Chapter 46 Warren
WARREN
Warren woke to a pounding headache and his mouth tasting gross. Morning light shone through the window, and as he lifted his arm to shield his eyes, it took him a moment to remember where he was and why he felt like shit.
He couldn’t believe that he’d been assaulted by some military asshole.
Reaching up, he winced at the feel of the large bump above his right eyebrow. It was tender to the touch and sore, and the skin was scabbed over where he had bled.
He lowered his hand.
Glancing to his left, Warren jerked in surprise to see another person in the room with him. The man was Max-shaped, with shorter hair, dressed in camo fatigues and tan boots.
“You’re awake,” the man said, sporting a serious expression.
There was no scar on the man’s nose, so it wasn’t Brendan.
“Dave?” Warren guessed.
“Caleb,” the man said. He walked over and crouched down in front of Warren, taking a pen-light from his jacket pocket and shining it in Warren’s eyes. “Any nausea or dizziness?”
Warren shook his head. “Just a headache.”
“Follow my finger.”
Warren watched the man move his finger side to side and up and down across his face.
“You’ll be fine,” Caleb said and put the light back into his pocket. “You have a concussion, but you’re through the worst of it.”
“What’s going on?” Warren asked.
Everything was so out of control. When they’d all been on the plane, heading home, it had felt like they were safe. Warren had been excited to see his mates and to introduce them to his sister, and he’d been looking forward to watching Max meet his brothers.
Then the flight had been diverted and Brendan and all the others had acted like there was nothing they could do.
“We don’t know. Communications have been cut and cellphone coverage is being blocked. The general is negotiating with your alpha – we think – but Brendan says he isn’t getting anywhere.”
A second Max-shaped person walked through the door, scowling and looking furious. Warren was pretty sure that it was Dave.
“We should steal a helicopter,” Dave declared.
Caleb shook his head. “They’d shoot us down.”
“They would try,” Dave growled, crossing his arms. “It’s better than sitting here and waiting for them to decide how to get rid of us.”
“The general will reach a deal with the alphas and things will go back to normal.”
Dave looked at Caleb like he was an idiot. “We are an embarrassing violation of the treaty between humans and werewolves. They will get rid of us and sweep the fact that we ever existed under the rug. It’s in everyone’s best interest.”
“The general wouldn’t allow it.”
Dave clenched his teeth in frustration. “The general doesn’t give a shit about us.”
“He does,” Caleb insisted.
It looked like an old argument.
“You are so stupid if you think that we’re anything more to him than-”
A sound like a shot ringing out in the distance made everyone jolt, their faces all turning to the window. The sound was followed by more shots, and within seconds the sound of gunfire filled the air.
Warren hunched down. He glanced at the werewolves, his heart pounding as he wondered what was happening.
“Stay here,” Caleb instructed, growling at Dave when he looked like he was about to object. “If the alpha’s mate dies, we’re all fucked. Keep him safe.”
Dave nodded, locking the door after Caleb exited and taking up a position next to the window. He looked tense, glancing outside as the sound of gunfire continued.
“What’s going on?” Warren asked. The sound of gunfire came closer and he sank down to the floor, sitting with his back up against the side of the bed.
“I don’t know,” Dave said. “It sounds like we’re under attack. I’m guessing your alpha got tired of negotiating.”
Hope flared in Warren’s chest, followed quickly by worry. Gunfire meant fighting, and not the werewolf kind. Marcus could get hurt.
Dave went still at the sound of boots trampling down the hallway outside, his body tense and prepped for action.
“Into the bathroom,” he instructed, grabbing Warren and hauling him to his feet and shoving him through the door. He slammed it shut, and a second later Warren heard the crash of the front door being knocked down.
There was another crash, like two bodies colliding, and then Marcus’s familiar voice growling, “Submit.”
Three seconds of silence followed, and then the bathroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges and Marcus was standing there.
Dressed all in black, with a bulletproof vest strapped to his chest and two guns holstered to his thighs, his gaze zeroed in on Warren with intense focus, cataloging every detail in the blink of a second.
He grabbed a radio from his belt and lifted it to his mouth. “I have Warren. Rendezvous at the drop-point.”
“My sister-”
“She’s safe.” Marcus walked forward and picked Warren up, squeezing him against his broad chest and pressing his nose into his hair. “You’re both safe.”
The bulky fit of Marcus’s vest made the hug uncomfortable, but Warren didn’t care. He breathed in the comforting scent of Marcus’s body, feeling safe for the first time since everything had gone to hell.
“I want to go home,” he mumbled.
“We’re leaving now,” Marcus said, kissing his temple. He carried Warren out of the bathroom, shifting him over so that he was holding him with just one arm.
There were four unfamiliar werewolves crowding the room, dressed in the same black tactical gear as Marcus, looking alert and ready.
Dave was on the floor, a shell-shocked look on his face.
Marcus nudged him with the tip of his boot. “Get up.”
“Base is secured,” a voice crackled over the radio on Marcus’s belt. “Taylor has been apprehended. Instructions?”
Marcus lifted his radio to his mouth. “Proceed as planned.”
“What does that mean?” Dave asked. He still hadn’t climbed to his feet.
The radio came alive with the crackle of a gunshot.
“It means that he’s dead,” Marcus said. He walked toward the door, three of the unfamiliar werewolves falling into position around him while the fourth grabbed Dave and hauled him up.
Dave swayed. “Dead? He can’t be dead. He’s the general.”
“Not any more,” Marcus grunted. He squeezed Warren tighter, lifting him up and sniffing his hair every few seconds.
Warren didn’t know how he felt about Marcus casually ordering a man’s execution, except that he didn’t feel bad.
“Come on,” Marcus said, his gruff voice turning gentle. “Let’s get you home.”
Secure in Marcus’s arms, Warren leaned his head on his mate’s shoulder and closed his eyes.