He had to have known that.
As I lay back, my eyes on the ceiling, I wondered if double jeopardy applied in Pack Law. I’d already broken my permissions. What more could they do?
“Deep breaths,” I muttered, willing my heart to quit bludgeoning my chest from the inside out. “You’re going to be fine.”
What would they do to Chase if they caught us? What would they do to me?
For a moment, I considered backing out, but like a neon sign, the image of a pigtailed little girl lit up in my mind. Madison.
This wasn’t just about me anymore, and it wasn’t just about Chase and the way the Rabid stalked him through the night, refusing to let him forget even for a second who had the power and who’d been left gutted on the pavement.
This stopped now. The attacks. The aftermath. The victims. It had to stop, and the alphas would take care of it. Once I heard it from their own mouths, maybe the ever-present roar in my gut—kill the Rabid, save them, fight, protect—might dissipate and die, and I could go back to being the girl who loved playing in other people’s trash and didn’t care much for dominance hierarchies and inter-pack relations.
Maybe I could go back to being Bryn.
“I’m calming down. I’m breathing. I’m ready.”
My body rebelled against those orders, but I ignored it, closed my eyes, and let myself be pulled into thoughts of Chase.
Dark hair. Blue eyes. Lopsided grin.
Chase.
He had a small, sinewy scar that pulled at one edge of his mouth. He appreciated rooms that locked from the inside and despised being caged. He moved like flowing lava. He thought he loved me, even though I could count on one hand the number of times we’d actually met.
Chase.
My body relaxed. My heartbeat slowed until I could only imagine the low, soothing whoosh of blood through my veins. Chase’s scent enveloped me, and as I breathed it in and out and felt his presence all around me, I lost myself to the pull of his psyche at the edges of mine. Like a sand castle at high tide, I broke, dissolved, and drifted slowly away.
“They want to see you.”
As my mind settled into Chase’s, and we became Chase-Wolf-Bryn, the senses we shared flared to life. Smell came first, the way it always did, and I recognized the person speaking to Chase because underneath the familiar scent of Stone River, he smelled angry. Not the fresh rush of adrenaline that came with fury, but the rotting irritation of bitterness as it decomposed.
Marcus.
If he’d found my adoption galling, the fact that the entire Senate wanted to see Chase, who hadn’t even been born a Were, must have chafed, too.
Senate? Us? Now?
On one level, I was aware that this was why I’d come here, but going to the meeting hadn’t been part of the plan. We were supposed to eavesdrop. We weren’t supposed to venture into Alpha Central ourselves. My thoughts blended into Chase’s, my questions into his.
Why did the Senate want to see Us?
Deeper in Chase’s mind, his wolf was anxious, antsy about going into a room filled with Others. Wolves who weren’t Pack. People he didn’t trust.
We have to go, I thought, even though, like the wolf, I didn’t want to. Chase nodded to Marcus, not bothering to conceal his dislike of a man who’d always hated me. If I’d been in my own body, I might have made a comment specifically designed to press werewolf buttons, but instead, I let Chase’s thoughts guide mine. We were about to walk willingly into the wolf’s den. Literally. We couldn’t afford a divided front at a time like this.
Chase pushed forward, and as we neared Callum’s house, his fists clenched. From the depths of his mind, I tried to prepare him for the rush of power that slammed into Our body the moment we crossed the threshold of Callum’s door. Each alpha in this room carried with him the weight of an entire pack, and it nearly brought Us low. These men played at being human, sitting around a table in Callum’s living room, but the air between them was so saturated with primal instincts that Chase almost couldn’t breathe.
Jaws should have been snapping. Bodies should have been pinned to the ground. Heads should have been bowing, blood should have been spilled, and one man should have ruled them all.
That was what the wolf inside of Chase said. That was the only conclusion supported by the pulsating, electric, lethal undertone in this room.
“I take it this is the boy?”
Chase took two steps back. Wolf wanted to come out. We had to get out of there.
No, I said softly, finding my own voice in Chase’s thoughts. Keep your head angled at forty-five degrees to the ground, but stand up straight. Don’t back down, don’t challenge. Don’t even move.
There wasn’t another wolf within a mile of Callum’s house at the moment. The power in this room would have been too much for them, and the Senate didn’t deal with packs. The alphas didn’t touch wolves that weren’t theirs. So why had they called for Chase?
“Come in,” Callum said evenly. Chase could have resisted the order. He was mine more than he was Callum’s, but I echoed the sentiment. Step forward. Keep your head tilted downward, but don’t look at the ground. Look at Callum. Keep your mouth closed. Whatever you do, don’t show your teeth.
The closer we got to Callum, the more we could feel the others, prowling just outside our thoughts. They didn’t push. They didn’t attack. But they were there.
“He isn’t Rabid.”
For a second, the voice sounded so like Devon’s that I wondered if he was pulling a ventriloquist act from somewhere in the depths of Callum’s house. And then I realized—
Shay.
“He hasn’t Shifted yet, which means he has more control than most young ones. Impressive, Callum.”
There was something irreverent in Shay’s words, a tone that told me that Shay remembered being under Callum’s rule and wanted everyone else to forget it. In his own domain, Shay was king, but here, he was young, foolish, and couldn’t hold a candle to Callum’s years, his experience, or his power.
Perfectly contained. Understated. Overwhelming. That was Callum.
Bubbling, roaring, biting at the bit. That was Shay.
“Chase.” Callum’s words brought our eyes to his, and inside of Chase, I almost flinched. If I’d been me instead of Us, I would have.
I knew those eyes. I knew Callum. And he knew me.
Bryn.
I felt the call. I wanted to respond but didn’t. I wasn’t Callum’s anymore. He couldn’t tell me what to do. I wasn’t even sure if he knew I was there, or if he simply saw me every time he looked at Chase, thought about me almost as much as I thought about him.