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PROLOGUE

SAMUEL

" E MMETT!"

Jolting upright in my favorite chair, I'm shocked to find my heart already beating out of my chest. In my mind, my alpha paces like a caged animal, but I'm wary to let him out without reason.

"WAKE UP!"

"WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?!" Emmett's shout follows Oliver's panicked screeching upstairs.

The bond, which was peaceful if not a little anxious when I passed out in the living room, is now trembling with fear. I thought they were fucking sleeping. Wide awake now, I'm worried I won't be able to keep my feral half in control if I don't get an explanation soon.

Thundering down the stairs alerts me to their presence before their bare chests and haphazard put together selves are rushing for the front door. I'm on my feet in a flash and following without stopping for my shoes.

I can't hold in my confusion as the cool night air slaps me in the face and the pounding in my chest threatens to steal the air from my lungs. "What's going on?!"

My packmates don't even spare me a glance and bolt across the lawn without care for each other too, it seems. The streetlamps cast shadows around our sprinting bodies on the street below us.

"Vincent!" Oliver cries a few yards ahead.

I'm almost to the sidewalk when I realize the shadows aren't playing tricks on me; shrapnel, two shattered mirrors, a leather seat, and ice cream litter the asphalt on the corner of our road.

My little brother crashes to his knees, ripping open his gray sweatpants and scraping his skin without thought. I stumble my way to them, my throat closing over at the sight before me. Oli chokes on a gasp while I can't seem to catch a breath.

"Oh my god," Emmett breaths, coming to a stop beside me. "Oh fuck. Oh FUCK! I don't have my phone. I don't have my phone!"

My friend vibrates with terror while his beta clutches an unconscious, bloody Vincent to his heaving chest. Digging into my jeans, I do my best to soothe Emmett. "Em, I have mine. Help Oliver, make sure Vince is breathing. Roll him onto his side. Fuck," I mutter, my emotions battering against my breastbone make my knees buckle.

With nine-one-one dispatch on the line, I can't look away from the rise and fall of Vincent's chest. The alpha who's meant to be my brother in every way but blood. He's the one scent matched pack member who has never let our omega down.

Our omega.

An explosion of panic, far worse than I have ever known fires from every nerve ending. The need to make sure my mate is okay now rides every fucking thought and behavior. "AMAYA!"

My phone meets the ground, mixing in with the rest of the shattered pieces of Vincent's bike. Officers are on their way. Vincent is being watched over.

But who's watching over our omega?