Rowan’s phone dinged. A text of the address popped on the screen, unfamiliar, but from the details, farther away from the Crescent Moon pack territory.
Zephyr's pulse thundered in his ears. His thoughts were all over the place, mind scrambling for a solution, an answer.
He glanced at the young man laid unconscious on the bed. He needed answers about what happened, about the real faces of the man who took Rowan and the old lady. Answers only the young man lying unconscious on the bed can provide.
“Hey,” Zephyr tapped him on the cheek. “Hey, open your eyes, wake up,” said but it was useless. The man wouldn't wake, didn't shake.
Zephyr glanced at the time on his wristwatch. It was already four O'clock in the evening. Two minutes had passed. He had twenty eight minutes left to get to the a
