Chapter 8: Ivy

Chapter

Eight

IVY

T he iron rods in the Knight's back carve deep gouges into the snow as we drag him out of the tunnels and into the deepening snow beyond the facility. His black blood stains the pristine white like ink. Steam rises from his massive body despite the freezing mountain air biting through my thin hospital gown.

Behind us, another section of the facility caves in with a thunderous crash. The destruction chases us into the courtyard, concrete and steel groaning as the building tears itself apart.

"Transport!" Whiskey bellows over the chaos. "Big enough for all of us!"

He sprints toward a massive military vehicle, its engine still idling. The rest of the pack fans out, providing cover as guards open fire from the remaining sections of the facility. Bullets kick up sprays of snow around us.

Wraith and Thane heave on the chains, dragging the Knight's bleeding form toward the transport. His iron mask scrapes against the frozen ground, blue eye-slits flickering weakly. A hollow growl echoes from behind the metal as they manhandle him into the cargo area.

I stay close, one hand pressed against his mechanical arm as it sparks and twitches, but he remains docile under my touch. Plague appears with an armful of stolen medical supplies, already assessing the Knight's wounds with clinical efficiency.

"Keep him calm," he orders, not looking up as he cuts away torn flesh around where we ripped out the iron rods. "I need to stop this bleeding."

A rifle cracks from somewhere above. One of the guards drops, a neat hole appearing between his eyes. Valek perches in the back of the transport like a drunk gargoyle, picking off targets with terrifying accuracy despite still being high as a kite.

"Ivy," he slurs, reloading with fluid grace. "Your hair looks like blood in the snow. So pretty."

"Focus on shooting, asshole," I snap back.

He giggles and drops another guard.

Whiskey slams the transport into gear, engine roaring. "Hold onto something!"

We lurch forward as he rams through a security barrier. Guards dive out of the way as we crash through the gate. Bullets ping off the armored sides. The transport fishtails on the icy mountain road, but we make it. Behind us, engines snarl to life as pursuit vehicles give chase.

Wraith's massive body curls around me, absorbing any hits that might strike me. His blood mingles with the Knight's on the floor of the transport. I want to tell him to protect himself, but I know it's useless. He'll die before he lets anything happen to me.

The thought sends ice through my veins.

The facility continues to implode behind us, great chunks of concrete and steel raining down. The pursuing vehicles have to swerve to avoid the debris. Two crash into each other trying to dodge a falling section of wall.

"We've got a problem!" Whiskey shouts from the driver's seat. "These fucks barely put any damn gas in the tank!"

"The border's still twenty miles out," Plague calls back. He's working tirelessly on the Knight's wounds, face set in grim concentration. "We're leaving too obvious a trail. They'll have reinforcements waiting."

"Then we make our own border crossing," Thane says. He gestures toward a narrow logging road branching off into dense forest. "That way. It's rougher terrain, but they won't expect it."

Whiskey cranks the wheel hard. The transport's tires skid on the ice before finding purchase. We bounce and jolt down the unpaved track, branches scraping against the sides. The Knight growls as each impact jars him, but at least it's keeping him awake.

The pursuing engines fade behind us as the forest swallows us whole. We've escaped immediate danger, but I know this isn't over.

Not by a long shot.

The transport lurches and bucks as Whiskey drives us up onto the railroad tracks, the whole vehicle shuddering and threatening to shake apart. I cling to Wraith's massive arm, trying to keep my balance as we hurtle through the night. The Knight's hollow breathing fills the cargo area, his mask's blue glow flickering weaker.

"Hold on!" Whiskey bellows from the driver's seat. The transport hits a rough section of track and nearly goes airborne. My stomach drops as we crash back down, the impact jarring every bone in my body.

"We need to get off these tracks," Plague snaps, not looking up from where he's working on the Knight's wounds. His hands move with surgical precision despite the constant jolting. "The vibrations are making him bleed out."

Another explosion lights up the night behind us, the shock wave hitting us seconds later. The transport rocks dangerously, metal screaming as Whiskey fights to keep us on the tracks.

"Working on it!" he shouts back. "But we've got company!"

I twist around to look through the rear window. Two military vehicles are still on our tail, their headlights cutting through the swirling snow. As I watch, one of them opens fire. Bullets ping off the transport's armored hull like deadly hail.

"Incoming!" I warn, ducking as a round punches through the back window. Glass sprays across the cargo area.

Valek's laughter rings out as he lines up another shot. His rifle cracks and one of the pursuing vehicles swerves violently, its front tire blown out. It careens into a snowbank and vanishes into the darkness.

"Beautiful," he slurs, swaying as he reloads.

The transport hits another bump and Plague curses as his needle slips. The Knight's mechanical arm sparks and twitches, throwing off showers of blue-white light. "I said hold steady!"

"You wanna drive, asshole?" Whiskey snarls. "Be my guest!"

"They're bombing their own fucking railroad," Thane growls, bracing himself against the wall. "Must really want us dead if they can't catch us."

The last pursuing vehicle is gaining on us. The driver's face is clear now, lit by the dashboard lights. His expression is a mask of hate as he raises what looks like a rocket launcher.

"Get down!" I scream.

The missile streaks past us, so close I feel its heat. It strikes the tracks ahead with a thunderous explosion. Metal twists and buckles, rails torn apart by the blast.

" Fuck !" Whiskey yanks the wheel hard. The transport slides sideways, sparks flying as we grind against the ruined tracks. My head cracks against the wall and stars explode behind my eyes.

Then we're airborne.

Time slows to a crawl. I float weightless for a heartbeat, snow and stars wheeling overhead through the shattered windows. Wraith's and Thane's arms wrap around me simultaneously, shielding me.

We hit the ground with bone-crushing force.

The world dissolves into chaos. Metal screams. Glass shatters. Bodies tumble. Something hot and wet sprays across my face. Blood, but I don't know whose.

When the transport finally stops moving, I find myself sprawled across Thane and Wraith. They took the brunt of the impact, shielding me with their massive frames. Their arms are still locked around me, holding me safe against them.

"Everyone alive?" Thane's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears.

A chorus of groans answers him. I lift my head, trying to take stock of our situation. We're upright, thankfully, though the transport lists heavily to one side. Snow drifts in through the broken windows, already dusting the twisted metal and scattered medical supplies.

"And so is my newest patient," Plague reports dryly. "For now."

"How far to the Chateau?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

"Not sure." Whiskey crawls out of the mangled driver's seat, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. "Engine's fucked though."

"And our friends?" Thane asks flatly.

A final explosion lights up the night behind us. The pursuing vehicle must have hit the same damaged section of track. The fireball rises into the sky like an artificial sun, painting the snow crimson.

"That answers that question," Valek says cheerfully. He's somehow still perched in his sniper's nest, though his rifle is bent beyond repair.

I try to stand but my legs won't cooperate. Wraith rises instead, lifting me with him. His huge hands check me for injuries with impossible gentleness, those bright blue eyes full of concern. He usually keeps his face turned so I can't see him clearly without his mask, but apparently not when he's worried about me.

"I'm okay," I assure him, giving him a light kiss on the nose. "Just bruised."

He blinks at me and doesn't look convinced, but there's no time to argue. We need to move before reinforcements arrive. I can already hear the distant thrum of helicopter rotors.

"We walk," Thane decides. "Stick to the trees, avoid the roads. They'll be watching for vehicles."

No one argues. We've come too far to give up now. The Knight's hollow breathing has steadied somewhat under Plague's care. He'll make it, if we can get him somewhere safe.

As Wraith helps me out of the ruined transport, I catch one last glimpse of the facility through a gap in the trees. It burns against the snowy night sky, a pyre of concrete and steel. Whatever secrets it held are ash now, mingling with the falling flakes.

But we made it out.

All of us.

Thane scoops me up without warning, his huge hands gentle but firm. "Up you go. Can't have our omega catching her death out here," he says gruffly, but I catch the slight softening in his voice.

He helps me climb onto his broad back, my bare feet warming as they leave the freezing snow. The heat radiating from his skin seeps through my damp hospital gown as I wrap my arms around his neck.

"Thank you," I murmur, pressing my cold cheek against his shoulder. His gunpowder and pine scent warms me up, too. And for once, it doesn't bother me that my body responds to him like this.

Whiskey comes up behind us and drapes his shirt around my shoulders. It hangs off me like a dress and I shiver as I thread my arms through the sleeves.

Much better.

"You want my socks?" he asks.

"No, thanks," I say dryly.

His brow furrows as he stares at my bare feet. "You sure?"

"Very."

He picks up one of the Knight's chains and gestures to Plague and Valek to help him as we move through the silent forest in loose formation. Wraith prowls ahead, his massive frame flowing between the trees with predatory grace. His sharp teeth flash silver in the moonlight when he glances back to check on me, still keeping his face turned away as much as he can.

I give him a little smile and he quickly averts his gaze.

But we have plenty of time to work on that when we get back to the Chateau.

Behind us, Valek, Whiskey, and Plague haul the Knight's unconscious form through the deepening snow, chains creaking with each step. His black blood leaves a stark trail the falling snow is barely covering, but there's no time to stop. Not with the sound of helicopters still echoing in the distance.

"How much further to the border?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

"Ten clicks, give or take," Thane replies. "But we're not taking a direct route. Too risky."

I nod against his shoulder, watching Wraith disappear into the shadows ahead only to materialize again a few moments later. His movements are so fluid, so precise. Like a apex predator in his element. A wolf of a man.

He glances at me again and I give him another smile.

He just gives me a soft growl in return.

Fat snowflakes swirl past my face, stinging my cheeks with their icy touch. The wind picks up, howling through the trees and whipping my damp hospital gown and Whiskey's shirt around my legs. I press closer to Thane's warmth, burying my face in his neck.

"The girl's cold," Whiskey says from behind me. "We gotta stop."

I wasn't going to be the one to ask, but I'm grateful. It's cold as hell and getting worse, even by my standards and even though I'm leeching all Thane's warmth.

Thane's hands tighten on my thighs. "Agreed. Wraith!"

My scarred alpha materializes from the shadows ahead, his blue eyes glowing in the darkness. He signs to Thane and me, gesturing toward a rocky outcropping barely visible through the thickening snow.

"Cave?" I ask, squinting through the white curtain.

Wraith nods, already moving to scout it out. His massive frame vanishes into the swirling snow.

"Think it's safe?" Whiskey calls from behind us, his voice nearly lost in the rising wind.

"Safer than freezing to death out here," Plague replies.

The chains creak and rattle as they drag the Knight's unconscious form through the deepening drifts. His mechanical arm throws off occasional sparks, the blue glow of his mask's eye-slits flickering.

Wraith reappears, signing that the cave is clear. Deep enough to shelter us all, with a narrow entrance we can defend if anyone is suicidal enough to come after us in the storm.

Perfect.

We file in one by one, squeezing through the tight opening. The cave opens up inside, the ceiling too low for any of the alphas to stand to their full heights, let alone Wraith and the Knight. At least we're out of the wind.

"Set him down here," Plague orders, directing the others to lay the Knight against the back wall. "Carefully. Those stitches are barely holding."

At least I think he's warm enough. The heat emanating from his body is practically a bonfire. But I'm still freezing.

I slide off Thane's back, my bare feet stinging as they touch the cold stone. Wraith's there instantly, scooping me up before I can protest. He carries me to a relatively dry spot and gently lowers me to the ground.

"Here," Plague says, pulling off his lab coat and shirt, revealing the lean muscle beneath. "Put this on before you freeze to death."

"I'm fine—" I start to protest, but Whiskey cuts me off.

"Let us keep you warm. You're our omega."

Thane wordlessly adds his shirt to the pile forming in my lap. Even Valek, still swaying slightly, manages to wrestle out of his blood-stained "patient" shirt.

"What about you guys?" I ask, clutching the bundle of warm fabric.

Whiskey barks out a laugh. "We run hot, remember? Alpha metabolism and all that shit. Now put the damn clothes on."

I give in, layering their shirts over my thin gown. Each one carries its owner's unique scent. The combination wraps around me like an invisible blanket.

Wraith growls in frustration and signs that he's sorry, and it takes me a moment to realize it's because he isn't wearing a shirt.

"You could cuddle with me and keep me warm," I offer him.

He stares at me like I'm crazy.

Yeah. Lots of work to be done here.

But then he shifts closer and hesitantly wraps his strong arms around me, enveloping me in his warmth and familiar rainy scent. I snuggle against his chest, resting my forehead in the crook of his scarred neck, and he carefully squeezes me a little tighter like he might snap me in half if he's too rough.

Actually, he probably could.

"Better?" Plague asks, his clinical expression slipping to reveal genuine concern.

I nod, but my teeth are still chattering. The alphas exchange glances, some silent communication passing between them.

"Fuck it," Whiskey declares. He drops down beside me, radiating heat like a furnace. "C'mere, wildcat."

Before I can respond, he tugs me partially into his lap so he's sharing me with Wraith. I should protest—the old me would have fought tooth and nail against such familiarity—but his warmth is too tempting. I let myself sink back against his broad chest as Wraith lets out a low growl.

"Don't," Whiskey warns him.

More growling.

"Room for one more?" Plague asks with uncharacteristic hesitation.

"Get over here, Doc." Whiskey grabs his wrist, pulling him down with us. "You're shit at staying warm anyway."

"I regulate my body temperature just fine," Plague mutters, but he settles in on my other side.

Thane joins us without a word, his solid presence bracketing me from behind. Even Valek crawls over, still muttering like a lunatic as he curls up at my feet like some deranged cat and wraps himself around my lower body.

Maybe more like a snake than a cat.

I really should kick him in the fucking head, but I restrain myself.

For now.

Then I feel the absence of a familiar warmth and look up to find Wraith has retreated into the shadows again. His blue eyes gleam in the darkness as he watches us, shoulders hunched. Clearly sinking right back into the pit of self-loathing that always threatens to swallow him up at any point.

"Wraith," I call softly. "Please?"

He shakes his head and signs to me.

Not needed. Safer without.

"Bullshit," Whiskey says before I can respond. "Get your ass over here, bro. You're making me nervous hovering like that."

"He's right," Plague adds. "Body heat is most effective in close proximity."

Wraith's eyes dart between us, uncertainty written in every line of his massive frame. I hold out my hand to him.

"I want you here," I say simply. "With us. With me."

For a long moment, he doesn't move. Then, slowly, he inches closer. When he sinks back down beside us, I immediately reach for him, pulling him into our pile.

He goes rigid at first, but I guide his head to rest in my lap. My fingers card through his damp hair, working out tangles with gentle strokes. Gradually, the tension bleeds from his muscles as he wraps his huge arms around my upper body.

"There," I murmur. "That's better."

"Speaking of better," Whiskey says, his chest rumbling against my back as he speaks. "Doc, you gonna do something about my nose or what?"

"Your nose is the least of your problems," Plague retorts, but his hands are already moving, prodding the swollen bridge with clinical precision.

"Ow! Fuck!" Whiskey yelps. "You're doing that on purpose!"

"Standard medical procedure," Plague says dryly. "You should be used to it by now."

"Standard my ass. You just like hurting me."

"If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't waste my time with your nose."

"And what the fuck does that mean, Doc?"

Their bickering washes over me, strangely soothing in its infuriating familiarity. Thane's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm against my shoulder. Valek has finally stopped muttering, his breathing evening out. Wraith nuzzles closer, his sharp teeth carefully turned away from my skin.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel... completely safe.

The realization should terrify me. These are alphas. Alphas I just chose for reasons that are beyond my understanding right now, but they're still alphas.

But as I sit here, surrounded by their warmth and strength, all I feel is peace. The most peace I've ever felt in my life.

A low, deep rumble builds in Wraith's chest as I scratch lightly at his hair. Not quite a purr because of his damaged throat, but close. His massive hand finds mine, engulfing it completely. Such deadly strength, held carefully in check.

For me.

"Rest," Thane murmurs in my ear. "We'll keep watch."

I want to argue that I'm not tired, but exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. My eyes grow heavy as Whiskey and Plague's gentle bitching fades into background noise.

My alphas.

My pack.

My home.