Page 90 of Resisted

What type of room. Big, small?

From the side, the chair got kicked, shooting it across the floor, which jarred every bone in my body, making it rattle with agony. I rolled my head to the side, watching, waiting for another blow that never came.

Big.I let my eyes roll around, searching for something, anything, but the décor was sparse and only offered the barest of information.With tables and benches. A few. Not many. It’s just space.

There was another pause, and I could only hope she was communicating with the others, if she really existed. Which I wasn’t convinced of at this point. My mind was so fucked up, my head throbbing so intensely, I could barely concentrate to figure out what was real and what was false.

We’ll find you. Just hold on.

Then my mind went silent. The slightly pleasant buzz I’d felt disappeared, and I knew, I knew with absolute certainty, that this really was the end for me because there was no way I would have heard her. She didn’t know she was ours. I’d never gotten a chance to tell her. She never would’ve been on this island, not in a hundred fucking years would Boyce or Vince allow it. The hallucination was strong, my soul and mind manifesting what I wanted most in my last hours. I didn’t worry about when I was gone. I knew the rest of my subpack would protect her, but I was sorry that I never found her family like I’d promised her so many fucking years ago.

“He’s not looking so hot. Maybe we should lay off him for a while,” a voice suggested, but I was past the point of being able to turn my head and look for where it was coming from. “They should call soon, right? Surely they’ve tracked us by now.”

Call? Oh no, no, no. If that was what they were waiting on out here in the middle of nowhere, they would be disappointed. Shifters weren’t the call and wait type of beings, but I lacked the will and desire to let them know that.

“He will heal, right?” another one asked. “I want my fucking cash for his capture.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Questionable. I wasn’t sure about that. “Give him some water. I’m sure that will fucking help.”

Water would help what? Healing? Fucking idiots. I didn’t argue because I was so fucking thirsty and it had been hours since I’d had water and days since I was even tossed a sliver of food. Someone stepped forward, and their hand dug into my hair as they yanked, pulling my head in their direction, which lolled in whatever way they felt like pulling. I didn’t fucking care, I just wanted water to take away the thick layer of blood that coated my sandpaper dry tongue. The sting of him actually yanking on my hair had disappeared among the excruciating pain of everything else at this point.

He yanked my head back at an angle, tipping a glass of water to my lips, and just as the water spilled over the side and the moisture touched my tongue, he dropped the glass to the cement, shattering it at our feet as his body jolted backwards twice. He fell, his shoulders hitting the cement, then his head, before his legs followed, sending him skidding over the hard surface until his body was stopped by the wall. There he lay, unmoving, as liquid red roses of blood bloomed on his clothes.

I stared at the blood as it poured out of his body, for one beat, then two. By the third beat of my still pumping heart, pure chaos erupted.

Chapter 39

BOYCE

Gutted.Destroyed. Physically ill.

When I crawled through a tiny spot between some bars that had long since broken or corraded away, I felt sick. I knew they were in there. I could hear them. I could smell a mix of fear and adrenaline, hear the cockiness they spewed, but I couldn’t see a fucking soul beyond the wall that I knew separated us, the animals, from them, the humans. It should’ve been the other way around because in my years as a poacher hunter, I’d learned that we shifters held way more humanity than the humans hunting us ever could.

I slinked closer to the wall, squeezing my body so tightly against it, I knew they wouldn’t see me unless they specifically looked. One inhale, then two. On the third, I allowed myself to crank my neck to the side and around the corner to get eyes on the room beyond. My gaze swept from right to left, noting the location of people, weapons and…

Then I saw him—my brother, my pack, my family, tied to a fucking chair and so damn bloody, I could hardly make out his features. Inside, my animal roared with disapproval and the desire to protect what was his—his family, his alpha, the legacy they had built together. Outside though, I kept my fucking composure as I pulled back and slinked back through the tight spot I had crawled through.

On the other side, Roth waited for what I’d gathered. I licked my suddenly dry lips and tried not to let my voice crack as I spoke. “Twenty. Silas is the center.” I closed my eyes, trying to steady my myself. “He’s pretty fucked up.”

“Alive?”

“Alive. Possibly not for long though.” I didn’t want to say it. “He’s bad. We don’t have much time.”

He brought his finger to his ear and pressed into the earpiece before relaying a brief message, then he paused, waiting for communication back. “They’re on their way. Rig’s team will block the other exit. Taras will go in with us.”

My heart nearly stopped as Silas’ voice reached my ear, the sound unnaturally wet as he took in a deep breath. “I don’t think we can wait that long.”

“We have no choice. What weapons did they have?” Roth asked, and I knew he was trying to distract me, but I needed the fucking distraction. I was ready to tear in there, fuck the consequences, and save my packmate. He was my fucking family, not Roth’s, and just because Roth was the pack alpha didn’t mean he had a say. He would have to force me by command if they didn’t get into position soon. To hold back was nearly impossible.

“Guns. Bars.” I closed my eyes for a moment trying to visualize. “Some had knives on their waist.”

He nodded once. “Were the knives the only weapons they had, those who had them strapped on?”

I blinked as I imagined the scene. “For a few.”

“We take out those with guns first if possible. Leave the ones with hand-to-hand weapons last, those will be the weaker and less of a threat.”

My skin crawled with anticipation and the need to rescue Silas. “Understood.”