“But it’s the life I cherish now,” Dorian cut in. “I wouldn’t trade Miguel, Benito, Nate, Selene, or any of the changelings for anything in the world.” Dorian inhaled sharply, his breath shuddering. “I wouldn’t change being mated to you.”

  Rick leaned in, smiling at his mate. “I thought I was a prick?”

  “And an asshole,” Dorian added, giving Rick a handsome smile. “But you grew on me.”

  Enveloping Dorian into his arms, Rick gave a light chuckle. “Like mold.”

  “Like mold,” Dorian agreed softly. He tilted his head back. “In this until the end?”

  “The very end,” Rick replied as his chest tightened and his hands began to tremble. “If we get separated…”

  “We meet back up in Shelton,” Dorian finished and then turned his head to the side. “I’ll wait for you forever.”

  Rick grabbed Dorian and held on to him so tightly that he felt the tears burning in the back of his eyes. His fingers gripped his mate’s shirt, his jaw tight with so many emotions that there would never be enough time to profess them all. “Fucking stay alive.”

  “You, too,” Dorian said, and then began to cry. “Don’t you dare die on me, Rick.”

  “Don’t plan on it.” Rick pulled back, capturing Dorian’s lips, pouring everything into that kiss. Their bodies wrapped together, their tongues dueling, their hearts in pain and fear.

  “It’s time,” Edward said as he walked up to Rick, his eyes filled with emotions that Rick knew to be regret. Regret that he hadn’t had another minute with Isabelle and their son, another moment to hold his mate, to tell her that he loved her.

  “She knows,” Rick said and then grabbed Dorian’s hand, standing straight and proud, his back rigid with determination. “It’s time.”

  Marco swung around and shoved the blade into the soldier’s chest, right into his heart. He didn’t have time to become immobilized with the knowledge that he had just killed another being. They were on the move, racing through the streets, heads ducking and heading toward the White House.

  Rick was in the lead, Dorian right behind him. As soon as they had stepped out of the park, the military had been all over them and they were dogging the Rebellions’ steps tirelessly. Marco had nearly fallen over in shock when a tank had fired at them.

  A fucking tank!

  He had seen the video games and movies with men in war situations. But to be an actual part of it was too damn surreal. It was nothing like it had been depicted. The sounds were deafening, the dead didn’t get back up, and there wasn’t a reset button anywhere.

  The violence was a thousand times grimmer in reality.

  Rebellions were coming out of the woodworks, fighting the militant men on the streets—some in human form, others in changeling form. Marco had been running past a bear when a machine gun took the creature down, tearing into his furry flesh like a hot knife through butter.

  The humans tried to keep their focus on Rick, but the Rebellions gave him plenty of cover. Every time bullets sprayed in their direction, a Rebellion group took the shooter out.

  Marco’s heart stayed in his throat the entire time.

  “There,” Rick shouted and then cut across K Street, running between some buildings. Marco slammed his back into the concrete as he tried to catch his breath. He could hear the distant fighting and the sound of wheels bumping over street reflectors as they passed on by, driving slowly and searching for the infamous Enrique Marcelo.

  Marco threw his hands over his head when he heard a loud explosion, and then another. They were close by, too close for his comfort.

  His breath caught in his throat when he heard voices just on the other side of the building they were hiding behind.

  “I know I saw them run this way.”

  Rick’s light-grey eyes cut over to Remus, and then Marco, before landing on Dorian. Nate and Sasha were with them as well, but they had lost Edward, Brooke, and Deluca, along with Pappy. Marco had no idea where they were.

  They hadn’t seen Mason since leaving the park. Marco really didn’t know the others, but hoped they were okay.

  “Get a unit over here to check the buildings.”

  Rick pointed toward an alcove where some cars were parked close by. Marco quietly made his way over to it, his mate right behind him.

  Just as the last person moved into the shadows, Marco saw the men come around the corner.

  “We need backup before we head down there,” one of the humans said. “It could be an ambush.”

  “Charlie and his group should be here any second,” the second human replied. “If Enrique is down here, he’s one dead son of a bitch.”

  Marco’s stomach rolled at the satisfaction in the soldier’s voice.

  He couldn’t understand how anyone could be so happy about killing another being. He felt like vomiting from having to stab a man to save his own life. It just didn’t make any sense to him.

  “We need to move now before their backup gets here,” Nate mouthed to Rick. “We can take them down.”

  Rick gave a grim nod before stepping out of their hiding spot. The humans hadn’t noticed the werewolf alpha yet, but Rick, along with Nate and Sasha, were moving in fast. Nate snapped the first human’s neck with honed accuracy.

  The second human got a shot off before Rick shoved a gun into the man’s gut and pulled the trigger. Marco instantly smelled blood.

  At first, he had thought it to be the man Rick had shot, but then he noticed the stain spreading across Rick’s shoulder.

  “You’ve been shot!” Marco whispered loudly.

  Dorian cursed as they took off running. Rick didn’t pay any attention to the wound as bullets began to hit the buildings all around them.

  As the footfall grew in number and became louder, Marco knew Charlie and his team had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The wound alarmed him, the pain of it, like a large knife stabbing him in his shoulder over and over again. He thought in quick succession—White House. Then, Dorian. Then, objective. But he knew the White House wasn’t too far ahead. He had memorized the street map. They were close, weren’t they? Rick had circled the area on the map, recited the street names, and was looking up at them even now as they ran. They were one block over from where they should be and had to get back on track. And Dorian—was his mate still with him? He turned to see his mate running directly behind him. Rick hadn’t lost the man. Good. He tried to remember their objective, but the pain was starting to override his thoughts, pushing them out, leaving his mind a cauldron of information he couldn’t lace together.

  He was bleeding out too fast.

  “We’re close.” Dorian quickened his steps until he was next to Rick, his eyes focused on the wound. “Are you going to make it?”

  “Yeah.” Rick grabbed his shoulder, trying to apply pressure as they raced through the streets, using their changeling speed to outrun the unit hot on their heels. His feet hit the ground, splashing through puddles left behind by the rain that had come through last night. To his hearing, it was loud, telling his enemy which direction they had run. But the enemy was human. He wasn’t sure if they were close enough to hear the sounds as the group hurried toward their goal.

  Coming to a halt, Rick saw the White House loom into view.

  There was no way he was going to get inside. It was surrounded by so much arsenal, so many humans, patrol dogs, spotlights, and helicopters that even the Shadow would have a hard time getting past the protection given to the president.

  “How are we…” Nate glanced at Rick, his eyes filled with dread.

  “Tell me how and we’ll make it happen.” The dedication was clear in Nate’s tone. He would do anything Rick asked. He just had to figure out how to get past the security. It was a nightmarish situation.

  “Come.”

  Rick glanced around, knowing damn well he had heard the voice.

  It hadn’t belonged to anyone in his group. Dorian moved closer. “The Shadow.”

  Rick must have thought the man up, because when he looked behind him, he saw Salvador’s right-hand man in the darkness.

  “You don’t have much time. Hurry.”

  Grabbing Dorian’s hand, Rick moved toward the Shadow. “You know how to get us in?”

  “The Rebellions are coming.” The eerie eyes glowed red, the silhouette almost seamless. “They will distract the humans long enough for you to get inside.”

  Could anything give enough distraction? Rick wondered. As many Rebellions as he had on his side, the humans seemed to outnumber them two to one. The odds seemed to be stacked against them. The humans had tanks, helicopters, and many other destructive things—the changelings had only guns and claws. How in the hell—Rick spun when a wave of changelings raced past him, climbing over the black gate and rushing the humans.

  Gunfire started, most coming from the helicopters, and then the second wave of changelings joined the first.

  “Now.” The Shadow moved closer. “Go now.”

  Rick could hear the hard thump of his heart in his ears as he took off, never stopping to question the sanity of what he was doing. Rick reached the black iron gate that surrounded the White House and leapt over it, his feet hitting wet grass. He didn’t stop there. He pushed on past the fighting, the bloodshed, and bullets that were whizzing past his head.

  “My lucky night.”

  Rick’s feet slipped in the grass when a human twice his size stepped in front of him, gun aimed directly at Rick’s chest.

  “I’m going to get the Medal of Honor for this kill.”

  His werewolf was trying to break free, trying to claw its way to the surface. All it saw was danger and it wanted to protect Rick. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Rick was going to meet the president in his human form, and not naked. Fighting to keep his werewolf at bay, Rick dropped to the ground and rolled, making it hard for the enemy to pin him down. There was too much fighting going on, and Rick lost himself in the thick wall of bodies.

  The helicopters were no longer firing, the mixture of humans and changelings too overwhelming to pick off the enemy. They hovered around the top of the building, but the guns were silent. It was the people on the ground who were shouting, fighting, and wrestling each other that gave him cover as he pushed closer to his goal.

  “Rick.” His mate was breathless as he grabbed Rick’s hand.

  “Come on.” Dorian pulled Rick to his feet and through the throng of men and women. Rick kept his head down, trying to hide his identity.

  Maybe he should have worn a hoodie. It would have been a great disguise, but it was too late now. He was here and he was running.

  Pain tore through Rick’s right calf, nearly making him crumble to the ground. He knew as he stumbled forward that someone had shot him.

  “There he is!”

  He wasn’t sure who had said those words, but he knew he had to hightail it out of there or every human around him was going to turn and open fire. From the beginning Rick knew that winning the war was going to be a longshot. The odds had been stacked against him from the word go. It amazed him that he had made it this far.

  “Don’t slow down.” Dorian yanked on his hand. “Run.”

  Picking up as much speed as he could considering he was in a mass crowd, Rick pushed, shoved, and elbowed his way through. He spotted Sasha fighting off to his left. The leopard was fast, taking down one human after another. But then Rick saw Sasha fall. He wanted to veer from his course and help the alpha, but Dorian yanked on him again. “Don’t forget your goal, our goal.”

  Worried for the leopard, Rick stayed on course. The front doors loomed ahead, but he knew using them as a means for entry would be foolish. The back of the house was probably his best way in.

  With a wounded shoulder and leg, Rick pushed down the pain he was in and turned left. More changelings joined the fight, making it harder for him to get past everyone. A few humans spotted him, their eyes widening, but they were soon engaged in battle when a changeling—keeping the enemy off his back—charged at them.

  Just as he rounded the house, someone tackled him.

  “I don’t fucking think so.” A punch landed to his head before Rick could turn and knock the soldier off of him. “You aren’t going anywhere near my president.”

  Letting his claws loose, Rick swiped at the man’s face, instantly smelling the blood. Rick held his breath. He had scented the blood spilling all around him, but this close, his werewolf wanted to eat.

  Rick couldn’t let that happen.

  Dorian attacked, shocking the hell out of Rick. His mate had been so adamant about not eating raw flesh. But the man was tearing the soldier apart. Rick wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline of the situation, or if he had finally given into his werewolf’s desires. Whatever the case was, Dorian didn’t stop until the man was unrecognizable.

  “We need to go.” Rick gently pulled Dorian from the ground. He knew his mate was going to think about this later and—shit, Dorian was vomiting, spewing his guts as he dropped to his knees. He had always known his mate was different, but Rick had never met a changeling who didn’t like fresh kill.

  Dorian was the exception to the rule apparently. “Come, gatito. We must go.” His tone was gentle, soft as he helped his mate to his feet. Rick jerked back when blood sprayed all over him. A soldier had shot a changeling’s head off right next to him.

  “That’ll teach ya, you animal.”

  Before Rick could do anything, another changeling replaced the dead one, tearing the human’s throat out. Dorian looked pale as he glanced at Rick’s clothes and then at the carnage at his feet.

  Rick pivoted on his heel as he grabbed Dorian’s arm, taking off once more. He spotted the president’s helicopter on the back lawn, the blades swirling quickly through the air. No, he had to stop the man from leaving. He was going to meet with Rick. If he got away now, it was over.

  Rick pulled the gun from his waistband when he saw men surrounding President Owen, rushing him toward the helicopter.

  “Stop right there!” Rick aimed the gun, shooting one of the men pulling the president to safety.

  He aimed again, but instead of shooting, he was once again shot.

  This time the bullet entered his upper leg, right under his right buttocks. Dorian threw his arms out and caught Rick before he went down. He clutched his mate tightly. “Please,” he shouted. “Are you going to wipe out an entire species just from your fears?”

  President Owen halted, turning his head toward Rick.

  In that one second, Rick inhaled his breath as shock tore through him, down to his very foundation.

  The President of the United States, the man who had allowed so many of Rick’s species to die, who condoned what was going on, was changeling! The man’s eyes held a light glow, just a tiny hint, enough for Rick to see the truth. “You bastard!” Rick slumped against Dorian, his heart struggling to keep up as his limbs felt like dead weights pulling him down. He stared into the traitor’s eyes. “How could you?”

  “Bring him here,” the president ordered, shoving the grabbing hands away from him.

  “Drop your weapon!” someone shouted.

  Rick had a choice to make. He could shoot the traitorous prick between his eyes, sufficiently ending his and Dorian’s lives with the return fire. Or he could drop his gun and pray that they didn’t still end his and Dorian’s lives. “Gatito.” His heart was heavy as he thought over what he should do.

  “The choice is yours, Rick. Whatever you decide, I’m in this until the very end.” Dorian’s arms gripped him tighter. “I love you.”

  It all became crystal clear to Rick in that precise second. He wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t a leader. He was some poor bastard who had gotten caught up in a mess created by a monster who had fathered him. He didn’t belong here, standing on the White House back lawn, three bullets in him, facing off with the president.

  He was just a local werewolf alpha, a district manager who now had a mate and just wanted to go home. His fingers uncoiled as he dropped the gun, listening to the metal as it hit the ground. His mate tugged him closer, holding him up so he wouldn’t crumble.

  A shot rang out and Rick spun with violence, yanked from Dorian’s arms as he saw the ground gaining speed.

  “No!”

  It was finally over.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Are you with me?”

  Bryson? Rick blinked a few times, bright lights hurting his eyes as he tried to focus. Where was he? Was he dead? If he was, what in the hell was Bryson doing here? Where was Dorian?

  “Dorian.” His voice was barely audible, and it was painful as hell to talk. Wherever he was, Rick felt softness beneath him. A bed? Couch?

  “Take it easy.” Dorian’s voice floated toward him. “You’re sedated and recovering.”

  “The fight,” he managed to say, wishing to god he had something to drink. His throat was parched. “Is still happening.”

  Rick tried to sit up when he heard a stranger’s voice. He didn’t know where he was, and there was someone unfamiliar with them. He had to protect Dorian.

  “Whoa, lie back down.” Bryson’s hand was on his chest, pushing him back into a prone position. “You are going to fuck up the work I’ve done to repair you. Lie the hell still.”

  The eyes.

  As Rick lay there, he remembered President Owen’s eyes. The man was a fucking changeling. Blinking a few more times, Rick glanced up. Dorian was standing there, and so was Bryson. Even Remus and Marco were with him.

  And so was President Owen. “Kill him.”

  “We can’t.” Dorian moved closer, kneeling so he was at Rick’s level. “He’s the one who saved your life.”

  “He’s changeling.”

  Dorian’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as he stared at the president. “You smell human.”

  Owen shoved his hands into his front pockets, glancing at the changelings in the room. “I’m taking something to suppress my scent.”

  “Traitor,” Rick growled. Well, he tried to growl, but with such a dry throat, it sounded more like a rumbling.