Page 64 of Wild Games
I take the stairs, three at a time, fighting my wolf for every step. He wants to run full out, shift and race through the house, but I force him to stay human.
The silver shackles burn with each movement, the metal toxic to our kind. My wrists are swollen, skin blistered where the silver touches. Blood trails down my hands, making my grip on the railing slippery. But I couldn’t bring myself to take them off, choosing to endure the pain as some kind of penance for not being the wolf my mate deserves.
The kitchen door swings open as I reach the top. Jamie emerges carrying a tray of coffee mugs. Her eyes go wide when she sees me, shackled and wearing blood-stained scrubs.
"Jax? What the hell is going on? Dean’s been trying to mind link you…"
I brush past without answering. No time. The pressure in my chest is building to something close to panic. My wolf claws at my control, demanding we move faster. Whatever’s going down, Camille doesn’t like it. That’s all I need to know.
The main hallway stretches endlessly. I stick to the walls, avoiding the central corridor where early risers gather. They stare as I pass, having mind-link conversations about what a state I’m in and what on earth I’ve gotten myself into now.
Racing forward, I pass a group of wolves too engrossed in their gossiping to sense me coming.
"...never seen Dean that angry..."
"...Williams had it coming..."
"...wonder what will happen to his son now..."
Their voices fade as they spot me, pressing back against the walls to let me pass.
The clinic is close now. That sense of wrongness intensifies with each step, my wolf more agitated by the second. By the time I near the clinic door, we're in complete agreement, our mate needs us.
Male voices filter through the door, coming from the room with my unmarked mate in it.
As her discomfort intensifies, my claws extend in response, tips pressing through my fingernails. I press my ear against the wall beside the door, forcing myself to listen before charging in. My scent is all over the clinic. It will probably buy me a few seconds of eavesdropping before they realise I’m actually here.
"Camille, you need to think about this." Zane's voice carries that lecturing tone. "I can scent you've been together, but his wolf is dangerous. More dangerous than you realize. I knew it the second I saw him."
My hands curl into fists. Fresh blood wells around the shackles as my claws dig into my palms.
"He might seem in control now, or that he’s not that way around you," Zane continues, and I hear his boots pace across linoleum. "But he has a history. Unpredictable. Borderline feral. There's a reason Dean keeps him away from inter-pack functions."
Through the wall, I hear movement. Someone pacing. And I can sense the worry underneath her calm facade.
Zane isn’t letting up. “I’m not just saying this because of what he did to my father.” A sigh. "He's broken, Camille. Years of beatings, almost dying at his father's hands, and seeing Maya, his sister, almost killed... it’s left him unstable. I've seen his medical files. It’s a miracle he survived. The fact he lived makeshim strong, but it also makes him unpredictable. A wild animal that might turn on anyone, even those trying to help him."
My teeth lengthen fully to fangs, and I clench my jaw hard to keep from snarling. Blood fills my mouth.
Then the other wolf speaks. Smooth voice. Charming. Or so he thinks. I’d probably say smarmy and condescending. Raven. The wolf from the lake. The one who stares at her everywhere she goes.
"Zane's right, Cammy." The endearment is casual, possessive, and I want to rip his tongue out for daring to speak it. "Remember that rogue you tried to rehabilitate? Nearly tore your throat out.”
Camille’s heart rate spikes. That comment struck a chord with her, and I frown. They’re from the same pack?
“Dad always said you were too selfless to be an enforcer.”
Is he suggesting that being kind makes her bad at job? If she doesn’t punch him, I will.
"That was different," Camille's voice is tight. “I was young and stupid.”
Raven’s wolf bristles, not liking something about Camille’s remark.
"But was it different?" His footsteps cross the room, getting closer to her, and I crack my neck, ready to go in there and do damage if he dares to touch her. "You have a saviour complex, Cammy. Always have. But some wolves can't be saved. And this one..."
Camille groans. "Raven, I’m not talking about my love life with you… of all people. It’s none of your business. Either of you."
The growl builds in my chest before I can stop it, vibrating through the floorboards, as I shoulder through the door and register the room in snapshots. Zane by the far wall, Camille on the exam bed, her arms folded across her torso defensively.