Heartsong (Green Creek 3)

I was being watched.

I glared up at it. “Is this what you want?” I shouted. “I don’t know who the fuck you think I am, but you’re wrong. Let me out!”

Of course, there was no response.

Which made me angrier.

I overturned the cot, throwing the thin frame against the wall, where it snapped and fell to the ground in pieces.

It wasn’t enough. I needed to break it more. Except I tripped over my backpack, which had been underneath it.

I landed on the ground, hard. I groaned as I rolled onto my back.

I hoped whoever was watching me got a good laugh out of that, and that they choked on it.

I sat up, pulling my backpack toward me. My glasses sat on top of it, thick frames with nonprescription lenses. I put them on, brushing my hair back off my face. I unzipped the main pocket of the bag, sure that most of my hastily packed belongings would be gone.

They weren’t.

Everything still seemed to be there.

In the bottom left corner was my mother’s driver’s license.

Next to it was a stone wolf.

The journal I’d found in Michelle’s office sat underneath them both.

I grimaced as the mark on my neck pulled.

I pulled the backpack into my lap, hugging it close.

And then I did the only thing I could.

I waited.

Time became elastic. I didn’t know if it was day or night. I was disoriented. The room around me was large, but it felt like the walls were inching closer and closer.

It might have been only minutes or it could have been hours and hours before the door opened again.

The Alphas walked in, followed by the witch.

I hugged my backpack closer in case they were here to take it from me. If they were, they were in for a fight.

The witch shook his head at the sight of me. “I should have broken those damn glasses while I had the chance.”

I snapped my teeth at him. “I’d like to see you try.”

Gordo rolled his eyes. “Sure, kid. I’ll get right on that.”

The Alphas didn’t speak. The bigger one stood with his hands folded behind him, a grave look on his face. The other one—Joe—was next to him, their arms brushing. It struck me then that they moved in sync with each other. Even their breathing was in unison. I didn’t know how there could be two Alphas in a pack, but here it was, right in front of me. They were a pair. Mated. It should have been impossible.

And yet here they were.

Another man came in behind them, closed the door, and leaned against it. His head was shaved to the scalp, and he had a thick beard, but it didn’t completely cover the tattoo on his neck. A raven, the wings spreading out over his throat, tail feathers disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

The same raven that was on the witch’s arm.

So that’s how it was. Witch and wolf. Alpha and Alpha.