Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty Four - Impossible Mind Link

Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty Four - Impossible Mind Link
DALLAS’S POV

Dallas was halfway through explaining the security protocols for the upcoming Moon Festival when a soft voice hit his mind out of nowhere.

Dallas. Please. I need you.

He froze mid-sentence, his phone still pressed to his ear. The voice was unmistakable; it was Carter’s desperate terrified voice, and it was fading fast. 

But that was impossible. Mind links only worked between an Alpha and their pack members, and Carter was human. Completely, utterly human.

And yet there the voice was in his head again. Come find me, Dallas. Please. 

He felt Carter’s consciousness brushing against his own, begging for help with a desperation so strong that it made Dallas’s blood run cold with dread.

“I have to go,” Dallas said abruptly, ending the call without waiting for a response. He was already moving quickly, his body responding before his brain fully caught up.

The problem was that he had no idea where Carter was at all. 

The Cross mansion was massive; over fifty rooms spread across four floors, not counting the basement levels or the extensive grounds. 

Carter was supposed to be doing a tour with Balfour, which meant he could literally be anywhere in the building.

Dallas grabbed the first servant he saw; a young omega named Claire who was carrying fresh linens down the hallway.

“Have you seen my mate?” he demanded, his commanding Alpha voice making her flinch. “The human. Small, wearing glasses, probably looks terrified.”

Claire’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes, Alpha. You just asked me that five minutes ago. I told you I saw him heading toward the library with Beta Balfour.”

Dallas’s blood turned to ice. “What did you say?”

“You… you asked me the same question. Just a few minutes ago. Don’t you remember?” She was backing away now, clearly frightened by the look on Dallas’s face. “You were heading upstairs toward the eastern wing.”

Dallas was already running before she finished speaking. Someone who looked like him had been asking about Carter. Someone who had somehow gotten access to the mansion, who knew the layout, someone who could pass for Dallas from a distance.

Marcus.

His deranged twin brother had somehow gotten inside. He had infiltrated the one place that was supposed to be safe and was now hunting Carter like prey.

Who knew what he would do if he found Carter? Judging by the last conversation they had, Carter was clearly at high risk of getting attacked for whatever insane reason crossed Marcus’ mind.

“BALFOUR!” Dallas roared, his voice echoing through the halls with enough force to rattle the chandelier. “BALFOUR, ANSWER ME!”

Silence.

There was no response from his Beta, which meant either Balfour was unconscious, incapacitated, or too far away to hear. And none of those options were good.

Dallas pushed his werewolf hearing to its limit, filtering through the ambient noise of the mansion. 

He could hear a million different sounds around the mansion; dozens of heartbeats from the servants and pack members going about their business. 

He could hear the water running in the pipes, the creaking floorboards, and the hum of electricity in the walls.

And then, there. Faint but unmistakable, was a heartbeat that was much too fast and too erratic to be normal. Stuttering and weak like a dying bird.

Dallas realized with horror that that was Carter’s heartbeat.

So he took off at a full sprint, moving faster than any human could ever hope to track.

He burst through hallways, taking the stairs three at a time, his instincts screaming at him to move faster, faster, his mate was dying and he wasn’t there to protect him.

The scent of blood hit him as he reached the third floor. Fresh blood. Carter’s blood, mixed with the acrid stench of fear and pain and his brother’s distinctive scent as well.

Thankfully the bedroom door was open. Dallas slammed through it and immediately saw the bathroom door, it was closed and locked.

He could hear movement inside, as well as the sound of his brother saying something. There were two heartbeats. Carter’s weak and fading, and Marcus’s strong and fast.

“MARCUS!” Dallas’s roar shook the entire room. “Get away from him! GET AWAY FROM MY MATE!”

But there was no response. Only the sound of claws tearing through flesh, and a wet, broken gasp that made Dallas’s heart stop.

Dallas pulled his fist back and drove it straight through the solid wood door, the impact splintering the expensive mahogany like kindling. 

He ripped the door off its hinges entirely and threw it aside.

But it was too late, the bathroom was empty except for Carter.

Marcus had escaped; probably through the small window high on the wall that was now standing open, the curtains billowing in the breeze.

Dallas could smell his brother’s scent leading out onto the roof, he could track exactly how he’d fled across the rooftops and down into the forest beyond.

But none of that mattered. Nothing mattered except the broken, bleeding figure collapsed on his bathroom floor.

Carter lay in a pool of blood so large it looked black in the fluorescent light.

His arms were shredded, the flesh hanging in ribbons from the bone. His stomach had been torn open, and Dallas could see glimpses of things that should never be visible; intestines, muscle, the white gleam of rib bone.

His glasses were shattered on the floor beside him, and his eyes were half-closed, unfocused and glassy with shock and blood loss.

“Carter.” Dallas dropped to his knees beside him, his hands hovering over the wounds, not sure where to touch without causing more damage. “Carter, look at me. Stay with me.”

Carter’s eyes found his face, though Dallas wasn’t sure how much he could actually see. His lips moved, forming words that came out in barely a whisper.

“Where… were you…”

The accusation in those three words hit Dallas harder than anything else could have.

He’d promised to keep Carter safe, promised to protect him and keep him safe.

Instead, he’d left him alone and vulnerable on his own in a strange place, and his own brother had nearly murdered him.

He'd been cut up within an inch of his life, clinging desperately to the hope that help was coming.

“I’m here now,” Dallas said, his voice breaking. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine.”

But even as he said it, he could see Carter’s life draining away onto his bathroom floor, could hear that fluttering heartbeat growing weaker with every second.

Dallas had never felt more helpless in his entire life.

He had to do something to fix this. But what?