Page 53
Story: Moon Destiny
“It’s a trap,” Dylan said at once.
Malcolm gave a contemptuous snort. “A fucking obvious one, and Villadsen knows it.” He frowned at me. “Rourke knows she’s your mate. That means he knows you’ll do exactly as he says. But you can’t walk in there alone, Hugh. It’s a death sentence.”
“He’s probably got the whole place surrounded by rogues,” Dylan said. “Who knows what kind of firepower he has.”
They were right. If Rourke was making a move like this, he was confident he was going to win. He must have collected enough rogues to take on the Council. He probably planned to kill me and then move on the Pacific Pack. And there was no way he was going to leave Brooke alive. He’d kill her whether I followed his directions or not.
She’d sounded so scared on that call…
Deep in my head, my wolf snapped its jaws. That traitor dared to threaten our mate. He couldn’t be permitted to live.
And that meant breaking some rules. Rourke had a lot of firepower?
It was time to fight fire with fire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BROOKE
I’d thought Seren would stop torturing me once I completed the call with Hugh.
Silly me.
He leaned against the ratty TV stand and flicked his fingers in my direction. “Dolor.”
Agony slammed into me, bowing my back off the bed. The pain was incomprehensible. Every pore in my body was a little pool of suffering. My tendons strained. I would have screamed if I could, but there was no room left within me to do so. Pain crowded out everything else.
“Nix,” he said with another wave of his hand.
The pain stopped abruptly, and I flopped on the bed. Sweat dampened my hairline and the front of my shirt. “Why,” I asked, my gaze on the odious popcorn ceiling, “do you have to say magic words for this bullshit but not when you were squeezing my lungs?” I regained enough control of my neck to lift my head. “Is it like a Harry Potter cosplay thing you’re doing?”
Slowly, Seren pushed away from the TV stand.
“Foolish, Ms. Ratner,” Rourke murmured. He sat on the edge of the other queen bed, where he’d observed the last half hour with an air of detached interest. He seemed almost bored at this point, like he’d seen the same show over and over and was eager for something new.
And that didn’t bode well for me.
Yeah, probably should have kept my mouth shut. But my voice was really the only weapon I had in this place. And it was good to keep both men occupied, right? Tanner had left shortly after I finished the phone call, and I imagined him putting rogues into position outside the motel room. Whatever Rourke was planning, it wasn’t an ambush. More like a bloodbath. All I could do was hope Hugh had heard my plea over our mental connection. He had to stay away.
But I knew he wouldn’t, and I had no idea how to stop him. I’d tried to link with him mentally again, but I couldn’t make the connection. Probably, I was too burned out. All I knew was I couldn’t—wouldn’t—watch him die.
“I can’t lose you,” he’d said to me once. Now I knew how he’d felt when he said it. Because I felt the same about him.
And I was determined to make sure I never had to live the reality of those words.
I made eye contact with Seren. “So which house are you? Slytherin or Hufflepuff or what?”
Anger flashed in his eyes, and as he moved to my side I braced myself for another round of misery. But he didn’t flick his hand. Instead, he peered down at me and drew his fingertips over my sweaty neck.
A strange sensation flooded me, as if embers burned under my skin. Heat suffused my neck, the discomfort growing from a sunburn to an inferno that made me grit my teeth against the need to scream. At the same time, my body throbbed with recognition.
No…memory. I knew him. I’d felt his hot breath on my neck just before he’d ripped out my throat at the Gorge.
“You,” I rasped.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I was sloppy that night,” he said, regret in his voice. Without warning, he moved his hand to my breast and squeezed. “I almost wish I’d bitten you. It would have given me more time to teach you to shut your mouth.”
I ignored my pain and revulsion so I could frown. “If this is your idea of foreplay, I’m afraid it’s not working.”
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