“Yup, and wants to see you badly,” Olie replied.
Grasping his hands together, Wesley whispered, “The gods have answered my prayers.” Then he asked, “Is my son all right? He’s not hurt, is he?”
“No, he’s fine,” Mac murmured, placing the end of his stethoscope on Wesley’s chest. After listening to his heart, he moved it over and said, “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” After having Wesley do it several times, he said, “Good…Ollie's gonna check your blood pressure while I examine your wife, okay?”
“I'd better wake her up, otherwise she might scream,” Wesley said, turning back to the bed. Sitting down, he lowered his mouth to her ear and murmured, “Wake up, darling…Ollie’s here and wants to see you.” When there wasn’t a response, Wesley shook her slightly and repeated himself, louder this time, but she still didn’t move. Worried, he rolled her onto her back, and as her arm flopped down next to her, he feared something was dreadfully wrong. His gaze shot to Mac’s. “She’s not waking up…she was okay when she went to sleep.”
Mac leaned down over Wesley and felt Heather’s neck for a pulse. Alarmed when he found it to be weak and irregular, he barked, “Move!” Taking Wesley’s place, Mac checked Heather’s pupils for movement and when he couldn’t find any, he looked up at Colton. “She’s dying, and I don’t have the equipment here to save her.”
“Move aside,” Colton said. Then, once next to Heather, he placed his hand on her, feeling how cold she was. Mac was right; she was dying. Calling on Archangel Raphael, he placed his fingers on her chest and felt a surge of power running through them and into her near-lifeless body. A blinding green flash filled the air,lighting up the cell before it faded, prompting Colton to remove his fingers while waiting for a sign that they’d been successful at reviving her.
“What did he do?” Wesley asked, his voice filled with fear.
“He’s saving Aunt Heather,” Ollie murmured, staring down at her. He’d never heard of Raphael’s Power until Mac had explained it to him, and if his mate was right, it was what miracles were all about.
It took several minutes before Colton could see Heather’s face begin to pink up from the deathly pallor it had been before he used his power. Now, it was only a matter of time until she regained consciousness. Standing, he looked at Wesley and said, “Better sit down…she’s gonna be frightened when she opens her eyes and sees a bunch of strangers staring at her.”
Wes did as Colton suggested. Gazing at his wife in amazement, he watched as her skin turned to a healthy hue, marveling at how young she looked. Years of long hours toiling for the Alpha had taken their toll on her, but now, it was as if they had never happened. Gently brushing her hair off her forehead, he couldn’t resist leaning down and gently kissing her rosy lips.
Heather’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at her husband, whose face filled her view. A small smile graced her lips as she reached up to touch the tear slowly sliding down his face. “My love…why are you crying?”
Shaking his head, Wes murmured, “I’m just happy you’re here.”
“Of course, I am…where else would I be?” Heather asked.
“Nowhere,” Wes replied.
“That’s right,” Heather murmured. “There’s nowhere else I want to be except with you. Remember? I promised you that on our wedding day.”
“I remember, darling,” Wes said, gathering his wife into his arms and hugging her tight. “Always together.”
Chapter 30
Returning her husband’s hug, Heather felt peace for the first time since that awful day. “Wesley,” she murmured, “we need to find our son!”
“We will,” Wesley replied. “Oliver came to get us.”
Heather shifted her gaze and spotted her nephew standing next to the bed. Letting go of her husband, she reached for him, exclaiming, “Ollie! I’m so happy to see you! How are you? Is everything all right?”
Ollie stepped into his aunt’s arms and closed his eyes as her familiar scent swirled around him. Despite the foul smell that permeated the basement, he could still detect hers—the one that comforted him after his parents died. “Hi, Aunt Heather,” he murmured.
“Mac,” Dylon said, “if they can travel, we need to go.”
Hearing Dylon’s voice, Heather looked over her nephew’s shoulder at the group of strange men in her cell. “Ollie,” she whispered, “are those men with you?”
Smiling, Ollie said, “Yeah, they came to help me rescue you and Uncle Wesley.” Pointing to the man next to him, he said, “He’s my mate, Dr. Mac, and the others are his cousins.” Turning to his uncle, he asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“Can’t happen soon enough,” Wesley replied, helping his wife off the bed.
Nodding, Dylon said, “Ollie, please take your aunt and uncle upstairs and wait for us by the back door. Mac, you and Colton can go with them.” He waited until they were gone before he said to Sawyer and Zane, “We can’t leave any evidence behindthat could link the Blackwood Pack to their escape. That means everything needs to be wiped down to remove all fingerprints and our DNA, cuz when this Alpha finds out his ‘slaves’ are gone, all hell’s gonna break loose,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “So grab one of these special cloths I brought along and get going.”
“We don’t have to do that,” Sawyer said. “According to Oracle, once someone is cloaked, every part of them is invisible…including fingerprints and any DNA. Even a magic user can’t use a spell to find them.”
“Fucking cool,” Zane murmured, handing back his cloth to Dylon.
Nodding, Dylon looked around the cell, then said, “New plan. Time for a redirection…Zane, tear the bedding apart and if you can break the bed with no noise, do it. Sawyer, we need to break one of the door hinges without making noise. I want it to look like a powerful creature took Theo’s parents.”
Zane grinned as he ripped up the sheets and blankets, then picked up the pillow. Extending a claw from one of his fingers, he shredded the pillow, sending feathers flying. After that was done, he turned his attention to the bed, pulling it apart until there were only pieces on the floor. Noticing a small chest in the corner, he opened the first drawer, frowning at the threadbare clothes neatly folded inside. “They won’t need these anymore,” he muttered. He scooped them up and ripped them apart, smiling grimly as the tiny pieces fluttered to the floor. Then, looking into the bottom drawer, he rummaged through old towels and odd pieces of cloth, gathering them up and throwing around the cell haphazardly. He was about to shut the drawer when he spied a small wooden box in the back corner. He picked it up and slipped it into his pocket to give to Theo’s parents later.