She reached for the juice box and ripped open the side tab, pouring it in his mouth as well. The mass finally slid down. “Okay, good. Eat some more. You have to wake up.” She kept her voice loud so that any observers could hear it.

She spooned up more oatmeal and added her blood, hoping the camera wasn’t catching any of her actions. This time, more blood soaked into the oatmeal, and she didn’t need the juice.

The lumps slid down his throat again.

He still didn’t move.

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

For the first time, Adare didn’t have to plan a Cyst attack around the time of day. It no longer mattered. He half-hung out of one of the two attack helicopters belonging to the Seven, his weapon held with ease in his hands. It was snowing again, and ice crystals battered his face and the craft, but they flew true and close to the tree line.

Ronan hung out the other side, and the second they set down, he’d launch into motion.

They landed within a gulley between two sloping hills, about ten miles from the compound to which Emma had tracked Grace. While New Mexico was high desert, there was as much snow here as there had been in Colorado. He tucked his head and hit the ground, sinking to his waist in the powder and immediately pushing himself into a run.

The schematics of the compound ran through his brain, as did the plan they had created on the flight there. With only six of them, they couldn’t leave anybody to guard the helicopters.

He ran between trees, his pack heavy on his back but not slowing him. Nothing could slow him. The sense that Grace was near and in danger fought with the certainty that she was all right. For now.

The mating mark pulsed and heated on his palm, demanding he go faster.

So he did, his brothers keeping pace, all silent and ready for battle. Today there would be no mercy. No vacillation on whether to kill or question to gain information.

The only goal was rescue. Whatever he had to do to save Grace and Benny, he would do. Quickly and instinctively. So when he came across the first guard patrol, three miles out from the perimeter, he sliced right across the first male’s neck without slowing his stride.

Garrett took care of the other.

The storm strengthened, golf-ball sized hail pummeling them as if Mother Nature wanted to help but couldn’t figure out where to aim. One chunk of ice hit him on the cheek, and he blinked, running even faster through a series of tall trees, their boughs heavy with ice and snow.

He reached out with his mind, searching for his mate.