Page 20

King

A week passed before Beck’s men arrived. Minus Beck and half his team.

Alden, his second-in-command, gave me the rundown, his voice tight with restrained emotion. “We parachuted in, and Beck was the last to jump. He never made the rendezvous point. We’ve been searching ever since, but there’s been no sign of him.” His expression shifted slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “The team voted, and half stayed behind to keep looking for him. It went directly against Beck’s orders, and he’ll be pissed when he finds out. They were supposed to make the rendezvous point no matter what and leave anyone behind who didn’t show when it was time to move.”

That was Beck, always putting the mission first. It wasn’t that he lacked compassion for his fellow Warriors; it was that he was willing to make the hard choices for the greater good.

But nothing short of death would have kept Beck from making that rendezvous.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. My friend was likely dead.

I needed time to think because the decisive orders I was known for could be the wrong ones right now.

Between the weight of losing Beck and my constant worry for Marinah, the pressure built until I couldn’t take it anymore. When the sun went down, I took off running, making it clear I didn’t want or need company.

The urge to head west and search for Beck myself was overwhelming.

The urge to storm Washington and take Marinah out of there was even harder to resist.

Mate, Beast whispered in my head as I ran.

The K-5 settled into my system, sharpening my focus and easing my breathing, but it did nothing to quiet the storm raging inside me.

I hadn’t realized how hard this would be. At night I woke in a cold sweat, haunted by nightmares where Marinah was in danger, and I couldn’t reach her. But it wasn’t just a damned dream.

It was reality.

She was in danger, and the constant battle to stay away and trust her to handle herself was eating me alive.

She can do it, I told Beast firmly.

Keep mate safe, he growled back, the ache in his voice matching my own.

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I didn’t need to look to know it was Nokita. Even though I’d told him to leave me alone, he picked up his pace until we were side by side.

“I heard about Beck,” he said quietly.

I grunted and kept running. Dwelling on Beck wouldn’t change anything. I had to accept what happened. We knew there would be casualties on this mission. Beck was probably furious he hadn’t gone down in a blaze of glory defending Shadow Warriors.

The ache over his loss would stay with me for a long time, most likely forever, like my uncle’s grief for the brothers he’d lost.

A few miles later, we ran into a herd of about ten hellhounds. Nokita and I spread out, backing away from each other to prepare for the fight.

We attacked in quick bursts, coming at the hounds from different sides to confuse them. Race in, decapitate, retreat.

We repeated the tactic over and over until we were drenched in blood and gore, and the hounds were nothing but eviscerated bodies at our feet.

The battle gave us something else to think about besides Beck’s loss, which was exactly what we needed.

Thankfully, neither of us ended up bitten or scratched. It quieted the rage inside me.

For the first time since Marinah left, I didn’t dream.