Mathias shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes. You know that since I’m half-Sidhe, I’m nowhere near as fertile as a regular werewolf. It’s probably for the best. I’m not sure Ward is quite ready for it, and I admit I didn’t come here prepared for it. I have to talk to my grandmother and procure some contraceptives that work on us.”
“That would actually be very useful. I know Saul’s been concerned about getting Gavin pregnant again, especially since we’re not 100 percent sure how the whole process works.” Will hummed thoughtfully. “You think your grandmother could help?”
“Yes. The Folk have looked into ways to improve virility, and those studies eventually encompassed contraceptives too. In any case...”
He froze and trailed off when his bond with his mate—previously vibrating with the creative excitement he always felt when Ward was painting—was invaded by apprehension. His wards, always buzzing at the back of his mind, rippled with a weird, nauseating sensation.
“Matt?” Will asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. Something’s... not right with Ward. I need to go.”
His friend nodded, eyes wide with concern and understanding. “Sure. I understand. Thanks and...”
Mathias didn’t hear the rest of it. Pain shot over him, so intense it transcended the bond and it felt like his own. He clutched his temple and cursed, almost bowling over. “Matt!” Will shouted, alarmed.
When Mathias opened his eyes, he could barely see his friend at all. He just knew one thing. “Ward is in danger.”
He must have said that out loud, because he heard Will gasp. The sound came to him distantly, as if through a veil. He was already moving, rushing toward the car, his full focus on the man he loved.
Ward’s consciousness was muted, which meant that the young human was most likely out cold. Just the thought of it and of the pain Ward had suffered made Mathias want to tear something apart. His claws left scratches in the paint of his car as he opened the door to the vehicle.
His fingers trembled as he reached for the keys in his pocket. In the end, he couldn’t focus enough to find them. The wolf was too agitated, too angry, and too hurt. Mathias tore his clothes off and allowed the change to flow over him, freeing his wounded beast, ready to track down the fool who’d dared to hurt his mate.
Voices called out to him as he took off running, but he ignored them. Technically speaking, the car would have been faster, but as a wolf, he could take paths and shortcuts that more than compensated for the difference. Then again, his anger and his urgency boosted him so much that he probably hit the speed similar to what his car could reach on these roads. It still took too long, and he still felt too slow, too foolish and lost.
He was not surprised to find Ward’s house empty, but he couldn’t help the howl of distress that escaped him. The traces of blood in the bedroom filled him with a frenzy that meant death for the culprits behind this treachery. And oh, what a treachery it was.
In a way, it made sense that someone close to Ward would be the guilty party behind the attack. Given all the years he’d lived, Mathias had his fair share of enemies, but they all knew better than to challenge him, especially with the influence his grandmother yielded. The ambushers could only be someone from Ward’s life, and the arrival of Peter, Vera and Teresa was no coincidence.
And yet... The magical shields should have protected Ward, but they hadn’t. What in the world was going on? Could it be that the similarity in the energy of the kidnappers had fooled the spell? If so, Mathias would never be able to forgive himself for such an amateurish mistake.
That didn’t mean Mathias didn’t feel angry on Ward’s behalf. He would track down his mate’s kidnappers, and once he did so... Well, they would regret ever crossing Mathias’s path.
When Ward stirred, the first thing he became aware of was the pounding in his skull. What in the world had he been doing the night before? The last time he’d felt so horrid was after he’d drunk his ass off the night Peter had told him about his intentions to marry Teresa.
But this was no hangover, just like he no longer felt any urge whatsoever to drink over Peter. Memories flashed back through Ward’s mind’s eye—being woken up by Mathias’s cell phone, the impending birth of his great-uncle’s grandson, painting, the tazer, and then... Being attacked. Fuck.
He tentatively tried to move, and his heart fell when he found himself completely immobilized. In fact, when his vision cleared, he realized that he was securely bound to a chair. Handcuffs bit into his wrists and a harsh rope abraded his ankles. His kidnapper wasn’t taking any chances.
A female voice startled him from his trance. “Ward? Oh, my God, you’re awake! Are you okay?”
Ward turned to face the source of the relieved words, even if he didn’t have to. “I’ve been better,” he told his sister.
“This is all my fault,” Teresa said, her voice trembling. She was tied down as well, her hands handcuffed to a pipe on the wall. “How did I not see what was happening?”
“To be perfectly honest, I still can’t figure it out,” Ward admitted.
There were very few people who knew about his tazer and who were familiar enough with his habits to find it in his new home—and Peter was one of them. Really, Ward should have been more cautious. Given Peter’s recent attitude, he should have expected some sort of violent reaction. He’d been too focused on his relationship with Mathias to care. Clearly, that had been a huge mistake.
“What does Peter even stand to gain from all of this?” he asked, the question directed more to himself than to Teresa. “I mean, I get why he might want to hurt me, but you’re his wife and you’re going to have his baby.”
Teresa’s eyes widened. “You think Peter.... No, Ward. It’s not him.” A tear slid down her cheek as their gazes met. “I think... I think he’s dead. She shot him.”
“She?” Ward asked numbly.
“That would be me,” Vera said from the doorway.
Ward had never thought something could shock him beyond learning that werewolves existed. In the past few weeks, his life had changed so drastically he’d believed he’d reached a point where he could take most everything in stride.