Devan. Bewilderment fell away. Zio took the man’s hand and scrambled to his feet. He scented the air. Still thick with blood and a hundred strange shifters, Devan’s scent was fainter than ever, but Zio didn’t need it. The pull in his chest was enough.
He turned into the fading sunlight. “This way.”
Despite Varian’s house being where Devan’s scent was strongest, instinct led Zio away from it and to the barracks. Friends and brothers lay dead inside, but he forced himself to keep moving until he came to the intelligence buildings.
Michael’s scent was strong. Zio followed it inside. In the surveillance bunker, he found Vicky, long hair fanned out in a pool of blood. “She was shot. Look.”
The Shadow Clan soldier peered around him. “And she’s not the only one. We’re sorry for your loss, but we need to keep moving.”
Zio nodded and stepped over Vic’s body. If Gale really was dead, he’d bury her himself... after he’d found Devan.
Beyond the surveillance bunkers, deep underground, dank corridors led to the interrogation units Zio had rarely visited. Built to conceal scent and noise, they were cut off from the world, both human and shifter.
Zio shuddered, but with every step, the call to Devan grew stronger. “It’s this way.”
“What is?” the Shadow Clan soldier asked. “What’s down there?”
“Cells.”
“You don’t take prisoners.”
“We changed our minds. Devan wouldn’t let us kill them.”
A soft snort answered Zio. Distantly, he wondered how well his companion knew Devan, but the curious thought evaporated before it could take hold, beaten back by the increasing certainty that they were running out of time.
He darted along the corridor, the Shadow Clan soldier a heartbeat behind. At the end, a thick door, coated in scent-masking sealant, separated them from the cells the intelligence unit had hastily constructed a month ago.
There was no key—it was lost to the enemy—and the door had been designed to keep people out, humans and shifters alike. Zio reached out with his gift, summoned his powers from the depths of the earth, but as the ground shook, the door didn’t shift.
Furious, Zio hammered on it with his fist. Kicked out and roared. The clan soldier stepped around him. “Let me try.”
He laid his hands over the lock and his hands glowed. Molten brass dripped from the lock to the floor, taking the surface of the door with it. Heat filled the tight space. Energy crackled.
Gods. But there was no time to stand in awe. Zio blinked, and the door was open.
He pushed past the clan soldier and charged through the door. Devan’s scent hit him like a punch to the gut, and he almost fell to his knees, but the smell of fresh blood—Devan’s blood—kept him upright.
Zio shot down the new corridor, closing the distance between the door and the cages in a split second. “Devan!”
But there was no answer. Their bond had led Zio to the right place, but they were too late. Crumpled on the filthy ground and guarded by a wolf Zio didn’t recognise, Devan was already dead.
* * *
Grief was a slow tsunami, creeping up on Zio in sharp, brutal waves. He roared but didn’t hear it. Fell to his knees, but the impact of the cold ground was a lifetime away.
The Shadow Clan soldier pushed passed him, putting himself between Zio and the female wolf. He advanced on her, power shimmering around him in a way Zio had only ever seen in Devan, but he didn’t shift. He stopped in front of the wolf and spread his hands. “Move.”
A low whine pierced the air.
“Move,” the soldier repeated. “I know you’re protecting him, but you don’t need to anymore. Devan’s mate is here. His clan. Hisfamily.We’ll take care of him now.”
The present tense broke through Zio’s haze. Confounded, he watched as the female wolf submitted and the clan soldier tore the front panel from the cage and tossed it aside. “Come, Zio. Devan needs you now.”
“He’s dead.”
“Is he? Come closer and see for yourself.”
The only thing worse than knowing Devan was dead was seeing it with his own eyes, but as the clan soldier reached for Devan, the bond surged to life.