20. Morgan
MORGAN
“What the fuck is going on here?” Birch roars as he enters the clearing.
The three Feral Beasts freeze.
And so do I.
Mal’s now slumped against the tree, blessedly still unconscious, but while the FBs were otherwise occupied, Flint’s been trying to unpick the ropes around my wrist. It’s awkward as fuck, trying to hide what we’re doing, but he almost had it.
I shove my hands down between my legs as Birch comes closer.
“I repeat,” he snarls, “what the fuck are you doing?” He points at Beth. “Where are her fucking cuffs?”
Beth laughs as she pushes herself up off the floor, blood staining her teeth. Her fangs . For someone who seemed so playful and easy-going when I first met her, she’s fucking terrifying now.
“They thought they’d teach me a lesson,” she scoffs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
She’s got a dislocated shoulder, slash marks over her neck and chest, a split lip, and a cut across her left cheek.
But even as she stands there, I can see her healing.
With the cuffs no longer repressing her wolf, everything else has kicked back in and her injuries from the crash are long gone.
The three FBs are also healing, their injuries matching Beth’s. They’re fucking huge though, and I’m still in awe over how she took on all three of them and held her own.
“You fucking idiots.” Birch marches up to the nearest FB and punches him so hard, he flies backwards and hits a tree with a sickening crunch. “She played you.”
Instead of grabbing Beth, Birch pulls a knife and walks back over to Flint. He sets the blade at his throat. “Put your fucking cuffs back on or I slit his throat.”
She hesitates.
Flint closes his eyes and tilts his chin, like he’s already accepted his fate, and my stomach sinks to the floor. I’ve not known him long, but fuck it, he’s grown on me. I can’t sit here and do nothing while Birch kills him right next to me.
As discreetly as I can, I slide my hands out of the ropes binding them together.
“Try it,” Birch says, voice deceptively soft. “See how far you get.”
It takes a second for me to realise he’s talking to me. My hands are still hidden by my legs. There’s no way he can see them from where he stands. I don’t get chance to try and run for it before hands haul me to my feet, one of the other FBs gripping my arms so tightly my eyes water.
I grit my teeth and look at Beth.
She’s the only one who’s free. I don’t know if she could outrun Birch or the others, or if they’ll kill Flint or the rest of us if she tries, but then maybe they’ll kill us all anyway.
Go , I mouth, but she shakes her head, her gaze darting between me, Flint, the other FBs still standing, and Birch.
“Your choice,” Birch croons. “We’ll even give you a head start. But Flint dies the second you run.”
“They’re gonna kill us anyway,” Flint says, resigned.
Birch laughs. “Maybe.” He tilts the knife so the fading light catches it through the trees. There’s a sheen of something on it. “But if I do it now, I won’t go deep enough to kill him right away. I’ll let the aconite do that. Slowly and painfully. You’ll be able to hear his screams as you run.”
“Beth...” Flint tries, but she shakes her head and offers him a small smile.
“I’m not leaving you to die like that.” She turns so quickly, she’s a blur of movement, slamming her shoulder into the tree behind, her howl echoing around the trees.
Her shoulder.
She rubs the joint before bending to grab the cuffs from the forest floor. “You swear you won’t slit his throat the second I put these back on?”
“On the Goddess,” he says, deadly serious. “But I make no promises for later.”
With a defeated sigh, she snaps the cuffs onto her wrists. The second they’re on, Birch stalks over to her and backhands her across the face. It’s not as hard as he punched his own pack member, but she still falls to the ground, spitting blood.
In that moment, I wish Birch had turned me. I wish I could shift, wish I had claws and fangs, because I want to tear him apart.
He turns to me, smiling like he can read my mind. His gaze drops to my throat, to the bite mark he left there. “You want me to turn you, Morgan?” He reaches out to trace over the mark, pressing down enough to make me flinch. “Want to have the strength and the weapons to fight me?”
Yes.
A thousand times yes.
The thought stalls in my head as his fangs slide out.
Oh fuck. Is he ? —
“I could,” he says, stroking the mark over and over.
I feel sick.
“They wouldn’t be happy, but I could say it was an accident. When it’s done, it’s done. There’s no going back.”
I want to ask who wouldn’t be happy, but my mouth won’t work.
“Then you’d be mine.” He smirks, dark eyes shining in delight at that prospect.
I shudder. And okay, fine, I’ve changed my mind. “I’d rather die.”
His eyes narrow, thumb trailing lower to rest on my collarbone.
“Maybe you’ll get your wish.” He steps away and faces his men.
“The others are on their way. Guard these.” He points a finger at us one by one.
“Tie him back up. And if you let any of them out of their restraints again, I’ll kill you my fucking self. ”
“They’ll come for us,” Beth says before Birch can walk off.
His smirk doesn’t falter. “I’m counting on it. Why else do you think we let you keep your phone?”
She pales, and he laughs.
“Did you think you were subtle?” He pulls out his own phone to check the time. “Depending how long it took them to realise your phone wasn’t among the ones we trashed, they should be here in the next hour.”
“With all of our fucking pack,” Beth hisses back.
This time Birch turns around and walks back over to her. He still has that knife in his hand, and I flinch as he sets it just below her eye.
Beth doesn’t so much as twitch.
“Your pack are on their way, but they won’t get here in time. We all know Harper won’t have the patience to wait. He’ll want to see for himself that you’re all alive. If he decides to do that from a distance, we’ll just have to draw him out.”
He stands, but one of the FBs catches him before he sets off back down the track. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” he grits out. “The human and whoever was with him, that was the deal.”
Birch whirls and pins him to the nearest tree by his throat. “Shut your fucking mouth. If we give him Lynx and the cat,” he hisses, “then our debt is fucking paid.”
The other FB is either brave or stupid, because he lifts his chin. “Is it? Or will they find something else to hang over our fucking heads?”
It’s like they suddenly realise they have a captive audience, literally, because they both straighten and glance our way.
“Unless you want to join them”—Birch nods in our direction—“keep quiet and do your fucking job.” He turns and marches off, and I draw in a shaky breath, mind spinning with everything that exchange could mean.
The three FBs take up position behind us. All of them within striking distance, if we so much as twitch.
I want to ask the others what they think, but not with the FBs listening to our every word.
“Now what?” I ask instead, dropping to the floor next to Flint.
Flint sighs, head resting back against the tree behind him. “Now we wait.” He closes his eyes before gently nudging me with his knee. “It’ll be okay, Morgan.”
Will it?
As much as I want Flint to be right, I really don’t think it will.
Judging by the snorts from behind me, neither do the FBs.
LYNX
We abandon our bikes about two miles from where we think Beth and the others are. Jet hides them as best he can, but I don’t give a fuck. Someone can steal mine for all I care.
The forest is thick here, and we’re as downwind as we can possibly be, but there’s always a chance Birch has people out in the woods waiting for us.
Again, I don’t care.
I need to see them.
All of them.
The alpha in me needs to make sure my pack are alive at the very least. But the wolf? That primal force drawing me into those trees? That’s all about Morgan.
“Wait.” Cal grabs my arms and hauls me back.
I round on him, teeth bared, and he holds his hands up.
“Calm the fuck down or you’re gonna get us all killed.”
I could order him to get out of my way. Not gonna lie, it’s really fucking tempting, and judging by the way he squares his shoulders, he knows it too. “What?” I snap.
“They could have people in the woods waiting for us.”
My lip curls. “I know that.”
“We should wait for the others.”
“We’ve already been through this.” I grip his shoulders. “I can’t wait.” My forehead touches his, and he grabs the front of my jacket.
“Birch could have his whole pack with him in there.” He gives me a shake to underline his point. “They’ve already stabbed Flint once with an aconite blade. They’re gonna have more. We can’t rush in there and get fucking caught or we’re no good to anyone.”
He makes sense, but I don’t want to hear it. “What the fuck do you suggest?” I don’t remind him that waiting isn’t an option.
“We shift. And we go slow.” He leans back enough so our eyes meet. “And you don’t do anything stupid when we find them.” When I don’t answer, he growls, grabbing and shaking me hard. “Fucking promise me.”
Can’t do that. “If they’re in danger?—”
“Then we fight.” His fierce gaze bores into mine. “Together. You don’t fucking rush in there without a plan.”
“Fine.”
He nods once, then lets me go.
“You two done wasting time?” Jet scowls as we face him.
We strip in silence, shove our clothes into a rucksack that Cal carries in his teeth, and enter the forest on silent paws.
It’s quiet.
Too fucking quiet.
That alone tells me we’re heading towards something even the forest is scared of.
Fucking Birch.
He and his pack have done some fucked-up things but never anything like this.
I’m going to kill him.
Him and any other fucker who’s laid a hand on them.
Jet stops so suddenly I almost run into him. He snarls, teeth bared and menacing.
And then I smell it.
It’s faint, so fucking faint I might’ve missed it if Jet hadn’t stopped.
Morgan.