Chapter Eighteen

Brock woke early and slipped quietly from bed, letting Jemma sleep. He’d kept her up most of the night, loving her over and over again. He couldn’t get enough of his mate. In between bouts of lovemaking, they’d talked, sharing everything from favorite foods to childhood memories, to their hopes and dreams for the future. It seemed they were both on the same page when it came to children and starting a family. Jemma wanted to wait a few years, giving them more time with just the two of them. Brock agreed completely. He wanted children, but he wasn’t ready to share Jemma yet.

He didn’t bother with shoes, slipping on a pair of sweats then padding out of the room and upstairs before heading for the back door. Night still lingered in the sky as Brock stripped, stretched, then shifted from man to grizzly. He swallowed the growl that wanted to spill from him as he hit the ground on all fours and took off between the trees. He was restless and unsure why. Now that he and Jemma had found their way, he was happier than he’d ever been. He hated that it had taken her being injured for him to stop fighting himself and her and open his eyes.

He made his way to the boundary of Holloway land and followed it, taking in the world around him with the keen senses of his bear. He’d traveled a few miles when the air changed. The stillness had him pausing as he surveyed everything around him. Something was wrong. He jerked on the link with his mate, making sure she was still safely in bed where he’d left her. She wasn’t. She must have sensed him leave and followed. She’d also shifted. He could feel her joy at having her bear fully back. She was moving through the woods, heading toward him and whatever danger lay before him.

Careful! He warned her through the bond they shared. Don’t come any closer. Something’s off. Stay alert. I’m heading toward you.

I’m not that far from you. Someone’s out there, Brock.

He caught sight of the big brown bear in his peripheral and moved toward her. Jemma’s bear wasn’t as big as his grizzly, but she was still a force to be reckoned with. Despite her inability to shift while she’d been hidden, she was comfortable in her bear form.

Let me reach out to my brothers.

Jemma nodded as she moved to his side, rubbing her fur against his, her nose scenting the air as she gazed around them. Brock tugged on the link he shared with his brothers, managing to connect with all of them except Matheus. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find his younger brother. He ignored Laramie’s order to hold until one of them could join him and Jemma, letting his brother know where he was headed instead. He needed to find Matheus. Brock knew where his younger brother had been last night.

He nudged Jemma. Follow me. East. We need to find Matheus.

She nodded, staying on his tail as they made their way toward the cabin where Matheus had helped Milo watch Caleb Oaks. The scent of blood grew stronger the closer they got. Brock didn’t contain the roar that filled his throat. He let every bear nearby feel the force of his anger. If anything had happened to his brother…

They finally broke through the trees, and another roar filled his chest as he took in the wide-open door. He stood on two legs as he climbed onto the porch, shifting back to human as he hit the door and stepped inside.

“Fuck!” he yelled as he took in the destroyed room around him.

He found Milo as Jemma joined him. She immediately darted around him, making a beeline for Milo while Brock searched the room for his brother.

“He’s alive,” Jemma shouted. “Milo! Milo! Wake up!”

Brock found Matheus in the hallway that led to the room where Caleb had been locked in. Brock fell to his knees as he assessed his brother. Matheus’ pulse was thready but present.

“Matheus!” Brock shook him, lightly slapping his face, but Matheus didn’t move, his eyes firmly shut. At least, he was alive, and the scent of blood wasn’t coming from him. It was coming from the back bedroom here Caleb should be.

“I think Milo may have been drugged,” Jemma said as she joined him, dropping beside him to take a closer look at Matheus. “Needle mark.” She pointed out a spot on Matheus’ neck. “I don’t know what they were given. We need to get Jensen here or get them to him.” She glanced around before locking her gaze on the door Brock stared at. “Blood.”

“My brothers are on the way,” Brock said. “Stay with Matheus.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Stay on my ass,” he ordered and stood, moving toward the door and the rich scent of copper that saturated the air. Jemma’s palm pressed against his back, letting him know she was with him.

He toed open the door and took in the carnage before him. The room had been ripped apart. It looked as if someone had shifted and taken claws to the walls and furniture. Only problem was, when they’d placed Caleb in the cabin, Jensen had given him something to suppress his ability to shift. It was a short-term drug that was easy to flush from a shifter’s system with no side effects. The recipient was still able to feel his animal side but couldn’t shift.

“Brock.” Jemma pointed toward the back corner where Caleb sat against the wall. Someone had taken a swipe at his chest, ripping cloth, skin, and muscle. His arm hung at an odd angle, and one of his thighs was flayed to the bone. He sat in a pool of blood. As they stared, he blinked open his eyes. They dropped shut just as quickly, but Caleb kept working to get them back open.

“Shh,” Jemma urged as she moved around Brock and crossed to Caleb. “Brock, we need help now.”

Caleb’s lips moved, but Brock had no idea what he tried to say. Jemma leaned in close while he glanced around for something they could use to stem the blood flow. Seeing the pool Caleb sat in, Brock didn’t think the man could afford to lose much more.

“Save your breath,” Jemma urged. “Jensen will be here soon. Hang on.”

“See if you can stop the bleeding on his chest.” Brock tossed her pieces of the bedding that littered the floor then grabbed more and joined her.

“Get his thigh. The wounds are deeper there. Caleb, stay with me,” she pressed the other male. “What’s he trying to say?” She glanced at Brock to see if he could understand.

Brock leaned in, catching a few words.

“…father…kill…Walker…didn’t know…Roco…” Anguish shown bright in Caleb’s face.

“Whose father? Yours?”

Caleb managed a nod before forcing another word from his lips. “Walker.”

“Titus Walker?” Brock asked. “He didn’t have anything to do with the attacks.”

Caleb blinked several times, and Brock noted the frustration in his gaze. “Walker.”

“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked.

Caleb’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Finally, he managed another word. “Kill.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Brock growled, hating that he couldn’t figure out what Caleb tried to tell him. “You said Roco. Didn’t know then Roco. What didn’t you know?”

“Dead.” A tear dripped down Caleb’s face, anguish shining in his eyes. “Kill.”

“Someone killed Roco?” It was what they had all feared. Brock needed to know how Caleb knew that.

“Who attacked you?” he asked as more tears fell down Caleb’s cheeks.

“Father…weak…disappoint…”

Brock shook his head. “Your father is weak? You’re disappointed.”

Caleb shook his head then gasped, his eyelids dropping over his eyes and staying there.

“Your father attacked you?” Jemma whispered, horror filling her voice.

Caleb’s lids flicked back up.

“Shit,” Brock muttered.

“He’s the one who told you to attack Titus Walker,” Jemma continued.

Caleb didn’t nod, but Brock could tell his mate had the truth of it.

“He told you Titus killed Roco,” Brock guessed, and Caleb managed to give another nod before closing his eyes again.

“Caleb, you’re not weak. You’re strong. So strong. We need you to be strong a little longer. Help is coming. Don’t you dare let that bastard win,” Jemma ordered.

Caleb blinked but couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open.

“Wait. What about Walker? Is your father going after Walker?” Brock asked and though his eyes remained closed, Caleb nodded.

“Which one?” Brock asked. “Caleb, which one? Titus or Lawrence? Who is your father going after?”

“Brock!” Slade yelled from the front.

“Back here,” he called back, rising and running to meet his brother. Slade dropped by Matheus as soon as he saw him in the hall.

“Jensen!” Slade yelled. “Matheus is down.”

“Fuck!” Jensen jogged toward them, visually assessing Brock before kneeling by Matheus.

“Jemma thinks they were both drugged. Needle marks on the neck.”

“I caught that,” Jensen agreed.

“Jensen, back here,” Jemma called.

Jensen’s gaze moved back to Brock.

“Caleb’s down. He’s bleeding badly,” Brock told him.

Jensen stood. “They’re unconscious but otherwise seem okay. I need to figure out what they were given before I can do anything to combat it. We need to get them to my clinic. Now.” He moved to where Jemma waited with Caleb. “Shit. Hold on. Who did this?”

“His father,” Jemma said, and Brock saw Jensen jerk with surprise. “Did you bring something to flush out the drugs so he can shift?”

“No. I need to stabilize him first anyway. His injuries are too severe. A shift at this point could kill him. As his biology shifts, the wounds will, as well, maybe shredding wider or deeper. There’s no telling. We need to get let him heal a bit before we do that,” Jensen warned.

“But his bear?” Jemma questioned.

“Is still there, still able to help him heal. Most likely, it already is. He can’t shift. That’s the only thing the drug prevents. I’d never lock a shifter completely away from their animal side,” Jensen vowed, then amended. “Except for Lawrence Walker. I gave him what he gave Xandra.”

“You think his wounds were worse than this?” Brock asked as he joined them.

“Looking at the amount of blood here? Probably,” Jensen confirmed as his hands moved over the wounds. Caleb’s eyes blinked back open. “Your father did this?”

“Yes.”

“You said he’s going after Walker,” Brock reminded. “Which one? Titus or Lawrence?”

“Both,” Caleb managed to answer as multiple roars filled the air. It sounded as if hell was breaking lose outside.

“Go,” Jensen ordered Brock. “See what’s going on.”

Brock glanced toward his mate, meeting her big, blue eyes.

“I need Jemma with me. I can’t check on all three of them by myself.”

“Go,” Jemma urged. “I’ll be with Jensen.”

“Brock!” Slade yelled.

“Stay safe, baby,” he told his mate, leaning in to kiss her.

“You, too,” she ordered as he stood and walked toward the front of the cabin.

Slade had moved Milo, so he lay next to Matheus in the hallway. His older brother was already on the porch, shifting. Brock joined him, letting the shift take him from man to bear again. He followed Slade toward the calls of the den, hearing Laramie’s alpha roar above all the others. It was a command. One both Slade and Brock followed, racing toward Laramie as fast as they could.