24. Morgan #2
“What about you?”
“I’ll take one of theirs.” Grey points to the vehicles behind us. “The council don’t know what cars we drive.”
We leave Grey to do whatever it is he has to do before members of the hunter council arrive. I couldn’t give a shit right now. Flint jogs ahead, leaving me and Lynx on our own again.
As we pick our way through the trees, the cuts Fox gave me throb with each step, but I grit my teeth against the pain. At least I’m alive.
Unlike Luke.
I pull Lynx to a stop as it hits me all over again. “Wait.”
He’s dead.
Killed in that fucking fight ring while I get to walk away. I can’t...
Whatever Lynx sees on my face, it’s enough to make him grab my shoulders, eyes flashing. “What’s wrong?”
“There was another shifter. Luke.” My breath catches as I picture him back in the cage before they took him.
“He came here with me. Helped me.” I’m hit by a wave of guilt so strong my knees almost give out.
“He went first. To the fight ring,” I add, even though understanding’s written all over Lynx’s face. “He never came back.”
“Fuck.” He tugs me in close, one hand on my back, the other in my hair. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
It’s a few minutes later when I ask, “Can you ask Grey if they find his body? I want...” My voice breaks, and I swallow around the sudden thickness.
“I want to bury him. And maybe try and find out where he was from in case anyone’s missing him.
” It’s an awful fucking thought, but I’d want to know if it was me.
Lynx turns and kisses my temple. “Yeah, of course. I’ll let him know.” He pulls out the phone Flint gave him earlier, messaging Grey, I presume. I don’t ask.
Jet and Beth meet us before we reach the bikes and Grey’s car.
I return Jet’s up-nod, but I’m caught off guard when Beth rushes forward and wraps me up in a hug, and it takes me a second or two to hug her back.
She wrinkles her nose when she pulls away. “No offence, Morgan, but you smell like shit.” Before I point out it’s not fucking surprising, all things considered, she adds, “You smell like a Feral Beast.”
My hand goes to my throat. Fuck me , with everything else going on, I’d forgotten.
Lynx growls, low and sharp.
Beth raises her eyebrows at him. “How are you not losing your shit right now?”
I glance between them. “What do you mean?”
She sighs. “Sorry, I forgot for a second that you’re new to all this.” She gestures to my throat. “Birch bit you, so you’re part of his pack. To be honest, I’m surprised you can stand to be around so many of us.”
I shrug. “I don’t...” Now that she’s brought it up, I take a deep breath in and, huh.
“You don’t smell bad, exactly. I don’t know now how to describe it.
Weird, maybe.” I trace the scar Birch’s bite left, and Lynx growls again.
When I glance at him, his gaze is fixed on my throat, teeth bared, and his hands clench into tight fists at his sides.
“Times your weird feeling by a thousand, and that’s how Lynx feels right now, except he’s an alpha and you’re his mate, so it’s worse. So much worse.”
“Hurry the fuck up,” Flint says as he walks over, then points a finger at me. “We need to give him a dose of antidote for those cuts, and we need to get the other one back to Corey.”
“Other one?” Lynx narrows his eyes. “Who?”
Flint shrugs a shoulder. “No idea, he’s still out of it.”
Hope sparks inside me at the same time Lynx growls, “Human or shifter?”
“Shifter,” Flint says, like Lynx is an idiot. “One of Fox’s minions was about to off him, so we took him off their hands.” He grins, all teeth, and I’m pretty sure that means the hunter’s dead.
Good.
“Can I see him?” I don’t want to get my hopes up. There could’ve been others fighting tonight, so it doesn’t mean it’s him.
“If you let me jab you with the antidote at the same time.”
“Done.”
My heart bangs against my ribs as I follow Flint to the back of the SUV parked up ahead.
He makes me stand still while he injects me, and holy fuck, that stings like a bitch as it enters my bloodstream.
I’m still adjusting to it when he opens the back door, and then the pain takes a back seat when I catch sight of familiar dark curls.
They’re matted with blood, and his body is a fucking mess, but he’s alive. I lean in as far as I can without touching him and whisper, “Luke?” I don’t expect him to wake up, but his eyes flutter open.
“Hey,” he manages, lips curving up into a smile. “You’re not dead.”
I don’t realise I’m crying until a tear hits my lips. “Neither are you.”
He groans. “Feel it.”
“Which is why we need to get on the road and get you some help,” Flint grumbles. “You can catch up later, when he’s not in danger of actually fucking dying.”
Luke’s eyes close again, and Flint tugs me backwards, closing the SUV door. “Seriously, we need to get going.” He does a sweep of my body and frowns. “You want to travel with him? Those cuts might pull on the back of Lynx’s bike.”
Oh.
I didn’t realise that was an option.
I look behind to find Lynx watching me, not even trying to hide the vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s okay if you want to.” His voice is gravel rough, like the words cost him.
I think back to what Beth said. How it must feel for him to smell Birch all over me. If it was the other way around— A wave of possessiveness crashes over me, and I can’t fucking finish that thought.
I need him.
More than any antidote.
I need to be near him, to touch him, to smell him, even if he smells slightly wrong right now. He’s still mine . I don’t care how fucking uncomfortable it is, the thought of not doing any of that for the next hour or so makes me want to claw my skin off.
But will it be okay for him?
Ignoring everyone else, I walk over to stand in front of him and deliberately touch the marks on my neck. “Will this bother you?”
He bares his teeth.
“I want to ride with you, I need to, but not if it’s going to hurt you to be that close to me.”
“It hurts me to fucking look at it.” He screws his eyes shut, blocking it out, and my heart sinks.
“But you’re still mine,” he whispers, echoing my thoughts and capturing my gaze again.
There’s a new fierceness to his eyes that grips my heart and yanks it back up.
“Nothing can change that. Especially not fucking Birch .” He holds out a hand. “You ride with me.”
“Well, all right then.” Flint claps his hands, but I don’t look at him.
I only have eyes for Lynx as I take his hand and let him lead me through the trees to where they stashed their bikes. I’ve never ridden on the back of one before, pretty sure it’s not the done thing, but I don’t give a fuck, and neither does Lynx.
Yes, my wounds pull as I climb on behind him, the aconite making me slow to heal. I can already tell it’s going to be a long, uncomfortable ride back, but as we pull out onto the road and lead the way home, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
LYNX
“You’ve got ten minutes,” I grit out, already feeling the tug of separation. “Then I’m gone.”
We aren’t bonded. We aren’t even the same pack —a fact that cuts through me every time I catch his scent. But it makes no fucking difference. The need to be with Morgan is overwhelming. Goddess help me if we ever— No. I’m not going there.
“How’s he doing?” Flint asks, but everyone else around the table pays attention.
How d’you fucking think? I don’t say that though. They all know what he went through, and not one of them takes that shit lightly. “Better than I expected.” Then because I’m thinking it, I add, “Or maybe it’s not really sunk in yet.”
Jet lets out a low whistle. “Wouldn’t blame him. It’s a fucking lot to get your head round.”
He’s not wrong.
Kidnapped.
Bitten and turned against his will by the same cunt that left him for dead in the forest.
Then put in a fight ring and tortured.
I have to close my eyes and take a fucking moment.
Callum’s scent hits me before I feel hands on my shoulders, and I relax instead of snapping at him. He doesn’t say anything, just draws me in so our foreheads touch, and his fingers tighten, grounding me until the urge to kill something passes.
Then he returns to his seat as if nothing happened.
I open my eyes, but I’m met with nothing but understanding, and I almost buckle under the weight of it.
I love every fucker in this room, more than I can ever say.
“What about the other guy?” Mal asks, breaking the silence. “Has Corey finished with him?”
“Yeah.” I sit down, relieved to have something else to focus on, and this is an easy one to answer. “He’ll heal, but it’ll take time. They almost killed him in the ring.”
“What are we gonna do with him?” Jet this time. His face gives nothing away, and he has his scent locked down tight now.
This one’s a little harder to answer, because Luke’s important to Morgan. “I don’t know. For now, he’s not going anywhere. He’s still unconscious, so we’ll have a better idea about things when he wakes up.”
“You thinking about letting him stay?” There’s nothing in Jet’s tone that says he’s opposed to the idea, and a quick glance around the table tells me no one else is either. But it’s not my call this time.
I know Morgan wants him to stay, but it’s not up to him either.
“I’m thinking we need to talk to him when he wakes up and take it from there.
” That’s greeted with nods from around the table.
For all we know, Luke has family, a pack, waiting for him somewhere.
“Anything else that can’t wait?” I don’t bother to hide my need to get back to Morgan.
There’s no point when they can all smell the desperation on me.
“You gonna bite him?” Jet raises both eyebrows when I snarl at him. “Everyone’s thinking it. They’re just too fucking polite to say anything.”
Probably true.
And I can always rely on Jet to not give a fuck about niceties.
“He smells like FB’s,” he adds, like I’m not fucking aware. “I don’t know how you’re not going mental every time you get near him.”