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When we reached her truck, I put her down and strode to my bike to get her my jacket. Her door closed, and I turned.

“I need to get home,” she said and fired the thing to life.

“Wait.”

But she was already pulling out onto the road.

Fuck.

Swinging a leg over my bike, I started it and roared after her. There she went, running from me again.

I told her I’d never stop chasing her.

I didn’t think she’d believed me, but she would.

Chapter 21

Willow

When I pulled up outside the house and parked beside four bikes and a car I didn’t recognize, I was still shaken. My mind struggling to decide what was real and what wasn’t. What had already happened, and what could happen if I didn’t work out who was under those hooded cloaks.

Azel.

Maybe he’d been a figment of my imagination? Maybe the crones had been playing with me—or maybe the people under those cloaks were trying to bring that monster back. To set him free.

I had no idea, but I was sure that what I’d seen was the future, our future if I couldn’t stop whoever was behind everything that had happened.

Three witches were working to hurt us. Three, our power number. That, combined with the dark magic they were using, meant they had some serious power behind them—more than I’d imagined.

My door opened before I could do it, and then Warrick was there. He hauled me out, his face in mine.

“I told you to wait. You’re in no fucking state to drive yourself anywhere, not after what you’ve just been through.” His hand carefully slid down my arm and lifted it, then brushed my hair back, checking my neck. The slice on my arm was already fading, thanks to Warrick.

“I’m fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. But how the hell could I be?

“Bullshit,” he said, seeing right through me.

“I’m sorry, okay, I just…” I struggled for anything to add. My only thought had been to get the hell out of there, to get away from the darkness, the awful feeling of dread…the living nightmare the crones had shown me, it was all I could see. I’d wanted to get to my family, to see for myself that they were okay.

Warrick bit off a curse, and then his hand curled around the back of my neck. He dipped his head, pressed his lips to my temple, and breathed me in, almost like doing it comforted him as well. How could that be? This was the alpha of the hellhounds, a male who had limited emotions, was utterly fearless—a male who had lived for a thousand years.

“Warrick?” I said, because he was still holding me, and the longer he did, the more my stupid heart beat faster and the closer to him I wanted to get.

“Shut up,” he said gruffly, then finally lifted his head and urged me to get moving toward the house.

“Charming.”

He growled. “Haven’t recovered from that shit back there, dove. I’m not ready for you to give me attitude, and I’m sure as fuck not ready to spar with that sarcastic mouth either.”

I pretended to zip my lips and throw away the key, trying to make light because this sure as hell wasn’t normal Warrick behavior, and I didn’t know what to do with that, not with everything else running through my mind.

Had seeing me lost in my mind back there truly unsettled him? I didn’t think he was capable of being unsettled. I’d been kind of out of it but remembered him holding me tight. I thought he might have been shaking when he helped me dress.

“Come back to me, precious one.”

The words drifted through my mind, Warrick’s voice, low and full of fear, right before he’d said something in his own language. Had I imagined it? Was it all part of the vision, or had he actually said that to me?

Fender was standing outside the door when I walked around the house, and he gave Warrick a chin lift.