Again.” Greer raced toward the hospital, a shivering Mollie cradled in his arms. “Never again.” To say he was pissed would be like saying there would be snow flurries in Alaska in winter. Lore was rushing Noah to the hospital in his patrol car, the lights and sirens running. He’d radioed ahead to let them know that they had the injured alpha and an unconscious, ice-cold Mollie en route. Greer didn’t want to wait for Lore. He could move as fast as needed, and right now he needed to be breaking the fucking sound barrier. Mollie’s lips were blue—hell, all of her was blue, and she was barely breathing. She’d killed Lena, destroyed her till not even ash was left, but it had taken all of her to do so. Greer had been upstairs, rummaging through Lena’s computer files, when he’d heard Lore shouting for him. It had only taken one quick glance at the shape the alpha was in for Greer to dash down to the basement.
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