EIGHTEEN

“CALLA,” SHAY WHISPERED, gently shaking my shoulder.

The sound of his voice drew me from dreams haunted by cries of anguish and slithering shadows that threatened to engulf me.

For a moment I couldn’t remember where I was. I only heard the warmth of Shay’s voice and caught the subtle allure of his scent. I started to lean forward, aching for his closeness.

He looked puzzled when my fingers traced the line of his jaw. “They asked me to wake you. It’s time.”

The sweetness of the moment was driven away by the sudden cold slap of knowing where I was and what I was about to do. I blinked sleep away, sitting up quickly and then regretting it when Ansel stirred. He didn’t wake fully but continued to mutter, restless in sleep as he had been all night. My mood plummeted even further when I remembered that I’d tried to help him, but couldn’t.

“Come on,” Shay said. “The others are waiting downstairs.”

We left the room quietly.

“How is he?” Shay asked as we descended the stairs.

“I tried to turn him.” I had to lean on the railing as grief knocked against me.

“You did?” Shay asked. “From the expression on your face, I’m guessing it didn’t work.”

I nodded. He slid his arm around my shoulders, brushing his lips against my temple.

“It’s good you tried, Cal. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said, glancing back at the dark hallway. “He just seems . . . broken.”

“Yeah,” Shay said with a shudder. “I’ve only been able to change for a little while, but it’s such a part of me. I can’t imagine losing it.”

I nodded, watching him. Was it true? Did Shay really have such a strong connection to his inner wolf? Or was he just trying to sympathize with Ansel?

“I should be going with you,” he said.

“No,” I said. “The Searchers are right. You’re too much to risk.”

He dropped his arm from my shoulders, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You still don’t think I can fight.”

“I know you can fight,” I said. “I’ve seen you fight more than once. You’re a warrior. That’s not the issue.”

“I could help,” he said, glancing sidelong at me. “I know I could.”

“How well you can fight doesn’t matter this time.” I shook my head. “We’ll still be facing wraiths. Until you have the Cross, you can’t fight them.”

“Neither can any of you,” he growled, and I saw his sharp canines catch the light.

“I know.” A heavy weight lay on my chest like a boulder.

A suicidemission.

We were risking so much, and I didn’t even know if the rest of the pack was still alive. If Ren was still alive. What if we’d already lost all of them?

I could hear the Searchers milling around in the empty foyer. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Shay grasped my upper arms, turning me. Before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine. I leaned into him, opening my mouth, welcoming the kiss. His hands slid down my arms, fingers digging into my skin. I could taste his fear and wondered if I should pull away, knowing he drank in my own anxieties with each caress. I began to tremble, both from the fire that lit my veins as the kiss deepened and the sudden awareness that if things in Vail went badly, I might not kiss Shay again. Ever.

He broke off the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. Ansel needs you. Let Monroe take the Searchers in. They can pull off the rescue without you.”

“I have to,” I said, pushing him back. “I’m the only one who can convince the pack that the Searchers can be trusted.”

“If anything happens to you—”

“Here they are.” Adne appeared in the stairwell, clucking her tongue. “No time for long good-byes. Haven’t you heard? Romance is dead. We’re on the clock.”

“Sorry.” I slipped out of Shay’s embrace, fearful that if I stayed close to him any longer, I’d give in to my fear, abandoning any hope that I could save my packmates.

You’re still their alpha, Cal. The pack needs you. You know who you are.

I clung to that idea as I strode across the empty space, finding Ethan and Connor awaiting me.

Connor nodded as I approached. “Isaac will keep an eye on your brother while we’re gone.”

“I will too.” Shay had come up behind me.

“Thanks,” I said, unable to look at him, worrying I’d have an attack of cowardice sprouting from my own selfish desire to stay near him.

What have I become? Had giving in to my love for Shay made me weak? I felt like I had no strength, nothing that reflected the person I’d always thought I was. Steel resolve, independence—those traits I’d valued seemed to have drained away over the last week. I desperately wanted to find myself again. I had to prove to Ansel and my pack that I hadn’t abandoned them. If I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

Monroe came striding in from the kitchen. “What’s the situation?”

“All present and accounted for,” Connor said, sheathing a dagger in his boot.

Monroe nodded. “The door Adne will open is in a dead end alley adjacent to Efron’s club. We’ll break in through the side entrance and make our way to the prison.”