20. Morgan #2
But only Morgan’s scent, which would make sense if they’ve separated them. We’ve not seen a soul in the forest so far, so I take a chance and shift back. Jet and Cal do the same.
“Thoughts?” I whisper as loud as I dare.
“I don’t like it.” Jet frowns. “Why only Morgan’s?”
I voice my theory about them being separated, but Cal shoots it down.
“That’d take twice the numbers to guard them.” He closes his eyes and inhales. “It’s so faint. Like...” When he opens his eyes, he’s frowning. “Like he ran through the forest brushing up against things. Or someone did it for him.”
“You think Birch left us a scent trail?” Would he be that obvious?
Cal shrugs. “I think we assume he knows about Beth’s phone and that we’re gonna come for them. And he’ll also know we’ll think it’s a trap. What’s he got to lose by leading us right to him? It’s not like we’re not going to follow it?” He raises his eyebrow as if to add, Right?
I’m pretty sure what he said makes sense, but I’m struggling to think with Morgan’s scent on the air.
Doesn’t matter if its faint or not, it’s there.
A tease to my heightened senses and it’s messing with my head.
“Of course we’re gonna follow it.” As for the rest of it?
I guess we’re expecting Birch and his pack to be waiting at the other end.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Cal reminds me as we dress and set off in human form. It’s a risk, our senses aren’t as sharp like this, but one I’m willing to take. Something tells me we’re going to need the ability to talk.
Without our base animal instincts to fall back on, it’s slow going. Every step needs that extra bit of caution.
Stay down wind.
Watch where we walk.
Scan the forest for any sign of FBs.
It’s fucking exhausting.
Even with the heat of the day fading, a sheen of sweat coats my skin. Cal and Jet aren’t doing much better. Goddess help us, we’re a flashing beacon of scents for anyone close by.
It feels like we’ve been walking for hours, even though I know it’s been less than thirty minutes since we shifted back, when Cal grips my shoulder.
He holds his phone out and taps the screen, showing me the message.
Our backup is about twenty minutes away from where we stashed our bikes. I’m about to respond when Jet taps my arm and points up ahead. In the fading light, Jet’s vision is sharper than either mine or Cal’s. I strain to see what he sees, but there’s nothing but trees.
When I shake my head, he grabs Cal’s phone and types out a message.
Group of people up ahead.
The wind must’ve changed because I can’t smell anything but us and the surrounding forest. I can’t fucking see anything either, but Jet’s grip tightens when I go to move closer.
He shakes his head, and I bare my teeth.
I’m two seconds away from shoving him off when I hear it.
“Call for him,” Birch orders, not even trying to keep his voice down.
“No,” Morgan snaps. My hands curl into fists at the fear and rage held in that one word.
“Do it,” Birch hisses. “Or you won’t like what comes next.”
Murmured voices follow, I can’t make out the words, but I’d recognise Beth and Flint anywhere. And I’d bet my life they’re telling Birch I’m going to kill him when I get my hands on him.
Because I am.
He yells at Morgan again, but he must refuse because Birch growls in frustration.
The silence that follows is deafening.
And then it’s not.
I feel Morgan’s scream in my fucking bones.
We might not be bonded, but my wolf reacts on instinct, rushing to the surface so fast the shift takes me by surprise in a way it hasn’t in years .
I stumble, struggling to adjust to the sudden change in my centre of gravity, and it’s only Jet grabbing me that stops me tripping over my own fucking paws.
Cal joins him, the pair of them somehow pinning me in place, and the roar barrels out of me, scaring birds in the surrounding trees.
In the back of my mind, I know that making noise is the last thing I should be doing, but I don’t care about anything but getting to Morgan and stopping whoever the fuck is causing him pain.
There’s another beat of unnatural silence in a forest that should be teeming with life, then mocking laughter echoes through the trees.
“I know you’re out there, Harper,” Birch shouts. “Why don’t you come and say hello.”
“ Lynx ,” Cal snaps. “Calm the fuck down and shift back. Now .”
No.
I turn and snap at him, intentionally missing his hands, but not by much. He doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t loosen his grip on me either. I’m both amazed and furious they’re managing to hold me back when I’m putting my whole body weight into pushing forward towards Birch.
Towards Morgan.
I snarl again and that fucking laughter rings out once more.
I want to rip his throat out and tear him into so many pieces his own pack won’t recognise him.
“Shift back,” Cal tries again. “Rushing in there like this could get them all killed.”
That stops me in my tracks, breaking through the red haze clouding my mind.
I shift back before it takes over again.
Neither Cal nor Jet relinquish their hold on me; they only adjust their grip.
“Our people are on their way.” Cal snarls. “Wait for fucking backup.”
“He won’t stop,” I hiss.
“If he was going to kill them, he’d have done it already.”
Maybe, but I can’t risk it.
I won’t.
“Don’t make me hurt him again, Harper,” Birch threatens, and my lip curls back over teeth that remain inhuman. “It’s no fun when they don’t fight back.”
“Motherfucker,” Jet curses, eyes meeting Callum’s, and I sense the change in their scents before they drop their hands from my arms.
I guess we’re not waiting now.
Cal shoves a pair of jeans at me. “Let’s go.”
We make it almost to the clearing when Morgan screams again. It’s long and drawn out, the shocked gasps of Beth and Flint followed immediately by roars of outrage. The sight that meets me through the trees stops me cold.
I’m aware of Jet and Cal beside me, saying something, but it’s white noise in my ears.
Birch lifts his head from Morgan’s neck, fangs coated a sickening dark red, and he fucking grins as he meets my gaze.
The scent of it hits me and my whole world collapses.
He bit him.
Deep and with intent.
Magic taints the air, building steadily as Morgan’s body prepares for the change.
“You broke the hunter’s number one rule,” I grind out, barely holding myself together. “Maybe I’ll let them kill you instead.”
Birch shrugs like it doesn’t matter. Then he lets Morgan go, dropping him to the ground like he’s nothing.
Something inside me snaps.
Rational thought vanishes and pure instinct takes over. Alpha strength surges through my body, lighting me up with incandescent fury, yet I feel an odd sense of calm as I step into the clearing.
I catch sight of Mal slumped against a tree, unmoving, and Flint props up a now-unconscious Beth, blood running down the side of her face. When the fuck did that happen? Flint’s eyes meet mine, the murder in them matching my own.
Four FBs stand behind Birch, silver-edged blades visible on all of them. They’re coated with aconite—I can smell it from here. Nervous gazes dance between them, but Birch’s eyes don’t leave me.
“You should’ve bitten him when you had the chance.” He kicks Morgan’s limp body, then shrugs. “Oh well. I guess he’s mine now.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” I’m surprised at the lack of emotion in my voice, when inside I’m bubbling over with it.
Birch laughs. “You sure about that?” He pulls out his knife and gestures to the rest of my pack, and only now do I take in more detail. Mal’s arm lies at an unnatural angle, fucking bone visible, and both Beth and Flint are on their knees, cuffed. “Reckon I’ve got the upper hand here.”
“You think I came alone?” I ask, even as Callum and Jet emerge from the trees either side of me.
Birch doesn’t react. Not a surprise then.
He grabs Flint’s hair, yanking his head back and setting the knife at his throat. “Doesn’t matter. Any of you take one step closer and I’ll slit his throat so deep, even your blood won’t save him.
The faint rumble of bikes sounds in the distance.
Us or theirs?
I’ve no fucking clue until Callum’s phone chimes. He has the balls to get it out of his pocket while we’re in the middle of a standoff and read the message. His fierce grin tells me everything I need to know.
Five minutes , he mouths.
“Drop the blades and walk away,” I tell the four FBs flanking Birch, “and I might let you live.” I level my gaze at Birch. “You’re fucking dead either way.”
“Birch?” Four uneasy pair of eyes land on him.
He ignores them. “This far out,” he says instead, lifting his knife and admiring it. “You’ll never get the antidote in time.”
Motherfucker .
It happens so fast.
I lunge for him at the same time as he flips the knife around and lets it fly far quicker than I anticipate.
Momentum carries me forward as the blade spins through the air towards me.
I dodge, hoping to take it in the side rather than the heart, but a blur of movement barrels in from the side and I’m hit by Callum instead as he falls back into me, the hilt of the blade sticking out from his chest.
No. No, no, no, no.
I slump to the floor, Cal a dead weight in my arms.
“Get the van ready,” Birch orders the FB closest to him. “ Now ,” he roars when no one moves.
“What about them?” He points to Beth and Flint.
“Leave them,” Birch snaps. “They only wanted the human.”
I don’t have time to worry what that means, because Cal groans, low and agonised.
“Cal?” I urge, setting him on the ground, Jet rushing to his side. “ Cal? ”
“M’okay,” he grits out, not opening his eyes. He’s not. That blade’s too fucking close to his heart.
“Can’t save them both,” Birch taunts, and I look up to find him hauling Morgan upright. Blood still trickles from the vicious bite mark at the base of his throat, but its already healing. The smell lingers in the air, though. Birch’s scent now layered over Morgan’s.
I fucking hate it.