"Cassie," she cried out, staring around desperately. "Where's Cassie?"
"Dash and Jonas's Enforcers have her," he yelled back as another explosion shook the ground and ripped through the alpha's home. "Move. Let's go."
He all but dragged her from the force of Breeds running through the flame-shrouded night, arming themselves, rushing Wolfe and Hope, Dash and his wife and daughter, and the wives of the other Breeds that had attended.
The Feline Breeds' alpha was holding a baby, her teenage son at her side, snarling in rage as Enforcers moved to get them out of the line of fire.
"Get them out of the f**king courtyard," Styx screamed at the group. "This way."
Turning, Styx led the way through the dense foliage at the center of the courtyard as gun and laser fire began to erupt behind them.
"Haven's under attack. We're under attack!" Storme heard Enforcers behind them yelling while overhead the sound of a distinctive hum could be heard.
"Get them the f**k out of here. Move. Move!"
They were rushing between two cabins, shadows enfolding them as Styx raced to get out of the clearing.
As they cleared the cabins, it was as though hell opened up around them. Heavy machine gun fire powered by overhead helicopters began ripping along the ground.
A baby wailed. The sound of a frightened, pained scream could be heard. And before Storme could make sense of any of it, another explosion rocked the night, throwing debris, flames and destruction around them.
"Bitch!" Storme found herself being jerked from the ground by her hair, agony screaming through her head as she fought, clawed at the fingers tangled in the thick strands to drag her to her feet. "You should be f**king dead."
Fighting to lock her knees in place, she tried to remain on her feet, only to stumble as she was jerked again, an agonizing cry leaving her lips as the searing pain tore through her head once more.
Where was Styx?
She tried to gaze around, but the group that had been together when the final explosion rocked the night was nowhere to be seen now.
He wouldn't leave her alone, she told herself. He wouldn't have taken the others and left her to protect herself. She knew he wouldn't.
Tears filled her eyes as that horrible premonition struck her chest again. Her breathing hitched; she gasped for air and then lost the ability to breathe at the sight of his hard, broad form sprawled out on the ground several feet from her.
"Styx!" She screamed his name as the harsh fingers jerked her around, shook her, then a hard, heavy fist slammed into her face, turning the world black.
CHAPTER 17
"Well, it looks like the little bitch is finally awake."
Storme stared back at the faces watching her, and wondered why she should even bother with shock or surprise at this point.
Or betrayal.
Still, it was betrayal she felt as she stared back at the other woman, the one person in the world that she had once believed to be a friend.
Fear was a terrible, destructive sense. It was a panic attack in the darkest hours of the night. It was smothering, feeling the breath leave the body, unable to catch it back quickly at the sight of the monsters facing her.
The monsters that were human as well as Breed.
These were the eyes watching her through the darkness of her nightmares. Eyes that might not have glowed red in the low light, but they might as well have. She could still feel the danger, the merciless intent. She could still feel and remember the death that came with them, as well as the recrimination and the consequences that would come when Styx caught up with her. If he caught up with her.
If he was even out there. How could he be though? Marx and Gena had taken her from Haven so easily. She remembered bits and pieces. Being thrown over Marx's shoulder and toted through the night like a sack of potatoes while it seemed that Haven was burning down behind her.
They'd thrown her in the trunk of a car, where she'd blacked out again, and when she awoke, she was in the home she had known before her mother's death, years before her father had taken her to the Andes.
A home she had believed no one else could have known about. Evidently, they had known though. She shifted painfully in the thickly cushioned chair they had dumped her in, lifted her hand to her head and, as she brought her fingers down, stared at the blood that seeped at her temple.
That was why she felt so dizzy and sick to her stomach.