47. Mason
CHAPTER 47
Mason
I jerk awake, a surge of icy panic flooding through me, stealing the air from my lungs. My heart pounds, but it’s not from a bad dream—it’s something deeper, more primal, like a warning seared into my bones. Before I can process it, Dean’s up, too, eyes wide and alert as he sucks in a shaky breath. One look at him, and I know he feels it, too.
“Chad and Lakelyn,” he rasps, the raw edge in his voice a perfect mirror of the fear clawing at my own throat.
In a second, we’re both throwing on clothes, barely getting them on as we bolt out of the room. My hands are shaking as I zip up my jacket, but there’s no time to steady myself. There’s only one thing driving me now: getting to them before it’s too late.
We tear through the house and out the door, adrenaline pulsing, nearly tripping over each other in our urgency to get to Dean’s car. It’s parked on the other side of town, but that doesn’t stop us. We run, our feet pounding the sidewalk, the early morning chill doing nothing to cool the fire surging through my veins.
Dean’s just ahead of me, his footsteps pounding against the pavement. When he speaks, his voice is tight. “There’s something you need to know.” He doesn’t look back, but I can hear the strain in his words, like he’s been holding them in too long. “Jenny…she broke into the house. Knocked me out cold and tried to go after Chad while he was hitting his first heat.”
The words crash into me, and I push myself harder, my pulse skyrocketing as I imagine what she did, what she might be capable of now. This isn’t just some unstable crush—she’s dangerous. And she’s got Lakelyn, too.
“Are you serious?” The anger rips out of me, a sharp edge undercut by a fear that digs deep, twisting my gut as I glance at him, catching the grim line of his mouth.
Dean nods, his jaw tight, picking up speed. “She was obsessed, Mason,” he says, his voice almost a growl. “When I came around, she had her hands all over him.”
“Hell,” I breathe, dread mixing with fury.
“The cops took her away, but they said they could only hold her for the night without charges being pressed by Chad. With the heat—” he trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish because I already know. Chad wouldn’t have exactly been in the right state of mind to talk to the police.
I’m not sure how long we spent in the nest, each of us out of our minds with lust, but I’m sure it was long enough for her to return if she wanted. “Shit,” I say as my feet pound the ground harder.
“If she sees Lakelyn as an obstacle…”
He doesn’t have to finish his sentence; I know how he’d finish this one, too. The way she was treating Lakelyn at the coffee shop should have told me everything about her.
All I can think of is Lakelyn, her voice, her laugh, her stubborn determination. And the fact that she and Chad are in danger makes my blood roar, the bond tugging at me, relentless and furious.
Dean’s the first to reach the car. We barely pause as he slides into the driver’s seat, and I throw myself into the passenger side, slamming the door behind me. We’re speeding down the road seconds later, the tires screeching against the asphalt as we round the first corner.
Dean’s grip on the wheel is white-knuckled, his gaze intense, as he mutters, “We’ll get them back, Mason. Whatever it takes.”
And with every beat of my heart, I know that’s a promise I’m ready to keep.
The bond pulls us out of Blue Ridge, leading us straight toward Blairsville. It’s not a long drive, but at the speeds Dean’s pushing the car, it feels even shorter—just a blur of trees and winding roads stretching ahead of us. The sharp curves are the only things forcing him to ease up, but even then, he barely lets off the gas.
Dean’s knuckles are stark white against the wheel, his anger radiating through the bond like an open flame. I can feel mine rushing back to him, charging the air between us.
“We need to close the link,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “It’s better if they don’t feel us coming?—”
He gives a curt nod, his jaw clenched. Without another word, we both focus, pulling our emotions back, closing off the intensity of our anger so it won’t bleed through to them. This is for us to bear. They need only feel us when we’re right there—when it’s time for us to strike.
Time slows, each second stretching out painfully. My heart slams in my chest, each beat matching the growing pulse of their emotions through the bond.
“Jenny lives near here,” Dean says, his voice tight.
I shoot him a look.
“I know because she’s a member of the country club,” he adds, jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road as he floors the gas.
The connection draws us to a large house with a winding staircase leading up to a second-floor entrance. As soon as Dean stops the car, we’re out and taking the stairs two at a time. He reaches the door first and tries the handle. Locked, of course.
Dropping to one knee, I pull out my key ring, selecting a small tension wrench and a pick, the tools I keep for times I don’t care to explain.
Dean’s gaze sharpens on me, and he whispers, “What?—”
I raise a hand, signaling for silence, focusing on the lock as I angle my head, feeling for the subtle give, listening for the click.
The door eases open, revealing a small entryway before an elegant banister overlooking the open space below. To the right lies an unoccupied living area, the banister running the length of the room and leading to a sprawling spiral staircase that winds down to the first floor. Only the wealthy have a main entrance set on the second level.
Ignoring the stairs for now, I move quietly down the hallway, the plush carpet swallowing each step. At the end, we find a massive bedroom with a walk-in closet and an attached bathroom—bigger than both my mom's and sister's apartments combined.
The rooms are still empty. I can feel Chad and Lakelyn more distinctly now—Lakelyn’s hopeful spark faintly echoes through the bond while Chad radiates fierce determination. We move cautiously down the stairs, finding the first floor as deserted as the second.
Then, all at once, their emotions surge, raw and overpowering. The intensity slams into me just as a sharp scream pierces the air, snapping our focus. Without hesitation, Dean and I throw open the basement door and charge down the steps, adrenaline spiking with each pounding footfall.
It takes a second for the scene to sink in. Chad stands with a knife pressed to Jenny’s throat, his face twisted in a fierce snarl. Lakelyn’s tied to a chair beside them, her wide eyes fixed on the two of them, unblinking.
“You messed with the wrong omega, bitch,” Chad growls. “Did you really think I wanted you? Did you think I’d choose you over my pack? I pity flirted with you. An old, single alpha…you think I would settle for you?”
“Drop the knife,” Jenny barks, her voice sharp with command.
Chad’s smile unfurls slowly, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he tightens his grip on the handle. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” He laughs, never taking his eyes off her face. His smile turns razor-sharp as he tilts his head, defiance flashing in his eyes. “Too bad for you, Jenny. There are only two alphas I’d ever listen to—and neither one of them is you.”
That’s my cue. I step forward, my voice cutting through the tension. “Then it’s a good thing we’re here now. Before we have a mess to clean up.”
Not that I wouldn’t love to see her bleeding out on the cement of her basement floor, but the price would be too high.
Jenny’s head snaps toward me, shock flaring in her eyes as Dean swiftly moves in, his grip firm as he restrains her before she can react. I cross over to Chad, placing a steady hand over his and gently guiding the knife from his grip, setting it safely aside. His fingers linger for a heartbeat before he lets it go, his shoulders just barely easing.
“You came,” he whispers, the realization settling over him, his eyes glassy as he looks up at me. Gently, I let my fingers brush along his cheek, checking for any sign of injury. His wrists are raw, but aside from that, he seems physically okay.
“We’ll always come,” I murmur, letting my voice carry the truth between us. Chad’s gaze softens, and he shifts, turning to where Lakelyn is bound. He leans in, freeing her quickly, and as her hands come loose, she falls into his arms, wrapping herself around him tightly. Relief floods his expression, and he presses his forehead to hers, grounding them both in that moment.
After a moment, he pulls back, looking at us with a fierce determination in his eyes. “I could have saved us,” he says, his voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability that lingers.
"I don’t doubt it," I say with a faint smile, meeting Chad’s gaze. But the smile fades as I turn to Jenny, who’s still held tightly by Dean. Without breaking stride, I pick up the rope that had bound Lakelyn and step over to them. With swift, sure movements, I secure Jenny’s hands behind her back, knotting the rope tightly. “Dean, call the police.”
“You broke into my house and tied me up. You really think the police are going to take your side?” Jenny laughs, the unhinged edge in her voice breaking through.
“I’m pretty sure kidnapping our omegas gives us a damn good reason to have broken into your house,” Dean growls, pulling out his cell phone. “You’re lucky we don’t drag you into the forest and leave you there to rot.”
“I vote for that option,” Chad adds, his voice hard. “She actually thought I’d cut my mark off Lakelyn.”
I glance at Chad, and he meets my gaze with unwavering resolve. It’s hard not to agree with him. But she isn’t worth the risk of jail. Not when I’ve finally found my pack. I won’t lose any of them. I’ll never understand how my father could have just walked away from my mom all those years ago.
As Dean makes the call, I move Jenny to one of the support poles in her basement and wrap another rope around her waist, tying her to it. It’s all a blur until the police arrive to hull her away and take our statements.
As we exit the house, Lakelyn curls into my side, while Chad does the same with Dean. I just need to hold both of them for the next few months to make sure they are both really okay.