CHA-4

"Look, man, I'm already past the entry point. I’ll be on the server the second I finish this check-in with Isabella."

"Change of plans," I growled into the receiver. "I’m neck-deep in a crisis. How many of the pack can you pull together? Brandon Cole has his scouts flanking Magnolia Hall, and I’ve got to get Isabella and myself out without being scented."

I didn't mention exactly which high-ranking wolf was currently shivering against my chest. I wasn't ready to handle the fallout of that particular reveal.

"Think the guys are up for a little distraction-and-extract mission?"

"Brother." Jax’s confused huff rattled my eardrum. "What the hell is going down?"

"Full brief later. Right now, I just need a clean scent-trail from Room 212 to my truck in the rear lot. Treat it like a live territory skirmish. You in or not?"

"Always. I’m with you. Give me ten to mobilize the unit. I’ll howl the game plan via text."

"Appreciate it. I’m in your debt."

Jax let out a low whistle. "This better be a story for the history books, Navarro. That's all I'm saying."

"It’s something," I muttered. "And keep it quiet. I don't want the rivals knowing you're specifically helping me."

"Copy that," he answered. "Damn, this black-ops shit is actually kind of a rush."

I rolled my eyes. "You’re a geek, Jax." I smiled anyway; it was his best trait.

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too, asshole. Out in a minute."

I ended the call and pressed the cold glass of the phone to my brow. Jax was solid. He was the best defensive enforcer on the ice and in the woods. But he might not be so thrilled when he realized we were helping a wolf from the Castillo bloodline.

The Coastal pack was divided: the forwards versus the defensive lines. We shared the ice, but we didn't share meat. My defensive brothers would leap at a chance to harass the offensive line, but assisting an alpha-heir they thought belonged to the enemy? That was a gamble. I’d have to beg for forgiveness later.

"Luke?" Isabella whispered, snapping me back to the dorm room.

"Grab a bag. Enough for tomorrow's training and whatever you need," I told her. "You’re staying at my place tonight."

Her eyes went wide. "What? Why?"

"Brandon isn't done. He’ll be back for him, and I’m not leaving you here to deal with a desperate Alpha while he's in this state. Look at what he did to Cass—and he’s supposed to be his mate, right?"

We both looked at Cass. He remained limp in my arms, a hollow shell. If he was hearing us, he gave no sign.

Isabella nodded slowly, fear etched into her face. "Right. Okay." She started shoving gear into a bag.

When she reached for a third satchel, I huffed. "Only what you can carry in one move. We aren't doing two trips."

"I need my tech," she snapped, slinging a strap over her shoulder before grabbing her overnight kit and her research bag. She shot me a look that said she’d carry the whole room if she had to.

I let out an amused snort. "Always have to prove me wrong, don't you?"

She shrugged, a small, proud smirk breaking through her worry. "Stop being wrong and I won't have to."

I opened my mouth for a retort, but my phone buzzed. Jax. "What's the play?" I asked, answering immediately.

"We’re rolling in now."

"Impressive." I raised my eyebrows. Jax lived for the tactical side of pack life. "That was fast."

"Yeah, well..." He sounded annoyed. "We would've been there five minutes ago, but Bear had to put on his war paint and ritual gear like a damn drama queen."

In the background, I heard Brandon “Bear” Coleman telling Jax where he could shove his war paint.

Jax’s voice returned. "Give us two minutes to set the perimeter. When it’s clear for extraction, someone will give the tactical rhythm knock on your door."

"The what?" I asked.

"You know," Jax prompted. Then he hummed a specific, staccato beat. Dah-di-di-dah-di. Di-dit.

I shook my head. "Only you would know the military name for a rhythmic knock."

"Shut up," he growled. Someone spoke to him in the background. "Gotta go. Mendoza, out."

The line went dead. My heart hammered. This was it. I shifted to secure my phone and looked at Isabella. "Move time."

She was already laced up, three bags hanging off her frame. She raised an eyebrow, mocking my slow start. I ignored her and looked down at the wolf in my lap.

"Hey," I said, my voice dropping to a low rumble. "We’re moving you out of here. Can you stand?"

No answer. I looked at Isabella. She just shrugged.

"Fine," I decided. "I’m carrying you." He couldn't be more than a hundred and eighty pounds of lean muscle. I could manage. But first, I had to get us off the mattress.

My body stirred as I mapped out where I’d have to touch him to get a proper grip. This attraction was a nightmare.

Just move, Navarro, the logic in my head barked.

When that knock came, we had to be a ghost. No hesitation. I wouldn't let him be exposed for a second longer. I’d take a silver bullet before I let Brandon lay a claw on him. If I had to endure the awkwardness of a stray hand placement to get him safe, so be it.

I took a breath and moved. I slid one arm under his thighs—those powerful, skater’s thighs—and the other around his back. My arm brushed against the solid muscle of his chest as I pulled him toward me.

I tried to keep it professional, but the heat radiating off him was overwhelming. He moved like water, trusting me completely to shield him. It stirred something primal in my gut—the protector, the Alpha-born instinct. I liked that he let me hold him. I liked how our bodies fit together.

By the time I was standing with him in my lap, his arms hooked around my neck, I was dealing with a very noticeable physical reaction. It was mortifying.

I froze, terrified he’d feel it and think I was some kind of predator, but Cass didn't move. He wasn't even there. He was lost in the fog of his own mind.

Rage spiked in my blood. What kind of psychological hell had Cole put him through to break a warrior like this? I wished I’d shattered Brandon's jaw when I had the chance.

A knock hit the door: slow, fast, fast, slow, fast, pause, then two final beats.

Isabella jumped, but Cass didn't even flinch. I tightened my grip on him.

"That's our signal," I said, preparing to stand. I gave him one last chance. "You sure you can't walk, Cass?"

I started to shift my arm from under his knees, but he suddenly tightened his hold on my neck. He buried his face into the crook of my shoulder and pulled his knees up toward his chest. He wasn't letting go.

"Okay," I whispered. "I've got you. I won't let go."

I stood up, and he nearly choked me with the strength of his grip. The weight made me grit my teeth, but I nodded to Isabella. She hurried to the door and pulled it open.

Bear’s massive frame blocked the light. Isabella recoiled, but the giant wolf just gave her a respectful dip of his head. "Little Nav."

She relaxed immediately. Bear stepped aside to let her pass, then turned to me. His jaw dropped.

"Brother," he said, blinking at Cass. Then his face darkened. "Wait. Isn't that the Castillo kid? The rival heir?"

"Move," I answered, side-stepping to fit us through the frame. "No time for a history lesson."

"Uh..." Bear shook himself awake. "Right. This way. Adrian Roark has the scouts distracted in the stairwell—started a loud-ass argument about the next game."

Isabella and I followed him down the hall. We could hear the echoes of two wolves shouting about stats and strategy, masking our movement.

Bear signaled 'clear' and we slipped into the stairwell.

"Hey." Isabella poked my back. "Let me go first. In case you stumble, I can brace him."

"I’m not going to stumble. Back off," I hissed, though I moved toward the rail to let her pass. The last thing I needed was to be the guy who dropped the most famous wolf in the region down a flight of concrete steps.

Isabella took the lead, scouting ahead. Cass clung to me like I was the only thing keeping him from the abyss.

At the base of the stairs, Jose Rivera was holding the exit. "Nav," he greeted, chin up. "Path is clear. Jax has a scent-blocker trail running straight to your—" He stopped mid-sentence as I emerged.

"Why do you have a Castillo in your arms?"

I gave him a look that promised death if he kept talking. But Jose's eyes drifted to Cass’s face. "Holy hell. What did they do to him?"

The exterior door swung open. Jax stepped in, glaring. "Did I hear someone say Castillo?" He looked down at Cass, his expression a mix of shock and fury. "Nav..."

"He looks like he’s in a trance." Jose backed away slightly. "Did you put a spell on him or something?"

"Yeah, I’m a warlock now," I snapped, my temper fraying. "Are you serious? You think I’d do this?"

"We know you wouldn't," Bear said, coming down behind us. "But who did?"

I shrugged. "Cole was hunting him. He ran into Isabella’s room looking for a hole to crawl into. He’s been like this since he realized he was trapped."

"God," Jax muttered, leaning in to see Cass’s glazed eyes. "Whatever Brandon did, it broke the poor kid."

Jax looked at me then, and I saw the betrayal. He was pissed I’d led the pack into a potential war without the full details.

I repositioned Cass, tightening my hold. I’d done what I had to. I wasn't going to apologize for saving a life.

But Jax’s stare was cold. He felt like I’d stabbed the pack in the back.

"What do you think happened?" Bear asked.

I shook my head. "He said it wasn't physical before he went under. But it was enough."

"Damn," Jose agreed, reaching out to awkwardly pat Cass’s arm. "Hang in there, little wolf. We’ve got you."

"So, what’s the destination?" Jax asked, his voice guarded. He didn't sound like a friend right now.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I actually hadn't thought that far ahead. I looked at Isabella. She looked just as lost.

"Does he need a healer?" Jose asked.

My stomach twisted. I didn't know. "Physically, he’s solid," I said. But how do you heal a mind that’s decided to hide?

"He just needs a sanctuary," Isabella spoke up. "Somewhere safe to crash until the fog clears."

I nodded. It was the only logical move. But where do you hide a high-profile werewolf in a world full of predators?