Kenna was sitting cross-legged in the middle of a cell, three down from the entrance. Casey sat on the ground outside the cell, resting his back against the wall; his arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked exhausted. He stood up quickly when he saw us. Kenna didn’t move when we came up to her cell, she kept her head down, with a proud look on herself.
“Kenna,” I called, fighting down the urge to open the cell door. “Look at me.”
Her head struggled against the authoritative tone of my voice.
“Now!” Her head snapped up despite her strong will. “Tell me why you were working with them.”
“That’s none of your business,” she spat.
“Yes, it is.” She rolled her eyes. “Kenna, tell me now, or I will slit your throat in front of this entire pack.”
She shuddered at my threat but kept her mouth shut. I turned around to Casey and grabbed the ring of keys from his hands roughly. His eyes widened in shock, and he stepped backward. I fiddled with the keys, searching for the one that unlocked Kenna’s cell.
Rush took the keys from me, childishly holding them out of my reach far above his head. I growled and pushed his stomach lightly.
“Sloane, what are you planning on doing?”
“Getting my answers,” I snarled, sending a glare to Kenna, who fought hard to look brave.
“And then what? We need her, if only as collateral,” he reasoned.
“I don’t care, Rush.” He kept the keys above his head. “She could’ve killed our child.”
His eyes softened at that accusation, and his arm slumped down a few inches. I tugged on his arm and grabbed the keys again, flinging the cell door open. Kenna scrambled to her feet, raising her arms in a fighting stance. Although her father and brother were Warriors, she knew hardly anything about fighting.
I pushed her back roughly, grabbing her throat tightly in my right hand. “You will tell me why you are working with them,” I told her, whispering harshly in her face. Her face began to take on a light purple hue. “Now, or my grip will only get tighter.”
“I won’t tell you,” she said brokenly, only able to breathe in a small amount. I pulled her head away from the wall only to slam it back against the cement harder. She groaned, scratching at my hand.
“Sloane,” Rush called, shaking his head. “You can’t kill her. We need to know who she’s working with.”
“Well, who can I kill then?” I shouted. “Someone needs to pay!”
“I know,” he said sadly. His eyes shot to the cell beside Kenna for half a second, trying to hide it. I allowed Kenna to drop to the ground as I walked to the cell next to Kenna’s. Inside, a middle-aged man was sleeping on the floor. His face was weathered and sunken in; time had taken something from him.
“Who is he?” I demanded.
Rush refused to answer me.
“Casey, who is this?”
He snuck a look at Rush, who simply nodded, allowing him to answer. “He’s a hunter,” he told me, barely louder than a whisper. I raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was in our cells. “It’s the hunter than killed Isla.”
Deja Vu
I turned slowly to Rush, who had his eyes locked on the ground.
“You had the hunter that killed Isla down here, and you didn’t tell me?” I asked. The deadly tone of my voice made him shrink back. I took a step forward and shoved his shoulders. “You had him down here the entire time!”
He grabbed my hands softly as I pushed him, and he held them tightly.
“Sweetheart-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sloane,” he started again. “He hasn’t been here the entire time.”
“Then, when?” I grabbed his shirt in my hands. “How long has he been here.”
Rush looked down, closing his eyes to keep himself restrained. “Beckett found him three weeks after her funeral.”
“He’s been here for months,” I ground out. “Months, Rush! I’ve been living under the same roof as my sister’s murderer for months, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me.”
“What would you have done?” he shot back suddenly.
“I would’ve ripped his damn throat out!” I yelled loudly.
“Exactly,” he said through his tight jaw. “And we wouldn’t have gotten all the information from him that we have now.”
“Information is more important than justice for my family?”
“In this case, yes.”
I let go of his shirt, moving back from him, shaking my head.
“Sloane, you’re exhausted. We’ll get you cleaned up, a hot meal in your stomach, and we can talk about this tomorrow.”
“Do you think you can satisfy me with dinner and a shower?” I barked.
Casey quietly sidestepped me and closed Kenna’s cell. She continued to kneel on the ground, coughing and heaving.
“Sloane,” Rush soothed.
“How could you keep this from me?” I bellowed.
“How could keep Hazel from me?” he yelled back, twice as loud. “You met with that human girl for weeks! You went to Harrison’s house, Sloane! Don’t act like you’re so innocent in this.”
“I was protecting the pack,” I claimed, shoulders arching inwards at his attack.
“I was protecting you!” His face grew red and angry.
“I don’t need protecting,” I denied, shaking my head.
“After Isla’s murder, you didn’t move for a week.” He stepped forward; I took a small step back. “I had to bathe you, feed you, brush your hair for you. You died a little bit that day, and I barely got you back.”
“You had no right.” My lip wobbled.
He stepped towards me again, and I stepped back until I hit the wall opposite the cells. “As your mate, I have every right to make decisions that prevent harm to you.” He stepped closer to my face, leaning down. I closed my eyes,
