Chapter 30 · Blood Command

The vents died.

Floodlights slammed down across the mud. Eight tracked gun-rigs swung their turrets toward my gate and locked.

Eight.

I counted them twice because my hands were shaking so hard from the steam that counting was the only thing I had left. Beside me, Julian’s armor plate ticked as it cooled. The steel was warped black, paint blistered the size of my palm, and he hadn't moved an inch away from my side.

"Theron," Julian said. He didn't yell. An Alpha doesn't have to yell. "Rifles on the perimeter. Nothing crosses that wire."

"You don't bark orders on my dirt," Theron spat.

But he was already running, dragging three shooters up the catwalk.

The rigs didn't fire.

That was what made my stomach turn over.

"They're not shooting," I whispered.

"They're not here to shoot." Julian turned on me. Sleet had plastered his black hair flat against his forehead. Someone else's dark blood was smeared down his jaw. "Nora. The vault. Now."

"The vault's a steel coffin. You want to bury me, say it to my face."

"Move, Nora!"

My kids were locked inside the medevac truck behind the second retaining wall.