux un ballon, tomba dans un puits et
se cassa une jambe, qu’on dut lui amputer au-dessus du genou. Aurélia, de
nouveau, fut tentée de rompre son engagement, mais, de nouveau, l’amour
triompha, et le mariage fut remis, et elle lui laissa le temps de se rétablir.
Une infortune nouvelle tomba sur le malheureux fiancé. Il perdit un bras
par la décharge imprévue d’un canon que l’on tirait pour la fête nationale, et,
trois mois après, eut l’autre emporté par une machine à carder. Le cœur
d’Aurélia fut presque brisé par ces dernières calamités. Elle ne pouvait
s’empêcher de ressentir une profonde affliction, en voyant son amoureux la
quitter ainsi morceau par morceau, songeant qu’avec ce système de
progressive réduction il n’en resterait bientôt plus rien, et ne sachant
comment l’arrêter sur cette voie funeste. Dans son désespoir affreux, elle en
venait presque à regretter, comme un négociant qui s’obstine dans une
affaire et perd davantage chaque jour, de ne pas avoir accepté Breckinridge
tout d’abord, avant qu’il eût subi une si alarmante dépréciation. Mais son
cœur prit le dessus, et elle résolut de tenter l’épreuve des dispositions
déplorables de son fiancé encore une fois.
De nouveau se rapprochait le jour du mariage, et de nouveau se
rassemblèrent les nuages de désillusion. Caruthers tomba malade de
l’érysipèle, et perdit l’usage de l’un de ses yeux, complètement. Les amis et
les parents de la jeune fille, considérant qu’elle avait montré plus de
généreuse obstination qu’on ne pouvait raisonnablement exiger d’elle,
intervinrent de nouveau, et insistèrent pour qu’elle rompît son engagement.
Mais après avoir un peu hésité, Aurélia, dans toute la générosité de ses
honorables sentiments, dit qu’elle avait réfléchi posément sur la question, et
qu’elle ne pouvait trouver dans Breckinridge aucun sujet de blâme. Donc,
elle recula de nouveau la date, et Breckinridge se cassa l’autre jambe.
Ce fut un triste jour pour la pauvre fille, que celui où elle vit les
chirurgiens emporter avec respect le sac dont elle avait appris l’usage par des
expériences précédentes, et son cœur éprouva cruellement qu’en vérité
quelque chose de son fiancé avait encore disparu. Elle sentit que le champ de
ses affections diminuait chaque jour, mais encore une fois elle répondit
négativement aux instances de tous les siens, et renouvela son engagement.
Enfin, peu de jours avant le terme fixé pour le mariage, un nouveau
malheur arriva. Il n’y eut, dans toute l’année, qu’un seul homme scalpé par
les Indiens d’Owen River, cet homme fut Williamson Breckinridge
Caruthers, de New-Jersey. Il accourait chez sa fiancée, avec la joie dans le
cœur, quand il perdit sa chevelure pour toujours. Et dans cette heure
d’amertume, il maudit presque la chance ironique à laquelle il dut de sauver
sa vie.
A la fin, Aurélia est fort perplexe sur la conduite à tenir. Elle aime encore
son fiancé, m’écrit-elle,—ou, du moins, ce qu’il en reste,—de tout son cœur,
mais sa famille s’oppose de toutes ses forces au mariage; Breckinridge n’a
pas de fortune et est impropre à tout travail. Elle n’a pas d’autre part des
ressources suffisantes pour vivre à deux confortablement.—«Que dois-je
faire?» me demande-t-elle, dans cet embarras cruel.
 C’est une question délicate. C’est une question dont la réponse doit
décider pour la vie du sort d’une femme et de presque les deux tiers d’un
homme. Je pense que ce serait assumer une trop grave responsabilité que de
répondre par autre chose qu’une simple suggestion.
A combien reviendrait-il de reconstituer un Breckinridge complet? Si
Aurélia peut supporter la dépense, qu’elle achète à son amoureux mutilé des
jambes et des bras de bois, un œil de verre et une perruque, pour le rendre
présentable. Qu’elle lui accorde alors quatre-vingt-dix jours sans délai, et si,
dans cet intervalle, il ne se rompt pas le cou, qu’elle coure la chance de
l’épouser. Je ne crois pas que, faisant cela, elle s’expose à un bien grand
risque, de toute façon. Si votre fiancé, Aurélia, cède encore à la tentation
bizarre qu’il a de se casser quelque chose chaque fois qu’il en trouve
l’occasion, sa prochaine expérience lui sera sûrement fatale, et alors vous
serez tranquille, mariée ou non. Mariée, les jambes de bois et autres objets,
propriété du défunt, reviennent à sa veuve, et ainsi vous ne perdez rien, si ce
n’est le dernier morceau vivant d’un époux honnête et malheureux, qui
essaya sa vie durant de faire pour le mieux, mais qui eut sans cesse contre lui
ses extraordinaires instincts de destruction.—Tentez la chance, Maria, j’ai
longuement réfléchi sur ce sujet, et c’est le seul parti raisonnable.
Certainement Caruthers aurait sagement fait de commencer, à sa première
expérience, par se rompre le cou. Mais puisqu’il a choisi une autre méthode,
décidé à se prolonger le plus possible, je ne crois pas que nous puissions lui
faire un reproche d’avoir fait ce qui lui plaisait le plus. Nous devons tâcher
de tirer le meilleur parti des circonstances, sans avoir la moindre amertume
contre lui.