Ruth’s POV:
I was helping my aunt restock shelves in her store—my supposed day off—when my phone buzzed with Cole’s name.
Code red.
That was all he said before the line cut.
I didn’t ask questions. I just ran to my truck and grabbed my go-bags—stocked for field trauma. Painkillers, sedatives, IV lines, O-neg blood, the works.
By the time I’d confirmed my inventory, Cole sent a mind-link:
Winters residence. Border outskirts. Bring everything.
That caught my attention. No detail. No warning. Just urgency.
I drove like hell. The house was isolated, one of the older properties near the perimeter of pack land. Cold, quiet, and too far from anyone who’d notice a scream.
As I pulled up outside, I linked him again.
“I’m here.”
“Just walk in. Door’s unlocked,” came his immediate reply. “
