Page 36 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)
Chapter thirty-six
Cam
T he sound comes first—a sharp, splintering crack that doesn’t belong in the hush of the ruined building.
I freeze, eyes drawn to Jamie, out of reach. His head snaps toward the sound.
Then the floor shudders beneath my boots.
“Cam—out!” Dane’s voice, low but urgent, cuts through the dusty air.
The next instant is chaos. The groan of ancient wood and rusted nails tearing loose echoes around us, walls trembling like they’re deciding whether or not to give up entirely.
“Jamie—move!” Theo barks, already lunging toward him.
But the ground isn’t steady anymore. Plaster rains down in choking clouds, the faint sunlight from the high windows turning into a haze of gold and grit. The air tastes like metal and old stone, dry enough to scrape the back of my throat raw.
I can’t see him.
“Jamie!” My voice cracks. No answer.
I start forward, heart battering my ribs.
A heavy thud shakes the floor. Something’s fallen—a beam maybe—blocking part of the open space between us. Dane’s there in an instant, bracing his shoulder against a groaning post, shoving with a snarl. Theo’s beside him, wedging another beam under the sagging wall.
“Cam, stay back—” Dane starts, but I ignore him.
The space between us is full of jagged wood and chunks of ceiling, and somewhere in there is Jamie. I hear a muffled sound—not words, just the raw, tight sound of someone caught in pain or fear.
I drop to my knees and crawl, splinters biting into my palms. My knee snags on something sharp, but I ignore it. My lungs burn from the dust. Every sound—the cracking above, the alphas’ grunts as they fight to hold the structure steady—slams into me with the same relentless urgency.
I can’t lose him. Not like this.
“There—Cam, stop —” Theo again, but his voice is tight, breathless with strain. He’s not in a position to stop me.
I keep going, wriggling under a slanted beam until my shoulder screams from the angle. My hand hits something solid—warm—and for a dizzy, lurching second, I think it’s just more debris.
Then it moves.
“Jamie!” I’m practically shouting into the gap.
“Cam?” His voice is faint, hoarse. “Don’t—don’t come further. The floor’s—”
I ignore him, shoving my arm deeper until my fingers find his.
The grip he gives me is weak, but it’s there. Real.
“I’ve got you,” I say, the words shaking as much as my hands. “I’m not letting go.”
Another deep, angry creak rolls through the building. Dane swears, low and sharp. “Theo—brace the left side! It’s shifting again!”
Theo grunts in answer, something heavy clanging into place. The thud reverberates up my arm where I’m holding Jamie’s hand. His thumb brushes mine—a tiny movement that punches all the air out of me.
“Hold him, Cam!” Dane’s voice is rough with adrenaline. “We’re getting there!”
I press my cheek to the cool stone beside the gap, peering into the darkness even though all I can see are his fingers, part of his sleeve, and the shadow of his arm disappearing under the wreckage.
“I’m right here,” I tell him. “Just keep talking to me.”
“Was—gonna—” His breath hitches. “Was gonna get you… the flower.”
“Idiot,” I say, my throat tight.
Another violent shudder ripples through the wall. The sound above is like a giant exhaling—long, low, and dangerous.
“Cam—don’t move!” Theo’s shout is sharp, almost panicked.
I freeze, still clutching Jamie’s hand like it’s the only thing tethering either of us to the real world.
Dane’s voice cuts through, deep and steady despite the strain. “We’re not leaving him. Hold on.”
The building groans again, and something showers down on the back of my neck — dirt, dust, maybe bits of rotted plaster. My scalp prickles.
I squeeze Jamie’s hand tighter. “They’re coming. Just hang on.”
He doesn’t answer this time, but his fingers twitch in mine.
Somewhere behind me, Theo snarls with effort. Dane’s breathing hard, the sound edged with primal determination.
The walls creak louder. Something shifts under my knees, and for a horrible moment, I think the floor might give way.
But I don’t let go.