Outlaw (Wolves of Royal Paynes #4) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,16

wraiths. Like being hunted by water, they split, flowed, and reformed in whatever way required to stay wherever Dog was. Overwhelmed, Dog made a break for it, racing down the hallway as the wraiths made chase, bouncing off the walls like pinballs, causing just about the amount of damage expected from such an activity. Leaving cracking plaster and broken picture frames in their wake, the chase continued down the hallway.

I ignored everything else and took off after my wraiths. Seeing them fly around the corner made my gut lurch. I was hot all over; sweat gathered rapidly at my forehead and palms.

How long had it been since I'd run unassisted? It was the difference between jumping in water and jumping on dry land. My body moved the same, exerted the same energy, but I felt as if I was walking in slow motion, not running so hard I panted. I wasn't sure how I had my wraiths or what they were, exactly, but they protected me, kept me safe. If I hadn't had my wraiths, I would've been left unprotected every time I slept, or every time Pierce made me sleep.

I didn't control them so much as they seemed to prefer taking care of me. Except now, they were careening down a large set of stairs, bouncing off the wall by the front door and breaking the window in the process. The shattering glass didn't slow them in the slightest, and they rolled forward like the sudden waters of a flash flood. Dog, clearly still bewildered by what was chasing him in the first place, had a one-track mind. He spun around, not seeming to care where he went as long as it was away.

The chaotic group disappeared into a room with a doublewide doorway. More shattering and splintering sounded from within, and I didn't have long to imagine the destruction before I saw it with my own eyes. The room must've been a dining room, perfectly functional and organized. Now, the table lay on its side as well as most of the chairs. Many of those were splintered beyond use. Flowers lay scattered around the floor, along with sharp shards of crystal.

The chase continued through another doorway, where Jazz's high-pitched scream joined the existing crashing sounds.

I wasn't the first through the doorway. At Jazz's scream, Diesel surged forward. I followed on his heels, blinking rapidly as I wiped a white powder that clung in the air off my face, sticking to the tears streaming down my cheeks. I gasped on a sob, licking my lips.

Flour.

4

Diesel

Once I was sure Jazz had only been startled and not harmed, I searched the room for Quinlan. He stood surprisingly close to my side. At this distance I had to look down to see him.

Terror rolled off him in waves, turning his scent bitter. His shoulders bobbed jerkily with his breaths. I knew immediately what was happening. In his early years, Quinlan's panic attacks had been frequent. They'd spread out as he got older and more established in the pack. On the day of the explosion, he'd gone more than a year without one.

Before, I'd hold him, rocking him gently as he matched his breaths with mine. I couldn't do that now. My arms didn't bring him comfort. Though it hadn't been fear that I'd first smelled when I woke up with my mate standing over me. A fleeting emotion expressed only with the intent that I never know, wasn't consent.

Knox barreled in behind me, going straight for his mate.

Dog snarled, snapping at the approaching shadows. The way they moved didn't feel threatening, but Dog didn't seem to care. He snapped at the air, surging forward in an attack that sent a jug of milk on its side.

Quinlan sucked in a short breath and, pressing his lips tightly together, whistled sharply.

The wraiths responded immediately, condensing and slithering toward Quinlan like snakes. They wound around his arms, a living shawl that doubled as protective armor.

Though they rested gently around Quin's shoulders, the man didn't look the least bit soothed. His breaths came more quickly, and the red on his cheeks spread down his neck in nervous splotches.

"What the hell is happening here?" Knox barely restrained his bellow.

Jazz shushed him, gesturing to Quinlan, gasping for air.

Storri rushed to Dog's side and dropped to one knee. "Are you okay?"

Dog must've said he was because Storri worriedly searched the disheveled space. A carton of eggs lay face down on the ground with the lid open. Thick egg white