Chapter 8
eight
Wren
Wren’s heart pounds painfully in his chest as he stares at the closed front door.
An omega? They sent a fucking omega to confirm Charles is gone? How lower can the Rossis go?
He breathes in and out waiting for the sound of her car, but there is only the rain pattering down on the roof.
Where the fuck is the rest of my pack?
The omega had left him discombobulated, stupefied. When he opened the door to her, in buns and overalls with a splattering of freckles and bright blue eyes? She had stolen his entire attention.
But then he had seen the mark.
She’s mated. And a Rossi.
He hadn’t scented her. She must have been covering it with something, but that didn’t matter.
She is evil. Just like all of the Rossis.
Wren shakes his head attempting to clear his thoughts, to push down his urges begging him to check on her. His hand reaches for the knob to do just that.
An engine turning over comes from outside.
Decision made, he whips the door open, just as she turns around and begins her drive away. Her headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the poor weather conditions.
A spark of understanding hits him.
It isn’t raining.
It’s snowing.
This time he cannot control his instincts as he yanks the truck keys off the wall and runs for the door.
He glances behind him, towards the back of the house, to the barn and cabin where he knows his pack mate is holed up. Instead, he tugs his phone from his pants to call the other.
The phone doesn’t even ring once before loud static cuts through. Wren pulls the speaker from his ear a bit, but doesn’t pause as he makes his way to the carport and then to the truck.
“Pierce, where are you?” Wren demands.
“No hello? Did you know it’s snowing? In fucking Florida? And it’s supposed to for the next few days.” Pierce laughs, his voice echoing. It’s clear he’s using his Bluetooth helmet for this call.
“You’re riding your bike in this? Where are you?” Wren is speeding away from their home now.
I have to stop her. She’s going to get hurt.
“I’m almost home, going to walk the motorcycle up the hill. Wouldn’t want to drive up it in this.”
“Listen, there’s a girl leaving our house. She isn’t going to know how dangerous that hill is. I’m trying to catch up to her, but in case—”
There’s a loud crash through the phone, followed by swearing, and then silence as the call disconnects.