30. Marcus

Team East rolls in, looking a bit worse for the wear. Sullivan is missing a pant leg, and Kent has a visible gash healing on her cheek. None of them are talking to each other as they enter, and the tension between them is palpable.

Trouble in paradise?

My eyes slide over to where Amira and Deacon are huddled. I'm unsure what it is about her, but despite the fact that she appears to be at least a decade older than me, she reminds me of my little sister.

Proud. Stubborn. Strong. But so small…

Hearing her try to sort this whole thing out made me ashamed of our kind in a way I hadn't felt before.

Fucking animals.

Permanently inking her skin for a game?

Not to mention trapping them for years for who knows what.

If I ever find out who is responsible for these things, I'll kill them myself.

"Grab the clue," Saint orders, his voice traveling to my ears, which pulls my attention back to the platform. Sullivan steps up to their human map and removes the card, not untying her blindfold, gag, or bindings.

Assholes.

Without opening it, he hands it to Kent to read and returns to the ground, pulling out his water as she begins going over the contents out loud.

"Congratulations on finding your item…"

When she finishes, Brad looks confused, and Conner is focused on the woman standing before him on the platform.

"Where is the map? Is it in there?" Sullivan asks once she finishes.

"There's nothing else in the envelope," Kent responds, motioning to Saint to take the letter, but he leaves her arm hanging in the air as he steps past them both, walking up to the woman.

From my vantage point, I see him untie her blindfold, pulling her chin up to look at her face.

"Where's the map?" he demands.

"Beeaarrrk," she chokes out around her gag, causing her to cough into his face. Without pause, Saint backhands her clean across the cheek, causing her to fall face-first into the platform with a strained scream of pain.

Every fiber of my being wants to intervene. My wolf nearly overtakes me, and I have to adjust my weight to allow myself to remain in control.

We. Can't… Amira will see.

I fight with him, knowing he wants exactly what I want, to tear Saint's disrespectful ass to shreds, but also trying to remember the promise I made minutes ago.

Regaining myself, I let out a few shallow breaths.

We can't stay here. If their team finds us, we will be forced to fight, and then the LLC will be forced to kill Amira.

The woman cries on the platform as Saint stares down at her in disgust.

"One more time for me. I think you can do better than that," he says, his silky tone not matching his words, though his body language appears completely calm despite his outburst. He places his hands together behind his back and waits expectantly.

From my position, I can see the profile of his face. The mother fucker is smirking and looks every bit the sadistic bastard Deacon warned me about.

He's enjoying playing with his toy.

Disgusting, evil prick.

"Buh. Ack." she pushes out, deliberately aiming her voice away from him so as to not have a repeat of the previous incident.

"Back?" Sullivan says, "Back where?" He stands up taller, looking over her as if it is just sitting on the floor.

"Muheye. Buh. Ack," she tries again, still not lifting herself from the prone position on the wood.

Understanding lights Saint's face, and he grabs the back of her sweatshirt, pulling her to a standing position. His hand shifts, revealing his wolf"s claws, and my heart stops for a moment before my eyes flip to Amira tucked firmly into Deacon, her eyes shielded from the platform.

His eyes lift to mine, and I send a relieved thank you expression, hoping he knows what I mean. The quick dip of his chin, along with the brief closing of his eyes, tells me he does. When he refocuses on me, he motions that we need to go.

Fuck I wish we had mind-link abilities right about now. This would be so much easier.

I hear the fabric tear and know Saint has sliced the clothing right off her when a gasp escapes Kent's lips.

At least one of them still has part of their soul.

They found their map. We need to go.

Turning to find Finn, I give him the ‘which way' motion only to have him shrug and point back to Amira.

The Map.

Deacon realizes it the same time I do, and he whispers something into her ear so quietly it doesn't travel even with my enhanced hearing. Amira shifts in his hold, turning her back to the platform, and pulls her sweatshirt up to her head.

I trust Deacon. He has proven his ability to read a map, and he knows if we choose the wrong exit, it will cost us dearly. We would run into another team or head back to someone's starting point.

Deacon scans her back, looking up and down several times before pointing to the opening directly to our right.

The clearing has five openings. Four of them sit on what could be argued are the points of the compass, equidistant from each other. The last cuts between the south and east openings, and my gut tells me this is right.

It's closest to us, which makes it the easiest to reach; however, it's also immediately behind the east team, where they stand at the platform. One look behind them. One misstep. One snapping twig and Amira dies.

As I turn back to Finn to see if he is paying attention to Deacon's instructions, a blood-curdling shriek rings out from the platform.

My head whips back in that direction as my body coils to respond. That kind of scream doesn't come from fear. That sound can mean only one thing: pain.

It takes a second for my brain to catch up with what my eyes are witnessing.

On the platform, Saint uses his sharp, clawed hand to carve out the skin containing the map tattoo from the woman's back.

I can't breathe as fury radiates through me, and I begin to shake. Amira's strangled cry is lost among the screaming and crying from the other two women on the platform.

Kill him.

My wolf pushes for control, and I know if I'm not careful, he will win.

Fuck this, I can't just stand here and let him mutilate her; I have to do something.

Assessing the area, I see Sullivan casually waiting for Saint to finish, and Kent looks ready to lose her lunch, her eyes firmly planted on the floor. Neither are paying attention to their surroundings. I step forward, ready to charge Saint and take him out from behind before he has an opportunity to fight back, when a hand grabs the back of my shirt, twisting to pull me back behind my cover.

What the …

My head turns, and I see Finn shaking his head, placing his finger on his free hand to his lips. He then gestures to Deacon, who is now carrying Amira quickly to the opening.

They want to leave them. They want to sneak away rather than take a stand and fight. Every cell in my body is screaming for me to take out Saint. Protect the women. Eliminate the threat.

The screaming dulls to raspy sobs, and I chance a look back at the center.

"Here, Kent, why don't you give this a read? Sullivan, help me with the others," Saint commands, casually tossing the bloody flesh at Veronica, who steps out of its way, allowing it to land on the wood platform with a splat.

"We can't take their maps," Brad says. "Rules are clear."

"I have no intention of taking them. I just plan to… make them unreadable." He shrugs, and as he finishes his statement, he steps behind another woman and slashes his claws clean through both her hoodie and into her back in a single swing. This causes another ear-piercing yell as blood pours out of the shredded skin, completely soaking the fabric scraps around it.

NO!

I almost yell the word, and Finn tightens his grip, forcefully pulling me back this time before whispering quietly, "There's nothing we can do for them now. We have to go before we lose Amira. Even if we defeat them, we lose her. We have to go."

With a final tug, he steps back, slowly moving to follow Deacon to the exit.

Part of me shatters in this moment, knowing that I've failed. I'm walking away from innocent people instead of fighting for them. My moral compass begs for justice even as logic tells me that the only one I can save right now is Amira.

I promised her I would save them all.

Guilt wells in my chest as my feet make the decision my heart can't, and begin quietly following Finn. Resolve builds, and I make it my mission to make Saint feel every second of pain he caused them. He will not get away with this.

As I reach the opening, I take a final moment to remember exactly how this feels. The crying still permeates the air as the women lay bleeding onto the wood. I memorize the sound before turning and walking away.