Page 8 of Rising Reign (The Wolves of Crescent Creek #3)
PUCK
“Do you think I should go in there? I feel like I should go in there,” I said as I pushed back from the long table that had served as King’s operating room and now had a brunch spread to rival all brunch spreads atop it.
Brix reached out and clamped a hand on my shoulder, keeping me from rising. My gaze flicked to him. I still wasn’t used to the casualness with which Brix made human contact.
“They need to work it out,” Brix said calmly.
“Wren was yelling,” I argued.
Ender took a sip of coffee. “King probably said something moronic.”
“You’d know all about that,” Locke muttered.
Ender glared in our resident hacker’s direction as Hera tried to cover her laugh with a napkin. He turned that glare on her. “Got something to say, witch? ”
Hera’s pale-green eyes flashed a deeper color, and sparks of energy zapped across the space, landing on Ender.
“Ow! Shit!” Ender jerked, spilling coffee on his shirt. “Seriously?”
“You know that term isn’t appreciated.” She took a bite of the egg casserole I’d spent hours on as we waited for Wren to wake. “But this is. Thank you, Puck.”
“Least I could do.” We’d never be able to repay Hera for what she’d done. We’d all seen what it cost her. Not the same as Wren, but enough that she’d gone to one of the bedrooms and slept for thirteen hours straight.
A phone dinged, and Brix pulled it out of his pocket. “Plane’s ready whenever we are.”
Good. That was good. We needed to get the hell out of Louisiana before Bastian and the Red River pack had a chance to recover. I glanced at Ender. “Any word from your source?”
Ender was protective of his informants, never divulging their identities. But he was beyond secretive about one in particular. We knew nothing about them except that they were plugged into the darkest places in the supernatural world and had an otherworldly knowledge of the happenings there.
Ender flipped his phone over and shook his head. “Not yet. I don’t think we should move until we hear from him.”
Hera’s lips pursed. “We should get out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Trust me,” Ender gritted out. “We want his insight.”
“I don’t trust you, so?—”
Her voice cut off as footsteps came from the back hallway. Everyone turned at once, and Wren froze, her cheeks heating. “Hi,” she squeaked.
She looked fucking adorable with her hair wrapped in a towel and barefoot. She wore tiny shorts and an oversized tee, but my gaze stilled on the fresh mark on her thigh .
A grin split my face as I looked at the man behind her. “The thigh, King? Seriously?”
Wren’s blush deepened, and she turned into Kingston. He glared at me and simply lifted her into his arms. “We don’t need your brand of bullshit this morning.”
“Bullshit?” I demanded with false affront. “I’m just calling ‘em like I see ‘em.”
Hera threw a biscuit at me, and I caught it easily. She looked at the newly mated couple. “How are you both feeling?”
Kingston crossed to the table and lowered himself and Wren to a chair. “I feel great.” He lifted Wren’s chin, his fingers ghosting over where dark circles had been. “You, Little Warrior?”
She brushed her lips across his. “Perfect.”
A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, and she laughed, trying to slide off his lap.
King’s hold on her tightened, a different kind of growl leaving him then.
Newly mated pairs could be territorial in the first few hours and days after the bond, but the fact that Kingston was the alpha would heighten those instincts.
“Stay,” he rumbled. “Need you close.”
Wren ran her nose along the column of his throat, soothing the beast inside him. “Okay. But I need food.” Her stomach rumbled in agreement.
I so badly wanted to pull her to me, kiss her, and lose myself in her.
I knew we all wanted that after fearing the worst. But if any of us made a move like that right now, King would take our heads off.
We had to give him space. So, I did the only thing I could.
I piled a plate high with food for Wren.
“Here,” I said, sliding it over to her. “Eat every last piece.”
Wren’s eyes widened. “Uh, buddy? I’m not a linebacker for a professional football team.”
Something shifted in my chest at the use of the nickname. I made a face. “Birdie, I am not your buddy.”
Her lips twitched. “Sure, you aren’t.”
King sent me a look. “What about me? I don’t get food? ”
“You’re hogging our mate. Get your own damn food.”
He barked out a laugh but began dishing up a plate for himself.
Locke toyed with the fork in his hand and glanced at Wren. “You’re really okay?”
She swallowed a bite of pancake and reached over to squeeze his hand. “I didn’t feel great when I woke up, but after we, um, bonded, I felt amazing. It’s like everything healed.”
“It’s the balance being restored,” Hera said. “Everything you gave to Kingston returned to you now that he’s healed.”
Wren looked up at King, her hand moving to stroke his cheek. “We’re okay.”
He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “We’re okay.”
A phone began ringing, and Ender shoved back from the table, answering it with a gruff, “Speak.”
Wren made a face. “Only Ender would answer a phone call like that.”
Brix choked on a laugh. “He’s got a way.”
Still, we all followed him with our eyes as he stepped out onto the cabin’s front porch. He paced back and forth as he spoke, grabbing his deep-brown man bun and giving it a tug. The lines of strain around his mouth didn’t speak of good things, and the food I’d eaten suddenly felt heavy in my gut.
In seconds, Ender was striding back inside, slamming the door behind him.
“What?” Kingston demanded.
Ender’s amber eyes flashed gold. “They’re reassembling.” His gaze flicked down to Wren for the briefest of moments before returning to King. “Bastian took his beta to a local dark mage coven. They brought him back.”
The entire room went silent. I wasn’t sure a single person even breathed.
Bringing someone back from the dead carried a price no one had the reserves to pay. It meant a blood sacrifice. And more than that, the person who returned wasn’t the same as the one who was lost. They were darker.
Given that Marcelle was already evil incarnate, I didn’t even want to think about what he’d return as. But worse? He’d come for the one who’d ended his life.
He’d come for Wren.