Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 97

“Where’s Bree?” The question tumbles from my lips. My gaze flits across the tangled undergrowth, the silvery moonlight casting long, slithering shadows on the forest my men are coming out of, they create a perimeter immediately. I strain my ears for a sign, a whimper or rustle that would tell me where Bree is I know she wouldn’t have let him walk home on his own or did he not make it to her place at all? Peering around, there’s nothing and no one else except a dead body discarded on the ground of a man.

Max’s sobbing slows as he clings to me, his small fingers digging into my arms. His eyes still glazed with terror. I pull him closer to shield him with my body, even as I scan for any hint of where Bree went.

The thought of my guards having to wrestle her to safety sends a shiver down my spine. Bree is like a fawn, skittish and delicate; though she wouldn’t be in wolf form, however, the thought of their rough hands on her makes my stomach turn. She wouldn’t understand, would only feel the threat, and would fight against it with the wild panic of a cornered animal.

“Stay close, Max,” I murmur, my voice a low command meant to soothe. He nods against my chest, his breaths coming in jagged hitches. With one arm securely around him, I raise my other hand to signal the men and am about to send them off for her while I take Max home only Max lashes out once again, wailing and screaming.

“No… Not without Bree!” he screams.

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despite the dread that tightens around my own heart like a vice and he stops thrashing suddenly

of water. “She jumped… You

look at the waterfall, I stagger a step back in

“What?” I worry.

but then… she started to shift.” Bree, the rogue who’d found her way into

for my son.

instruct, though my voice sounds distant to my own ears, drowned

Max by the back of his pajama top. The boy is wild, hysteria and fear pumping through his small frame as he tries

but fierce, “this is why a rogue should never be near

in Damian’s grip like a caught animal. His face is streaked with tears and dirt, his eyes wide pools reflecting the moonlight. “Bree! Bree!”

it’s no use. His little heart is pounding against my palm as

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any sign of her. Not wanting to believe she plunged from this height, she