Feet shuffled, murmurs broke out, but Bass didn’t take his eyes off Castor. This was it, the one and only chance to get the upper hand. “Tilly, Mathew, Neo, Kiah, Kit, Theo, Oriana, Willa, Gemma, Josie…. Tell me, Castor, do you know their names and faces as well as me? Would you lay down your lives for your pack as I would my own?”
Shouts erupted from behind him and above—the Indiana wolves revolting—and as the creak of the large barn door joined the commotion, Dark Shadow and River Run pouring into the fray, Bass shot forward on light, nimble feet, like lightning cutting through the night. Castor wouldn’t see another dawn, of that Bass was certain.
Chapter 43
Katalina
The first slap across her face didn’t really register. The second, however, vibrated through her head, rousing Katalina into a consciousness she wasn’t sure she wanted to be present for. Pain rushed over her first—the sharp sting from the slap on her cheek and the burn of what felt like a hundred cuts covering her skin. Then came sound—the cry of battle, the moans of death, and the growls of revenge. Scents filled her lungs as she dragged in a breath—blood, coppery rich, and the smell of home.
Bass, Dad, Nico, Toby, Cage, Tyler, Regan, Mia, Logan… and so many more. The familiar scents of all those she’d come to love over the last year. Her friends. Her family. Her pack. They’d come for her, and now they’d die for her if she didn’t figure out how to get out of the cage and decipher a vision that so far had been nothing but useless.
“I said, wake up!” Raven hissed. Katalina caught the whistle of her hand cutting through the air at the last moment and snapped her head upright before Raven’s third hit caught her cheek. “Ah, good, you’re awake. You were missing all the fun.”
Katalina blinked open her eyes, first finding Raven’s sadistic grin, but it held her concentration for all of two seconds, because the scene behind her was straight out of her nightmares. Shifters in both forms clashed together—claws, teeth, and fists. Bullets rained down from above, promising death. There were so many people that Katalina struggled to make out who was friend or foe. Castor had moved in an army while she’d been unconscious, and his wolves attacked with a savageness she’d seen only once before. In her father’s barn, week after week as she’d tried to bring Zackary back from the tome inside of his own mind. Lost to the wild, a primal wolf taking up residence in his body, Zackary had been nothing human and far more dangerous than a simple animal. He’d been a mindless creature consumed with bloodlust, and Castor had created a horde of the feral beasts to end Dark Shadow and River Run for good.
Dad!
Jackson’s gaze met hers across the building. Fending off attackers, he changed direction, fighting his way toward her. His eyes widened, and then Raven was in Katalina’s face, the edge of her blade glinting in the light as she hovered it in front of her.
“Father’s not here now. Maybe it’s time I destroy the face that captured so many hearts.”
Katalina hated the hitch of her breath and icy slither of fear crawling over her skin. She was stronger than that, braver, yet as her blood slowly dripped from her body, it took her strength and resolve with it. It broke down her walls and fractured her psyche. Katalina was afraid, and Raven knew it.
“He’s a little busy with Bass, you see.” At the mention of his name, Katalina searched the crowd but couldn’t see him. “Oh, he chased my father out of the barn. Maybe he’s lying half-dead somewhere, calling your name.” Raven laughed.
Hatred burned through Katalina’s fear. “It will be Castor who dies today, Raven.” Bass wasn’t dead. He was close, and strong. She could feel the strength of his will pulsing through the mating bond.
“Maybe,” Raven cooed as she stroked her knife over Katalina’s throat. “But so will most of the wolves from the packs you love so much.”
The blade whipped up, sliced into her cheek, spilling hot blood into her mouth as Katalina cried out. Howls of fury answered her cry, but no one was getting into the cage. She was alone, tied up, and at the mercy of a woman as twisted as Castor.
“I think you can scream louder than that,” Raven said mildly. “Call for your daddy, Katalina. Call for your mate. Maybe if you yell loud enough, they’ll rescue you.”
The next cut ran between her breasts, tearing at the fabric of her dress and traveling down to her navel. Raven smiled through every slice, found joy in each drop of blood, and as much as Katalina tried, she couldn’t silence her pain.
Her blood ran scarlet, her screams filling the air, and as Raven carried on with her fun, Katalina wished for death. Castor had been right; his plan brilliant because as she was broken, piece by small piece, her anguish rippled through the packs she loved, driving them insane and distracting them from the threat firing down from above.
Tears rolled down her face as the people she loved fought desperately to reach her and fell at the hands of their enemy. She was their weakness, the ultimate weapon to be wielded, and as Raven’s delight echoed through Katalina’s head, she let her desperation and horror erupt skywards in a keening howl. The sound echoed by all those as desperate and horrified as her.
Katalina was coming apart at the seams, her hope nothing but a dying flicker. And as the first tear slid down her face, she
