21. Morgan
MORGAN
Everything hurts.
It’s the first thought that pops into my head when I wake up. Quickly followed by the realisation that I’m now wearing handcuffs like the ones Flint and Beth had on.
Also, where the fuck am I?
I remember being dragged away by Birch before he gave up and tossed me over his shoulder. I remember being thrown into the back of a van. But I must’ve blacked out, because I don’t remember much else after we left the others, and oh god, Callum .
Fuck, I hope he’s okay.
I know shifters heal, but?—
Someone bangs on the side of the van, scaring the shit out of me. “Get them out.”
I instinctively flinch, then really wish I hadn’t when pain rockets throughout my whole body. I’m left gasping for air, hands curled into fists as it ever so slowly ebbs.
Jesus Christ.
“Yeah,” a voice says from behind me, making me jump again. “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
“Thanks,” I reply, sarcasm heavy. Fuck’s sake, I thought I was alone in here. Apparently not. Before I turn around to see who he is, the side door slides open.
It’s dark outside.
I don’t recognise where we are because all I can see are trees.
Another fucking forest.
Birch suddenly steps into view, accompanied by the other FBs from earlier. He stands off to one side and watches as the others reach into the van to drag us out. I don’t have the strength or the will to resist.
I almost blackout from the pain when they haul me to my feet.
They have to keep hold of me to keep me upright.
My head lolls forward, but hands grab my face and tilt it to the side. I don’t know who because I’ve got my eyes shut, but to be honest, I don’t fucking care. It’s not anyone I want it to be, so what difference does it make?
“He’s nearly through it,” Birch says, and I recoil as I realise it’s him touching me. I’ll swallow the pain if it means getting his hands off me. His thumb runs over the base of my throat. “The bite’s almost healed.”
A vehicle approaches and Birch drops my head so quickly, my vision swims. I sway forwards as nausea floods my system.
“Don’t you fucking dare puke,” someone hisses.
Trying not to, arsehole.
Car doors slam, and there’s a whispered, “Oh fuck,” from beside me. I think it’s my mystery-van friend.
Footsteps sound, getting closer and closer, but I keep my eyes closed and don’t bother to try and lift my head.
“What the fuck happened to him?”
I recognise that voice.
My head feels like cotton wool. There’s too much pain in my system to think clearly. To remember why it sounds so familiar.
“We ran into a bit of trouble,” Birch answers.
“How, exactly? You had the element of surprise. Kill the others and take Webb. It was that fucking simple.”
His name’s on the tip of my tongue.
Silence.
“ Did you kill the others?” the same guy asks.
“No.”
“For fuck’s sake, Birch.”
A low growl fills the air around us, and I snap my eyes open to see a knife pressed against Birch’s throat. Before I can laugh at the karma playing out in front of me, I see the face of the voice I couldn’t name.
Fucking hell.
Evan Fox.
Birch and the FBs are working with the hunters. I need to tell Lynx. I need to?—
Fox’s gaze snaps to mine like he read the thoughts running through my head. Then he looks down, eyes narrowing. “You fucking bit him?”
He whirls on Birch again, and two other hunters I hadn’t noticed before step up beside him. “I only wanted to scare him, you fucking idiot.”
Birch growls again, and I’m expecting him to attack Fox any second for speaking to him like that, but he doesn’t move an inch.
“Jesus Christ.” Fox runs a hand through his hair, knife waving about as he continues to rant at Birch. “I wanted to get him away from Harper and scare the shit out of him so he’d never come back this way.”
I laugh, can’t help it, although it sounds a little unhinged.
“Something funny?” Fox snaps.
“I was leaving.”
“What?”
“When Birch kidnapped me, I was leaving the Wild Wolves.”
“But you’re their prospect.” Fox frowns. “You were with the others, riding to see a neighbouring pack.”
“They were escorting me elsewhere. I wasn’t going to the Trenton pack. I was leaving the club for good.”
“Fuck.” Fox stares at me, gaze flicking down to the wound on my neck and back up again. “When did you bite him?” he asks Birch.
“About six hours ago.”
That long? I wonder again if Cal’s okay. If the others are. If they know where I am or if they’re even searching for me?
Fuck that, of course they are.
The way Lynx looked at me when Birch dragged me away... you can’t fake that. A pang of longing hits me so hard, my breath catches. I want him. I fucking need him, and the fact he’s not here hurts .
“How long till he’s done?” Fox asks, and I try and snap out of it, try to pay attention because this sounds important, but the ache in my chest is like nothing I’ve felt before.
Hollow.
That’s what it feels like.
This big empty space that I can’t fill.
“Soon,” is all Birch says.
Are they still talking about me, or did I zone out?
“What a fucking mess.” Fox starts to pace, pulling his phone out and messaging fuck knows who.
No one speaks.
Another wave of pain rolls through me and I slump forward, the sight of Fox walking back and forth making me feel ill all over again.
“Hey,” the guy from the van whispers. I glance up to see him watching me.
He’s got dark, curly hair and light grey eyes, but it’s his soft smile that catches my attention.
It’s warm, friendly in a way I really fucking need right now.
“It’ll be over soon. The pain,” he clarifies with another small smile.
“I don’t know about the rest of this shit, but you’re almost through the worst of the change. ”
“And then what?” I think of Nico. How he had no one to help him, to guide him. I overheard enough to know that it didn’t go the way it should’ve done. “I don’t know what to do?” I whisper, but the snorts from the FBs holding me up remind me that there’s no fucking privacy here.
“I’ll help you,” mystery guy says. “If I’m still with you.”
I send up a silent prayer that he is.
The thought of being alone with this is fucking awful.
“I’m Luke, by the way.”
“Morgan.”
I want to ask why he’s here, where he’s come from, but before I can, Fox marches over, phone in hand.
“Change of plan.” He glares at Birch. “We’re taking them both for the next ring match.”
Wait, what?
Luke curses softly next to me, and the FBs holding us seem suddenly uncomfortable.
“No,” Birch snaps, and it’s like everyone holds their breath, me included. I get the impression Fox isn’t someone used to having that word directed at him. “I bit him, he’s mine .”
“Fuck off,” I snap, but they both ignore me.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly.” Fox shoves his phone in his pocket and crosses his arms so his considerable muscles bulge.
“Didn’t think I fucking stuttered.”
My gaze swings to Birch again. He stands straighter, probably at least two inches taller than Fox, and makes a point of glaring down at him.
Fox smiles, and it’s so cold and predatory I want to take a step back, but I have nowhere to go. “We have an agreement, Birch.” He tsks and shakes his head. “Do I have to remind you what’ll happen if you go back on it?”
“No.” Birch snarls, eyes narrowing to almost slits as he looks at Fox like he wants to carve him into tiny pieces.
My gaze ping-pongs between Birch and Fox, and I have no clue who to be cheering for. Neither prospect seems appealing. Maybe they’ll fight and kill each other, then the others will let me and Luke go.
Fox waits him out, and just when I think this is going to go on forever, Birch caves.
“ Fine .”
I see the other FB shoot him looks varying from shocked to pissed off, but none of them say anything.
“Put them back in the van,” Fox orders, not even bothering to look at me or Luke. It’s like we’ve ceased to matter. “We’ll take it from here.”
We’re shoved back inside with about as much care as they dragged us out. The doors slam shut, plunging us into darkness, and it suddenly hits me how truly fucked I am. “Luke?” I whisper, aware that shifters are outside and can maybe hear us.
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared.”
He sighs, and I feel him shuffle to my side so that his thigh brushes mine. It’s nice, comforting, and I’ll take every little scrap I can get right now. “Me too.”
I want Lynx.
I want him in a way I don’t really understand, and I know it’s probably because I’m a shifter now or well on my way to being one, but that doesn’t change the bone deep yearning to have him by my side.
I want him to bite me , I think. To replace the teeth marks Birch left on me, because no matter what that fucker says, I am not his.
I’m not fucking anyone’s.
Maybe Lynx’s?
I don’t know, if I’m honest. But I’d like the chance to find out.
“Do you know where they’re taking us?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
“Yeah.” His head makes a dull thud as it hits the side of the van. “Maybe not the exact place, but seen one fight ring, you’ve pretty much seen them all.”
Fight ring .
Nico told me what happened to him, but he didn’t go into details.
I can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.
Maybe I’d be freaking out more right now if I knew exactly what was waiting for us.
“Have you...?” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
I need to know, no matter how much I might not want to. “Have you fought in one before?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice soft, weary.
The pain has started to tail off, I realise with a jolt. My blood no longer feels like acid flowing round my body, but I almost wish it did, because that would mean a bit of me was still human. I push that thought away. I can have a breakdown later. If I’m lucky.
Who knows where they’re taking us now. Could be hours or minutes away and I need to make the most of having Luke with me.
“Do people die in the ring?” Please say no. Please laugh like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.