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“Yes?” Gunnar came online as Satin moved into the other room.
“The coya is breeding,” Satin said softly. “I advise against this. We should meet with teams, get her to Haven and take care of this ourselves.”
Gunnar was silent for long moments. “What’s her status?”
“Feverish, weak, extremely pale. I can scent conception, Alpha. I don’t know how her bodyguards are missing it, and it’s sapping her fast. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Teams three, eight and ten are converging on your location. Has she told you where she’s meeting the doctors?”
“Not yet. I’ll contact you when we have it and move in then. We can’t wait much longer, she’s going to collapse . . .” She paused.
“Satin?” Wolfe’s voice snapped into the link.
Satin moved to the door, stepped into the main room and cursed at the sight of her two Wolf Breed enforcers unconscious on the floor.
“Son of a bitch,” she cursed. “They’ve flown. My girls are down, I repeat, my girls are down and the others have flown the coop. Get those teams in here now.”
“I knew better than to trust those bitches,” Ashley snarled as she helped Anya sit up in her seat, holding her upright as Sharone maneuvered the car they had stolen the night before from its hidden parking place. “Damn them.”
Anya tried to shake awareness into her head. Something was wrong, she could feel it. She needed Del-Rey. She was so cold her teeth were nearly chattering. She was off balance, feverish.
She couldn’t believe what they overheard. That Wolfe and Hope would betray her. That the Wolf enforcers she had been sent to would be ready to turn her over to security teams so quickly.
; Armani was going to be pissed off.
“Something’s wrong with her.” Emma worried. “She’s getting too weak.”
“We’re going to meet with damned Coyote doctors,” Sharone cursed. “They’ll know what’s wrong.”
Anya hoped they did. She felt off balance, dazed. She needed Del-Rey’s touch, but the sexual intensity of the mating heat was missing. She could feel herself inside, crying out for him.
“Call him,” she whispered.
“What?” Ashley’s voice was frantic. “Anya, you have to sit up. You can’t be sick. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She forced her eyes to open. “Call my mate. Call him, Ashley.”
Her eyes widened in distress. “Coya, I don’t have a link,” she whispered. “We didn’t bring links.”
She shook her head. “When we reach the spa, take me to my papa and call my mate. I need my mate. Now.”
“We need to find Del-Rey,” Sharone insisted. “The meeting is only an hour away; we’ll have just enough time to get in place.”
“There are Breeds scouring the city,” Emma hissed. “Let me out. I’ll find a team and radio Del-Rey. What’s wrong with her?”
Anya could feel fear skating over her now. She shuddered, shook with it. She needed his touch desperately. She felt as though she were going to die without it.
She inhaled roughly. “The spa,” she said again. God, she could surely make it that far. “Get me there. Call from there. I need Del-Rey.”
“We’re nearing the spa, Coya,” Sharone answered, worry thickening her voice. “We’ll call him from there, I swear it.”
Del-Rey lost control at Satin’s message. His mate was pregnant and she was without him. She was ill, feverish, reacting with the same symptoms as a Coyote Breed with a life-threatening wound.
“Find her.” He turned on Brim. “Find her now.”
Brim was staring around the street they were on, his expression intense, furious.
