Page 73 of Ruthless Moon

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Page 73 of Ruthless Moon

A scream of anguish tears from my throat as I rush toward him. But I’m intercepted, pulled by so many arms. I fight back, fueled by desperation and anger, but there are so many. Too many.

Their hands grip, bind, and drag me away. Every step they take pulls me farther from Jackson’s side, every shout and command muffled by the roaring grief in my ears.

Despair and rage merge, and I thrash wildly. But the weight of the guards, the overwhelming force of their numbers, holds me back. They have me, and they’re not letting go.

The world twists and warps around me, every noise louder, every touch painful. My feet drag over the uneven concrete in the alley.

My lungs burn, my throat raw from shouting and screaming. The thick tang of blood fills the air. My brother’s blood.

Ahead of me, Bast stands alone, eyes wild, fists clenched and body swaying slightly from exhaustion. And there is Noah, emerging from the chaos, gun aimed and gleaming in his hand.

“I knew you and your brother would make a mistake. And oh, was it a glorious mistake,” he taunts, taking deliberate steps toward Bast. “Hurting you and your family will hurther. That will have to be enough for now.”

“Noah, please!” I’m not above begging, but my voice comes out more like a croak than a shout. He doesn’t hear me. Or can’t. Or doesn’t care.

I hear Noah cock the gun.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A figure, cloaked and hooded, emerges from a corner of the alleyway. The movements are a strange mix of predatory and ethereal, like a wraith gliding across the ground.

A second later, she raises a hand, and an unseen force hurls Noah into the air and sends him crashing against the brick wall of a nearby building. The impact knocks him unconscious and his gun clatters uselessly to the ground.

Bast, though stunned, doesn’t waste a second. He’s on his feet, ready to defend against the new threat.

But the figure shakes her head, her voice soft yet commanding. “Go. Now.”

I’m yelling the same thing, every ounce of my remaining energy focused on one wish. “Run, Bast. Run!”

The guards holding me are relentless. The cold metal of an SUV’s door is against my back, my sightline to my brother narrowing as they force me into the vehicle.

He hesitates for a split second, eyes darting between me and the savior in the cloak. Then, with an accepting nod, he scoops up Jackson’s body and sprints away, rapidly disappearing from sight.

The door slams shut. The engine roars to life, but all I can hear is the pounding of my heart and the memory of watching my little brother die loops in my head, a guilt-induced hell of my own making.

I should’ve fought harder.

I should’ve never admitted to Aiden how I felt.

I could’ve stopped all of this.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Hope Is a Dangerous Thing

IMOGEN GALLAGHER

The boundary of the white stones is just a footstep away, but it feels like a chasm stretching out before me. Beyond it, the world vibrates with a subtle hum, the air inside the circle almost tangible, saturated with a powerful energy that calls to the wolf inside me.

I hesitate on the edge, my white flats scuffing the dusty ground.

The two O’Connor enforcers approach, the ones Aiden handed me off to. They want me to cross into the coven. They’ve already opened the gateway.

Eleanor waves them off and walks closer, taking up space at my side. “We need to go in.”

With a deep breath, I press my foot forward, my heart pounding in sync with the thrumming energy. The gateway slides across my skin and the world inside shifts and takes on more vibrant colors.

Straight ahead, Rachel stands in the center of the dirt road, her expression sad, and the dam inside me breaks. My heart shatters. How can I exist without him?




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