Dark Wolf (Claimed by Wolves 3)

It’s one of the few that Archer taught me during our sessions, and I hold my breath as I pour every bit of power and concentration I can into the spell. My skills are rudimentary at best, but I’ve made this one work before. I pray it’ll do what I need it to now.

Archer’s brows draw together as he sees my hand moving, and he makes a noise in his throat as if he’s about to speak.

Then his eyelids droop. He blinks twice, slower each time, before his head gently lolls to one side.

I slip out from between the bodies of my other sleeping mates, my heart pounding hard as adrenaline, guilt, and determination fill my chest.

Please forgive me. I love you.

9

Archer

I blink awake, groggy and disoriented from the weirdly deep sleep I clawed my way out of to be here. The room is shadowed and still, filled with small snores and light breathing. Trystan’s back burns hot against my legs, and I think, Jesus, he’s like a furnace. How does Sable sleep next to that?

I’m sitting up, my back against the headboard and my head angled down awkwardly in a position not meant for sleeping. I tilt it the other way, hoping to pop the crick out of my neck. The bones crackle like rapid gunfire, and I groan with relief, sagging back against the headboard and glancing toward the window. Outside the glass, light creeps through the crack in the curtains, and I can taste dawn on the horizon. I must not have slept well, considering how hazy and exhausted I feel.

Then I jerk fully upright, adrenaline surging through my veins.

I fell asleep on watch. I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping at all.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I never do that. Falling asleep when your pack is depending on you to keep watch is the ultimate betrayal—a letdown punishable by pack law. It goes against every instinct I have as a wolf. But I did.

I fell asleep.

My heart pounds like thunder as I look around the bed and take roll call. Trystan, Ridge, and Dare are spread out on the mattress, sound asleep… but Sable is nowhere to be seen.

She’s gone.

Fuck.

I grab T

rystan’s shoulder and shake him. “Hey, wake up, man.”

He mutters under his breath and rolls his shoulder to get my hand to release him, but doesn’t wake up. Just burrows deeper into the pillow.

Getting to my knees, I reach for Ridge on the other side of him. “Ridge? Wake up. Sable’s gone.”

Ridge turns his head away from me, but it’s the only source of life or movement I get.

“Guys, wake up!” I yell, lowering my voice so that it booms through the room with a note of command. No wolf can ignore an alpha’s demand, not even while sleeping.

But even though they all shift in place like they hear me, they settle back down and fall back into sleep immediately.

Panic floods me. This is all wrong. Wolves are usually light sleepers—we have to be, especially with the witch threat looming. It’s not normal for a shifter to not wake immediately. Every sound, every movement, could be the one that heralds disaster for the pack. So we sense it all, from the smallest rustle to the loudest footstep. When the lookout screams for everyone to wake up, they’re supposed to wake up.

I leap out of bed and rush to the wall near the doorway, slamming my palm into the light switch. The overhead light winks awake, spilling a harsh yellow glow over the bed. Then I go back to the edge of the mattress and give Trystan a hard shake.

He finally jolts awake, sitting straight up in bed and looking around the room as if he doesn’t recognize it. Then he squints up at me, a deep line forming between his brows. “What? What’s going on?”

“Sable’s gone,” I tell him shortly, punching Ridge in the arm. “Ridge, wake up.”

Trystan uses his foot to shove Dare, where he’s curled up asleep at his side. The two of us manage to get them moving, though it takes a few minutes for either of them to be cognizant. Then we’re all awake, and we’re all confused, caught under a fog of strange, unexplainable exhaustion.

“What the fuck?” Dare says as he staggers to his feet and sways like a drunk after a long happy hour. He rubs his eyes and then rests a hand against the wall, stumbling two steps sideways before he manages to right himself.