Chapter 26 Rory
Rory
Paws strike earth. Hard. Fast. Rhythm pounds through bones.
Raindrops-lemongrass-mine fades behind. Distance hurts. Sharp ache in chest where warmth lives. Sad eyes watching me leave. Pain-scent rolling off him like smoke.
Can’t think about that. Can’t.
Run.
Heather scratches legs. Rocks cut pads. Don’t care. Body knows where to go even when mind fractures. Nose down. Breathe deep.
Blood-scent. Sharp copper threading through pine-earth-water smells. Fresh blood. Day-old blood. Same source. Same wolf.
Dev-friend-pack-save.
Trail weaves through bracken. Stronger now. Fear-sweat mingles with blood. Different wolf. Female. Young.
Isla-cousin-trust.
Something else underneath. Chemical-sharp. Wrong-smell. Burning nose-holes. Makes hackles rise.
Trees thin. Buildings ahead. Stone-concrete-metal stench. Human-place where death-smell clings thick as fog yesterday. Body remembers. Wants to turn. Run away.
But blood-trail leads forward.
Sound cuts through wind-whisper. Engine-growl. Wheels on dirt-stone. Getting closer.
Crouch low. Belly to ground. Peer through gorse bushes.
Buggy rolls slow between trees. Same one from arriving-time. Luggage-carrier. But no bags now.
Isla-cousin drives. Knuckles tight on steering. Fear-scent thick around her.
Blankets pile in back. Breathing underneath. Shallow-weak breathing only wolf-ears catch.
Dev.
Rage builds. Hot-red-sharp. How dare she. Pack-cousin-blood taking him.
Spring from bushes. Land hard in buggy’s path. Snarl rips from throat. Lips curl back. Show teeth. All of them.
Buggy jerks to stop.
Isla-cousin stares. No surprise-scent. Only resignation.
She knew. She heard me coming.
Heat floods limbs. Bones crack-pop-stretch. Skin burns as it changes. Pain shoots through skull as face reshapes. Always hurts more when angry.
Human thoughts rush back like dam bursting.
“Isla, what the fuck?!”
I was naked, standing in front of the buggy with fury that made my hands shake. She sat there, walkie-talkie held to her mouth. “Code red confirmed. Begin evacuation protocol, over.”
She dropped it into her lap.
“Where are you taking him?” I tried to sound demanding, but my voice came out hoarse.
She glanced back at the blankets where Dev’s barely breathing form lay hidden. When she looked at me again, her green eyes held something that might have been regret.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Safe?” I laughed, the sound bitter as burnt coffee. “Safe for who? What happened at the cottage? All that blood?”
“That wasnae supposed to happen.”
Cold air bit at my exposed skin as I stood there naked, goosebumps prickling up my arms. “Get out of the buggy!”
She shook her head, red hair catching sunlight filtering through the canopy.
“Get out, or I’ll bloody drag you out,” I threatened, taking a step closer.
She looked conflicted for a moment, jaw working as she weighed her options. Then she turned off the engine and climbed out, movements careful and deliberate.
“They’re coming to meet me,” she said.
I stared at her. “You mean Callum is?”
She nodded slowly. “And three other men.”
“Why are you working with Callum?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. “Is he forcing you to do this? Threatening you?”
She laughed, but it was hollow, bitter as burnt heather. “You’ve got it the wrong way around, cousin. I brought Callum into this mess.”
I just stared at her, mouth slightly open. The forest sounds—wind through leaves, distant bird calls—seemed muffled, like my ears were stuffed with cotton wool.
She sighed, shoulders sagging under some invisible weight. “You know I grew up believing my mother was murdered by our own pack.”
I shrugged. “That was never confirmed. Just rumours floating about.” Pack gossip claimed my father might have been involved, as she and Dad had clashed constantly before her death.
“Well, a couple of years ago, she got back in contact.”
“Got back in… contact?” My voice pitched higher. “Your mum is still alive?! Moira never died?”
Isla glanced behind her towards Dev’s motionless form, then into the distance.
“I won’t go into the specifics, but she faked her own death.
I spent years grieving her loss… it completely fucked me up.
” Anger sharpened her accent, made the words snap like breaking twigs.
“I was only thirteen… I mean, you remember. You were still here then. Anyway, she just merrily popped back up like nothing had happened.”
“Are you trying to tell me your mum is involved in all this?” My brain felt like it was going to explode.
A twisted smile curved her lips. “You could say that. She’s rather high up in GREY, actually.”
I blinked a few times. “Grey?”
“You know, G-R-E-Y, the unit Kit was part of. Mum was the one who organised for him to go, remember?”
“GREY? This… is all GREY? You’re GREY?”
Isla snorted. “I’m only a very tiny part of it.”
My head spun. The forest around us seemed to tilt sideways. “But… but… you’re meant to be studying medicine in Edinburgh. Why the fuck are you doing this, Isla? And Callum? You brought Callum in on it? I thought you thought he was a creep who was obsessed with you!”
Her face twisted with distaste. “He is a creep who’s obsessed with me! But I haven’t really been around the pack for years. I distanced myself when my mum came back. So I needed a solid link back in, and Edina trusts him.”
“So my mum has nothing to do with this?”
When Isla shook her head, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Small mercies, I supposed. My mother might be a terrible parent and an awful person, but at least she wasn’t a kidnapping, murderous psychopath.
“So you got him to get her to organise this multi-pack gathering tonight? So you could identify and capture prime candidates for whatever the fuck you’re doing? Were you just going to, what, walk up and grab them?”
“No, obviously there’s more to the plan than that,” she snapped. “But nobody from our pack will be taken,” she added. “Part of the deal I’ve made is that our pack will be protected.”
“Right. Great. Shame that warranty clearly didn’t cover ex-pack members’ ex-boyfriends.”
Isla flinched. “I am sorry about Dev.”
“Did you always know I was up here looking for him?”
“I guessed,” she admitted. “I saw pictures of you together when I did my social media crawl a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t believe it. Such bad luck.”
“This isn’t bad luck, Isla!” I gestured wildly at Dev’s motionless form. “Is Dev even okay?”
She sighed, running a hand across her face. “I tried at the cottage to bring Dev back under GREY control, but it didn’t work. His system has properly rejected the chip.”
“The chip?! Is that what you’ve put inside his skull?” I laughed, a horrible manic sound. “You’re putting chips inside wolves’ skulls to create controllable weapons for GREY.”
“Yes. And Dev’s chip malfunctioned,” she said, almost monotonously. Like she’d resigned herself to her fate of telling me everything.
“How did he even escape?” I demanded.
Isla glanced away. “It was a series of fuck-ups, honestly. Something went wrong with the sedation schedule. Two of the guards went up for a smoke break and decided to prop open the security door. They noticed a couple of hours later, but by that point he was miles away.”
“And what if he hadn’t escaped? What happens when the chip malfunctions? Because we found your burn site yesterday. There was a shit tonne of ashes there.”
Guilt flashed across her features. “That was all meant to have stopped by now. The compatibility tests are supposed to be one hundred percent accurate. That’s what Meridian promised. But they’re liars. That’s one of the reasons Mum—”
“Stop. I don’t care about that right now. Why is Dev’s blood all over the cottage?”
“When Dev understood what I was trying to do to him, we both shifted and fought.” She pulled down her T-shirt—underneath, a horrible gash stretched across her collarbone, still slowly closing.
“It was a pretty even fight, except that I’d tranqed him five seconds before I shifted.
But he didn’t drop straight down. And I had to defend myself. ”
From the buggy, crackling erupted from Isla’s walkie-talkie. Callum’s voice, asking, “Do you copy?”
“They’re close,” she said quietly, eyes scanning the treeline. “Rory, you need to run.”
“What? You’d really just let me walk away from this?”
Her eyes softened, and for a moment she looked like the girl I remembered from childhood—the one who used to sneak extra pudding to me when the adults weren’t looking.
“We’re similar, you and me,” she said. “Both hate the pack. Both rejected their precious traditions.” A sad smile tugged at her lips.
“I’ve always admired your choice to leave.
Thought of you fondly over the years, actually.
You had the balls to do what I never could. Never could officially, anyway.”
“Listen,” I said, stepping towards her. “I know people who can help you. Protect you. You don’t have to keep doing this. You can come back to London with me.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?!
“Because I’m in way too fucking deep now!” The words burst out of her, crazed and desperate, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You think I wanted this? You think I chose any of this?”
The wind shifted, carrying scents with it. Callum’s familiar musk, sharp with barely controlled aggression. And underneath it, three distinct human signatures—metallic fear, stale cigarettes, and sweat.
“Just give me Dev and I’ll go,” I said, taking a step towards the buggy. “That’s the deal.”
She shook her head frantically. “I can’t. Rory, you don’t understand what they’re all like.” Her voice faltered, and she paused to inhale a gulp of air. “Mum’s made it very clear what happens to people who disappoint her.”
As I stared at her, I finally understood. “She’s got a hold on you.”
“Yes. Yes, she’s got a hold on me. On everything,” Isla whispered. “My life, my future, my choices. All of it. If I leave, she might hurt Dad. He’s innocent in all this. He doesn’t even know she’s still alive.”
“Listen, Isla, I promise I can help you,” I said urgently. “I can’t tell you anything more here, but you need to trust—”
“No.” She shook her head again, more violently this time. “You don’t understand. She’s not just some criminal. She’s military. Government. She has resources you can’t imagine.”
The walkie-talkie crackled again. Then I could hear them crystal clear—the deliberate snap of branches, boots on ground. Not trying to be quiet anymore. They wanted us to know they were coming.
“We’re out of time,” Isla said, panic creeping into her voice. “Just go, Rory. This is your last chance! They’ll have tranq guns.”
My body betrayed me with tremors I couldn’t control. I so desperately wanted to make a run for it. But I couldn’t leave Dev. Wouldn’t.
Then I felt it—warmth flooding through me, followed by a scent that made my heart race. Maxwell, approaching through the trees behind me. I could smell him, smell myself on him—my scent still clinging to his skin from last night.
No, no, no. How did he find me so quickly?
“MAXWELL, STAY BACK!” I shouted over my shoulder.
The sound of crashing footsteps erupted from another direction. Callum burst into the clearing with three other men, each wearing utility belts. Each armed.
“Callum!” I snarled, because I couldn’t just stand there and say nothing to the bastard who’d helped torture Dev.
He only smirked, that familiar sneer making me itch to punch him. “I was hoping for a reason to end you. Looks like you’ve just given me one.”
“Hold on, Callum,” Isla said, her voice wobbling.
Her eyes widened, looking behind me with something that might have been horror or relief—I couldn’t tell which.
I didn’t need to turn around to know that Maxwell had ignored my instruction. The bond sparked with fierce pleasure at being reunited even as terror flooded my system like ice water.
He slid into place beside me, raising an arm protectively in front of my chest. His body radiated tension, coiled and ready to spring.
“Oh, look, it’s Detective Inspector Maxwell,” Callum acknowledged with mock politeness, his brown eyes glittering with malice. “How convenient. Two birds, one stone.”
The three men with him shifted their stances, hands moving to their utility belts.
“Callum, please,” Isla tried again, taking a step towards him. “We can work this out without—”
“Without what?” Callum cut her off, never taking his eyes off me. “Without giving this little traitor exactly what he deserves? He turned his back on the pack. He doesn’t deserve our help.”
Maxwell’s arm pressed more firmly against my chest, his heart pounding rabbit-fast.
“The only traitor here is you,” I spat back, anger overriding common sense. “Working with outsiders—with humans—to betray your own kind.”
Callum’s face darkened. His hand moved to his belt, fingers wrapping around something black and angular. “Should have stayed in London, Rory.”
He raised his hand to reveal a bulky pistol-shaped device—a dart gun. I caught the faint chemical smell of sedatives on the air.
Maxwell tensed beside me, muscles bunching, preparing to move even through our shared terror.
Callum looked at the three men flanking him and jerked his chin towards us.
“Take care of them.”