Page 90 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
“He was using some kind of Shaman magic.” Rhiannon’s voice is strained from exertion and anger. “But he vanished before we could get to him.”
Xander stands determinedly. “Then it’s true. Holden has been controlling Jayme this whole time.”
I nod, watching Jayme’s chest rise and fall with shallow breaths.
Conan pounds the wall with a fist. “And now that mystical psychopath is loose somewhere, probably plotting his next move.”
Akila puts her hand on Conan’s shoulder. “We’ll find him.”
Rhiannon’s fist tightens at her side. “And when we do, we’ll make sure he never hurts Jayme again.”
Chapter 34 — Rhiannon
Tension radiates off every surface of Xander’s study like heat from a forge with all of us crammed inside. I lean against the wall near the window, watching him pace behind his desk while the others settle into various positions around the room.
The pounding in my chest still hasn’t fully settled. It’s not just from the fight, but from whatever the hell happened between Ethan and me during Holden’s magical explosion.
Not now. Focus.
Conan shifts his weight near the door. “By the time I got Elder Stasio to the infirmary, Olcan said he’d slipped into a coma.” He runs a hand through his golden hair. “No telling when he’ll wake up, if he wakes up at all. But that’s not all, the Elder also wasn’t wearing his protective charm.”
Xander stops pacing to face us. “That’s odd. The Shaman typically wear them at all times, especially in foreign territory.”
Conan nods. “It doesn’t make sense.”
I push off the wall, the connection forming in my mind. “Holden must’ve taken it before sending Jayme to attack him. He wanted to cause maximum damage to his own father.”
“Premeditative and cruel.” Branson’s massive frame tenses from where he stands near the fireplace.
“Do we know how Jayme escaped the dungeons again?” Xander asks.
Akila nods from her perch on the arm of a leather chair. “The guards posted at Jayme’s cell were knocked out cold by Shaman magic, based on the residual energy. Holden waltzed right in and released Jayme to do his dirty work.”
My wolf snarls inside me, remembering the look in those white eyes when Jayme transformed. It wasn’t rage, but fear. The poor bastard probably had no idea what was happening to him.
“Jayme’s been sedated and chained back up in the dungeon,” Akila continues.
“Chained?” Branson slams his palm against the stone mantle. “We just proved none of this is his fault! He’s avictimhere, not a criminal!”
“Branson—” Xander starts, but Branson whirls on him.
“No! My brother has been tortured enough. First by the Gorg Pack, now this. You can’t keep treating Jayme like a monster when the real monster just tried to possess him to murder his own father!”
The raw pain in Branson’s voice makes my chest hurt. My eyes drift to Ethan before I can stop myself. He’s watching Branson with that intense focus he gets when he’s reading people, cataloging every micro-expression.
Xander’s voice drops to his Alpha tone. When he speaks, it’s not quite a command, but close. “It’s necessary, Branson. Until we stop Holden, Jayme remains vulnerable to his control. The chains are for everyone’s protection, including Jayme’s.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Branson’s hands curl into fists. “You think I don’t understand the danger? But there has to be another way. We can’t just—”
“We can’t risk him being used as a weapon again,” I interrupt, keeping my voice steady despite the guilt churning in my gut. “Holden’s shown he can activate Jayme at will. What if next time he sends him after Thea? Or uses him to slaughter half the pack while we sleep?”
Branson’s jaw works, but he doesn’t argue. He knows I’m right, even if he hates it.
“The sedation is temporary,” Xander says, his tone softening slightly. “Just until we figure out how to block Holden’s influence. Olcan is researching options as we speak.”
“And what about finding Holden?” Conan asks. “He could be anywhere by now. That teleportation trick of his—”
“Required massive power,” Ethan speaks up for the first time since we entered the study. Everyone turns to look at him. “That level of magic leaves a trace and exhausts the user. He can’t have gone far, not immediately.”
