Page 45 of The Reluctant Mate (Shifters of the Three Rivers #5)

Chapter forty-five

Sofia

“T ell me, Derek,” Harris said, his voice casual as he undid the strap on his side holster and took out his gun. “Why did you come here? What did you hope to achieve?”

Derek didn’t answer. Our bond pulsed hot and violent between us, thrumming with his desire to tear Harris apart piece by piece.

I swallowed hard. We needed a way out of this. My eyes darted to the USB still clutched in Derek’s hand. It was a flimsy bargaining chip, but our only play.

“We came to negotiate,” I said quickly.

Harris arched a brow, clearly amused. “Negotiate?”

“The USB,” I pressed on. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? There’s information on there you don’t want getting out. We’re offering you a deal. We give you the USB. You call off the attack on Three Rivers.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

A flick of his wrist, and one of his men stepped forward. Derek glanced at me. He knew I was trying to stall, buying time, giving him a chance to rein in his fury and formulate a plan. I gave a slight nod, and he released the USB. The soldier tossed it to Harris, who twirled it between his fingers before casually dropping it in the trash bin.

“The USB is nothing. Once we realized Derek wasn’t playing our game, we took measures to mitigate the damage. We’re currently shutting down your servers so no one in Three Rivers can disseminate the intelligence. No one in your Pack will have time to find a workaround. We’re about to attack, and then they’ll be too busy being dead.”

My stomach dropped.

“In two hours, everyone in Three Rivers—everyone you love, everyone you have ever known—will be culled.”

A sharp, ringing silence filled my head, blocking out everything else. Two hours. Two hours before they wiped out my home. Mai. The pups. Wally. Thomas. Mrs. Patterson. The Bottley Bar. All of it, gone.

I struggled to keep my breathing steady, but Harris must have seen the flicker of panic in my eyes because his smile widened.

“You came here thinking you had leverage,” he continued, shaking his head. “Thinking you could outmaneuver us. But we don’t negotiate with animals, sweetheart.”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door swung open, and three more soldiers entered, guns out but pointed at the ground. I hoped the weapons were just for show; there were too many soldiers in here now for them to use the guns without the risk of hitting each other. The new soldiers positioned themselves in a loose semi-circle around us, relaxed but alert. I flicked my gaze to Derek, knew he was ahead of me and had already come to the realization that we were done. There was no more stalling. They were going to take us and then attack our Pack. His fury burned white hot through our bond, and I knew he was going to fight, going to try to kill Harris.

My pulse spiked. If Derek moved now, they’d shoot him before he got within arm’s reach of Harris.

I had to do something. We needed a distraction, something to take the focus off Derek.

I dropped my shoulders slightly, let my breath hitch just enough to make it seem like I was panicking. I widened my eyes, staring at Harris like I was terrified, letting my body language scream helpless, fragile, subservient.

It worked.

Harris smirked, satisfied. I wasn’t a threat; I was a scared barista, nothing more. He turned his full attention back to Derek.

“I have to admit, brother, I was expecting more from you. This has all been too easy.”

Derek stood perfectly still, his expression neutral, almost detached. Anyone looking at him would see resignation, maybe even defeat. But through our mate bond, I felt the coiled tension, the deadly focus sharpening to a razor’s edge.

We were out of time. I had to strike first, had to distract them.

I spun, fast and precise, driving my heel into the kneecap of the guard closest to me. Bone popped under the force of the blow, and he crumpled with a strangled cry. Before he hit the floor, I pivoted again, twisting my bound wrists up and over the man’s falling body, ramming the sharp edge of my elbow into another guard’s throat.

The soldier gagged, fingers scrabbling at his crushed windpipe as he staggered backward.

Chaos erupted.

Derek had lunged the second I moved, his sheer force sending two guards flying. He ripped through his hand-ties like they were paper as Harris cursed, shoving himself back as his soldiers swarmed us.

I twisted as a rifle butt cracked against my ribs, pain blooming deep in my side.

Damn it, I had to be faster!

I slammed my shoulder into the soldier’s gut. He stumbled, thrown off balance, and I wrenched my hands forward. The plastic ties broke with a satisfying snap.

Should have used the silver ones.

Free.

Another man grabbed me from behind, his arm locking around my throat. I brought my foot down hard on his instep, twisting at the same time, and drove my elbow into his solar plexus. He wheezed, his grip loosening just enough for me to throw him over my hip. He crashed into two other soldiers advancing toward me, sending them all sprawling across the floor.

Holy shit, that felt good!

Across the room, Derek was a force of nature, his movements fluid and lethal as he cut through their ranks with terrifying efficiency.

Movement to my left—Harris.

He brought his gun up and trained it on Derek.

I didn’t think. I just moved. Diving toward Harris, I stretched my hands out, trying to knock the gun from his hand.

There was a pffff sound as a dart whizzed past my ear and punched into Derek’s shoulder. He staggered, a vicious snarl tearing from his throat as he ripped the dart free.

What the hell?

It was a sleek, narrow syringe, its needle dripping with something thick and clear.

Not a bullet. A tranquilizer.

“Derek—!” I shouted, but another dart slammed into his thigh.

Derek stumbled again and ripped it out, but a third one hit him in his ribs.

“NO!” My scream sounded like it came from someone else as I watched darts fly from all directions at Derek. I rolled up and sprinted toward him.

A fist slammed into my stomach, stealing my breath.

Hands yanked my hair, dragging me back.

Harris.

I twisted, trying to break his grip, but he wrenched my head down as his knee rocketed up, connecting with my face with a sickening crack. Pain exploded across my cheekbone. The world tilted, bright spots dancing across my vision as I sagged in his grip.

His fingers twisted in my curls, wrenching my head back painfully, forcing me to watch through a haze of tears and pain.

Derek gave up trying to rip the darts out. He fought like a demon, tearing through their ranks even as the drugs slowed him down, even as his movements became sluggish. He grabbed one of the guards by the throat and lifted him clean off his feet, his grip so tight his knuckles went white—but then his legs buckled.

He dropped to one knee, shaking his head like he was trying to fight through the haze. His eyes found mine, wild and desperate.

Heat flared across our mate bond, furious and primal. Derek’s wolf, trying to fight through the sedation, trying to reach me, protect me.

Harris dragged me over to Derek. I tried to claw his hands off my hair, my head still spinning from the blow. With a sudden jerk, he grabbed my throat, lifted me into the air, and then slammed me into the ground.

I couldn’t breathe. There was no air, none in the world, that was getting to my lungs. It felt like I was drowning. Harris pressed one knee heavily on my sternum, pinning me in place as I gasped desperately for breath, each attempt sending sharp pain through my chest.

“I want you alive, Derek, for a while, anyway. I want you to wake up and see what I’ve done to your precious home. I want you to know that you failed to protect it. And when you do next wake, know this, my brother: your mate, your precious fucking mate, will be broken.” Harris’s voice was soft, calm, the kind of voice you’d use on a child reading a bedtime story. “My creations are about to set off for Three Rivers, and that gives me and my men a couple of hours to play with. We’re going to fill it having fun with your mate. By the time we’re done, she won’t just smell of me, she’ll taste of me. You won’t be able to look at her without seeing all the marks I’m going to leave on her. And she’ll be nothing but my caged little pet, panting in heat, waiting for my next command to bend over and spread her legs for me.”

A guttural, inhuman sound tore from Derek’s throat. His body convulsed, his muscles straining against the drugs, his teeth bared in a final, desperate snarl. He tried to move, tried to lurch toward us, but even he couldn’t fight off the sheer volume of tranquilizers they had pumped into him. His head lolled forward, his breathing uneven.

“No!” I gasped the word, tearing it from my throat. I thrashed wildly against Harris’s knee, not caring that it felt like he was breaking all the bones in my ribs. The pain didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Derek. I reached for him, for our bond, pouring every ounce of strength I had toward him, trying to will him to stay awake, to fight. He kept his eyes on me and the look that was in them almost broke me. He knew he had lost. Knew what that meant for me, for our Pack. The anguish in them was unbearable; the look of a man watching his worst nightmare unfold before him, powerless to stop it. He was still trying, still fighting to get up.

I wanted to look away, but I wouldn’t do that to him. I held his gaze, tears streaming down my face as his body collapsed, his eyes rolled, and unconsciousness claimed him.