Chapter 60

Thorne’s POV

“As you can see, border patrols need to be increased. If each pack will add five more trained warriors to the rotation, I believe we will be able to avoid the problems a few of you have been having with rogues,” I announce, looking at the few men in the room and the few on the video call who couldn’t make it in person.

“Will you be creating the schedule again or are you delegating that task?” Alpha Sanders asks.

My pocket buzzes, but I ignore the call and let it go to voicemail.

“Would anyone else like to take on the task?” I ask, looking out at the men. “I’m glad to do it unless someone else would like to step up.”

My phone stops buzzing, and a moment later, it begins buzzing again. While the other Alphas discuss who will create the schedule, I pull my phone out to find Aurora’s name and picture fill the screen.

I’d told her she could leave since I didn’t need her for this meeting, and she knew it was an important meeting, so she would only call if it were an emergency.

Honestly, she doesn’t usually call me, either, so I lift my phone and announce, “I have to take this. Excuse me.”

The men all accept my words and continue talking while I slip out and answer the phone.

“Aur—”

A scream blasts into my ear, nearly making me drop the phone. It’s followed by the slam of a door and sobs.

“Aurora! What’s happening?”

I’m moving toward the exit before I can think. A loud thud and a dangerous growl come through the phone next, even louder than Aurora’s cries.

“Can you hear me? What’s happening? Are you okay?”

People turn to look at me as I run through the building. I tug at the tie around my neck to get more oxygen in me, but it doesn’t help.

“Aurora, answer me!” I shout, bursting through the front doors and running out into the parking lot. More cries and thuds filter through the phone, setting me more and more on edge. My wolf pushes against my mind, wanting to come out.

“There’s trouble at the house,” I tell Jace through our link.

“What? I just dropped her off and there was nothing wrong.”

“Then go back and see what’s happening,” I growl. “I’m on my way.”

My wolf pushes harder against the barrier between us, and I agree that he’ll be able to reach her faster than I will. So, I start running toward the forest, needing to avoid traffic and shouting into my phone, “I’m coming, Aurora!” before shifting and taking off toward the vacation home.

With a hammering heart and worry filling me, I run. Images of Aurora falling off that balcony or of someone attacking her flash through my mind, urging me to move faster. If someone has hurt her, they’ll wish they’d never set eyes on her when I catch them.

I jump over a fallen tree and dodge other animals as I run, and soon, I’m running down the street of the vacation house.

The moment I’m in the driveway, I smell the sharp, metallic scent of blood. Instantly, I know it’s Aurora’s blood, and it sends me into a panic.

“Get to her!” My wolf howls, then falters when we both notice blood on the grass and on the steps to the house. Aurora’s purse and its contents are also scattered in the grass, like she’d dropped or thrown them at someone. Jace pounds on the front door, calling out to Aurora with no response.

I can hear her cries from within.

Shifting mid-run, I pound up the steps, scan the area, and turn to Jace.

“Anything?”

He shakes his head and moves back, “No one was here when I got back, and she’d already locked herself inside. The blood—”

“I know.”

Aurora’s sobs on the other side of the door tear at my heart as I call out to her, “Aurora! I’m here. Open the do—”

Before I can finish, the door flies open, and she flings herself at me. Her smaller body collides with mind, already sliding toward the floor when I catch her. Blood slides down the back of her leg, and I’m careful not to touch the injury when I curl an arm under her ass and hold her to my chest.

“Who was it?” I growl. She jumps and gasps, so I take deep breaths to calm down. I don’t need her to be afraid of me after she was clearly attacked. Or ever, really.

“Who did this to you?”

Her entire body is shaking, the sobs and the fear manifesting physically. So, I pull her tighter to me, rubbing my hand up and down her back to comfort her.

“Can you tell me who hurt you?” I ask again, softer this time. She shakes her head, and I bite back the growl that threatens to surface.

“I-I don’t know. Two wolves,” Aurora stutters when she finally answers.

“Okay,” I say, but inside, I’m cursing. This shouldn’t have happened. “I should get you to the hospital.”

“N-No,” Aurora gaps, her arms tightening around my neck. When she looks up at me, I clench my jaw. Tears stream down her face, reminding me of just how fragile Aurora is. I don’t know what the hell happened, but she could have died from an attack today.

This is the second time she’s been in danger in the span of a week and a half. First in the Redwater Pack and now in my own pack.

“Jace!” I call out. He’s at my side in minutes, waiting for orders. “Did you catch a scent?”

“No, there was nothing.”

“That’s not possible,” I growl, moving back toward the front door. I keep Aurora against my chest, taking in every scent I can from outside as I step onto the porch. Grass, dirt, blood, sweat, birds, but no scent of any wolves or werewolves. The only other thing in the air is the damp, heavy stench of a scent blocker.

Jace nods, letting me know he caught the scent as well. Whoever did this didn’t want us to know who they are, but it doesn’t give us any clue as to their identity.

Turning to Jace, I give him my orders, “Take a few men and search the area. Investigate any suspicious activity and find out who did this.”

Once Jace leaves, I lift Aurora’s chin and make her look at me, “I need to take you to the hospital.”

Again, she refuses, “No, I don’t want to go there. Can you check it?”

I want to argue and tell her a doctor would be better, but she’s just been attacked, and I don’t want to upset her more. So, I carry her inside, kicking the door closed behind me and making my way to the kitchen where a first aid kit is. I don’t need it, but I bought it when Aurora moved in.

She’s much more fragile than me, and thankfully, I wanted to be prepared.

Aurora still sniffles and cries, her bottom lip trembling along with the rest of her body when I sit her on the counter. “I’ll clean your wound, but if I’m also going to call for a doctor to come check it,” I tell her while grabbing the kit. “If he thinks it’s bad, we’ll go to the hospital.”