“I thought he was going to kill you,” she whispered.
I blinked down at her. “Dominic?”
He was powerful, but it was more his status that held weight. Dominic’s aura wasn’t anything special—his packmates had the brawn to match his brains.
“Holden.”
Ah. He was more concerning, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to let Holden be the one to take me out.
“I wouldn’t let him kill me. Not while I still need to protect you.”
She hugged me tighter.
My pack couldn’t help but close in, Karma’s eyes nearly black as he tried to keep a hold on his control. We could have lost him to a rut if things had gone too far, and trying to bring a rutting alpha to our appeal would be a fucking disaster.
We needed to get back to our cell.
And this time, maybe stay there. No more shows of force—as solid of an idea as it had been.
Sweeping Crescent up into my arms, I let the alphas crowd around us both. Karma was annoyingly touchy. He wouldn’t take his hand off my hip, and I begrudgingly let him have the contact.
Once we got back to the room, he could curl up with Crescent in her nest and he wouldn’t need to play alpha with me anymore.
The Emerald pack split off to their cell when we reached our wing. I shoved open the door to ours, inhaling a deep breath of scents that didn’t involve Holden’s vile smell of sour whiskey.
I placed Crescent down into her nest and Karma dove in beside her. “Gonna shower quick.” I kissed her head.
Holden hadn’t touched me, but it was like his scent clung to my skin anyway. I needed to wash it off.
Crescent pouted, but curled into Karma’s embrace.
I went into the attached bathroom, but when I went to strip off my pants I froze in my tracks.
No.
I frantically patted down both pockets.
There was… nothing.
No matter how many times I shoved my hands into them, that didn’t change.
The key…
Shit.
The key wasgone.
22
Seven days until appeal
CRESCENT
It was the next day—and well past lunch already—and my pack was panicking.
They’d cuddled me all night, though there had been a scrap between Karma and Phantom at one point (and still no hint of consummation, but if they wanted to take it slow, I would spare a rare prayer for patience).
Now it was past midday, and they kept stepping out to talk in hushed voices in the hallway or bathroom, where I couldn’t hear anything other than the worried tone of their words. As the day went on, they turned the cell inside out four times, leaving only my nest undisturbed.