I lean forward and rest my cheek against the crown of his head.
And I hold him the only way I can.
CHAPTER 35
PHOENIX
The opera house is three blocks east of the venue and I know it before Raf does because Raf is freaking out too much to pay attention, but at least he's following me without arguing. The bond threads are pulling me toward the opera house like fish hooks buried in my sternum.
I can'tnotknow where Bells is.
Even without a mark binding us, she lives inside my chest.
We hit the building at a dead sprint.
The front doors are locked. Heavy brass handles, ornamental deadbolts. Old-money security that sayswe don't want you here.
I don't slow down.
One side service door up against a charging giant alpha drummer who hasn't skipped a meal since Nash died and has been running on adrenaline and pure fucking rage for the last forty minutes.
The door loses.
Raf is on my heels, his boots crunching over the shattered doorframe as I stumble into the hall.
The smell hits me first.
Blood.
It's everywhere. Smeared on the walls. Pooled on the floor. A trail of it leading deeper into the building like someone painted a path in red.
"Holyfuck," Raf breathes.
I follow the trail.
Not because I want to. Because the bond thread attached to Bells is screaming at me from somewhere below, and the blood trail leads the same direction, and Ihaveto believe those two facts are connected in a way that ends with her alive.
We round a corner.
A guard is crumpled against the baseboard.
If I look, I'm going to puke.
This is the work of a feral alpha, or an alpha who's close.
Rex.
Rex did this.
Which means Rex is alive.
Was alive.
Isalive. Present tense.
I'm committing to present tense.
"Stairs," Raf says, pointing.