Page 5

“Zahra.”

Her head snaps around. She stops fighting. For one second, she just looks at me, down there on the floor under a pile of guards. She looks like somebody’s tearing something out of her, too.

She reaches back. Her hand’s stretched out to me.

It’s too far.

“Declan…”

The door slams shut between us.

My wolf throws his head back and howls.

And everything goes black.

Two

Zahra

I make it through exactly one security door before I start crying.

And I’m not talking about cute crying. I’m not talking about one pretty little tear rolling down my cheek while I stare bravely into the distance. I’m talking snot. I’m talking shoulders going up and down. I’m sobbing, in a prison hallway, in my heels, in front of my boss.

“Zahra.”

“I’m fine!”

“You’re crying.”

“I know I’m crying, Cillian!”

The guard walking ahead of us turns around to look. I give him a glare that could strip paint, and he turns right back around. Good. Because I’m about one concerned look away from completely losing my shit.

I don’t understand what’s happening to me. My legs feel weird. My chest hurts. My skin’s too tight. And every step I take away from that room feels wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Like my whole body’s screaming at me to turn the fuck around and go back.

I stop dead in the middle of the corridor. Cillian almost walks into me.

“They shot him,” I say.

“They tranquilized him.”

“They tased him! Like three times!”

“At least three, yes.”

“You’re not helping!”

“I’m not trying to help,” Cillian says, in that calm, measured voice of his. “I’m trying to get you out of a maximum-security prison before you decide to run back in there and bite a guard.”

“I’m not going to bite anybody!”

One eyebrow goes up. Ugh. I hate that eyebrow. I’ve hated it for the entire three years I’ve worked for this man. It says, I’m older than you, I’m smarter than you, and unfortunately for everybody, I’m probably right. Most days I live to prove it wrong. Today, I want to slap it off his face.

We start walking again. Another gate. Another buzzer. Another steel door slamming shut behind us, and I jump about a foot, because for a second, all I can hear is the sound he made when he hit the floor.

I can see it. I can’t stop seeing it! This huge, scarred, terrifying man, going down under five guards, with darts sticking out of him. Reaching for me. His eyes were gray when I walked in there. They were gold when it all went to hell. And he said my name like…

Nope. No. I’m not thinking about how he said my name.