Forsaken Devotion, Part 2 (Ruthless Wolves #2)

Prologue

I ran through the Crescent Hotel lobby, clutching myself as though the pressure alone could keep my heart from splitting in half. Every inch of my body hurt. A dull, bone-deep throbbing pain. How could he kiss me so passionately—rock my entire sense of self—and then reject me?

How could he touch her? My stomach lurched.

As I pushed through the glass door, the soft pitter-patter of rainfall filled my ears. I lowered my head, tucking the hood closer to my cheeks, and my knuckles grazed tears.

At some point, I’d started crying.

What was more likely was—I’d probably never stopped.

Dad’s little Civic sat at the end of the drive, where fancy vehicles lined up in front of the hotel. I ran toward it, stepping out from under the awning that was blocking the sleet of rain.

Water pelted onto me, seeping into my hoodie, but I didn’t care, running full speed toward Dad, who was currently getting out of the car. He caught me against his chest, pulling me close.

“What’s the rush?”

I could barely hear him over the rain and my sobbing. My chin tipped up until I met his eyes, and I blinked away the droplets clinging to my eyelashes.

“Papá—” I choked off, hiccupping. I couldn’t see him through the liquid coating my eyes.

“What is it, Joey?” His thick eyebrows furrowed.

“Please, let’s leave. I don’t want to be here.” I hiccupped.

“Joe . . .”

“Please,” I sobbed, bending to hold my stomach. My cell phone slipped out of the front of my hoodie, hitting the pavement on its face.

Tears wouldn’t stop coming, to the point that they dripped off my chin.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me upright. Blinded, I grabbed my phone and staggered after him. The door screeched as he swung it open, and he guided me onto the seat. I plopped down, and the door shutting left me in silence. I swiped my damp sleeve across my eyes.

Dad was around the car, sliding onto the driver’s seat, and detaching from the curb within my next breath. He sped through the main road, leaving behind the sprawling, luxurious hotel where my fated remained.

Good thing we hadn’t brought down all our stuff, or we would have been stuck getting everything back in the car.

I swiped my sleeve across my shattered phone screen, and it glitched. I threw the trashed device into the side of the car door.

“What happened?” Concern seeped from his tone, making the knot in my throat throb.

“Where did you go?” I struggled to ask. “I went to the room, and you were gone.”

“I met with one of the Alpha’s Dominants to discuss joining the pack?—”

“I don’t want to.” I shook my head hard.

My tears had calmed to the point that they only spilled when I blinked.

Dad became silent as a sob obstructed my breathing.

We’d left everything behind because I wanted to move.

“But we can’t go back to our last pack—” I sucked in a breath. “What are we going to do?” I hiccupped.

Another wave of pain assaulted my chest, and I doubled over with a groan. “It hurts.”

My heart hurt, too. Literally ached with each beat like it was making a point to drive in the agony.

I wouldn’t be able to attend the university I wanted to, not with my mate so close. Everything I’d planned and expected of my future was no longer possible. I was so dead set on moving to Portland that I didn’t apply to any backup schools.

A hand cupped the top of my head and forcefully turned me. Dad peeked at me and then turned back to the road.

“We’ll figure it out. Even if we have to be Rogue for a while.”

Another wave of pain pulsed in my heart.

I’d put him in this situation. I sniffled, swiping the back of my hand across my cheek.

The rain had become a drizzle, and the beams of the car illuminated a path forward.

Towering trees lined both sides of the road, slightly curving in as if they were appendages reaching to grab us.

I wasn’t sure how long it was; time ceased all meaning.

An endless road. All I could see ahead through the swaying border of trees was pure darkness.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, but with only the soft plop of the rain against the windshield, it sounded loud.

We hadn’t left our last pack on the best terms; the Alpha had said to never set foot on his territory again.

He’d always been an emotion-riddled old shifter, so it was no loss.

But I never realized how comforting it was to have a direction.

“We’ll keep driving until we find a motel for the night,” Dad murmured gruffly. He never let me down.

My lips trembled, tears of love trickling free. He’d always taken care of me after Mom died, even when he didn’t want to live.

I knew his pain at no longer having his mate, but he tried his best for me.

The tension stiffening my shoulders incrementally relaxed, and I leaned back into the seat.

Everything was going to be okay?—

The car rocked with a loud bang. My head flung forward, and pain surged through the column of my neck and where the seat belt compressed my chest. Dad righted the car, his lips stiffening into a thin line.

Headlights flicked on and off behind us, spilling into the car. It was too close! The clamor of the engine drowned out even the rain.

“What’s happening?” My voice trembled. Rails framed the road a few yards ahead.

“Are you buckled in?” Dad asked. His eyes were wide, and he kept clenching and unclenching the steering wheel. I could tell he was trying to shove down his fear.

“Yeah,” I croaked.

Dad locked in on the road with focus, slamming down on the accelerator. Desperately, I turned my head to look behind us. It was a huge truck, and the light beams speared directly into my eyes. I squinted, trying to see who it was, but couldn’t make anything out through the brilliant LED lights.

The loud truck burst forward noisily.

“It’s coming!”

Dad cursed, but it was too late; the truck roared so, so close. It bumped the back of the car, and that was it.

The back tires gave out, and our vehicle fishtailed. I clutched the handle above the door. As I screamed, the blur of the rotating trees flashed across my vision. Dad was suddenly leaning over me, his body shielding mine.

The car tipped sideways and collided with a guard rail. As everything went still, a hiss exploded from the engine. Eerie, long, and frightening. Sharp stabs of pain traveled down my neck, the dull pulsing worsening with each of my breaths.

“Papá?”

He didn’t move. His weight was heavy on top of me. “Papá?” I gripped his arm and shook, making his head flop to the side. It bent at an awful angle.

I screamed again, and my hand shook while I unbuckled my seatbelt and then searched for the door handle.

“You’re going to be fine,” I croaked. Finally, I managed to wiggle my fingers into the latch and the door popped open. We were at a slight angle, so we both slipped out of the car, landing on the hard forest ground.

“Papá?” I rolled onto my knees, crawling to his still form, lying on his side.

His foot was still half in the vehicle. The position looked nothing close to normal.

Once I made it to him, I carefully lay him on his back.

His head remained turned the other direction.

The headlight beams offered me a clear view.

“Papá . . .” I choked out a cry, lifting a trembling hand beneath his nose.

Please, let me feel him breathing .

A deep, body shaking cry clogged in my throat. I knew the truth. For as long as I left my hand under his nose, there would never be any air puffing against my finger.

Whines spilled from my lips. I didn’t know what to do or think or?—

Sudden pain struck the back of my head. I flew forward with a cry, falling on top of Dad. Everything spun, and I couldn’t get my arms to work.

“I didn’t hit her hard enough.” The voice was deep and observant. “My poor truck.”

Sagging onto my back, I faced the blurred sky.

With the moon overhead, all I could see was the outline of a male figure.

I groaned, trying to move, but my body had disconnected from my mind.

Pain throbbed with each beat of my heart.

It took extra effort to focus through the high-pitched ringing.

The headlights outlined a medium-sized man.

“Do you have the drugs?” the same voice asked.

“Yes,” another voice, deep and curt, said. “Fucking finish the job and shove her in the driver’s seat.” My eyes were too heavy to keep open.

Ambulance sirens sounded in the distance.

“Fuck,” voice one snarled. I struggled to blink and groaned, moving my fingers. The outline of the first figure came toward me with strides so hurried that I didn’t have a chance to move.

Then pain . . . followed by nothing.