Read Carter's Tryck [Brac Pack 17] for Free Online

his mate soon, he’d light the wick himself.
    “Is there anyone here willing to save one of your own?” Maverick spoke loudly. Tryck watched as person after person slowly backed away. It frustrated the hell out of him. He knew not all were fighters, but an entire clan of cowards? He couldn’t even fathom living in a place like this. Even the leader looked shaken. The war had taken its toll, understandable, but surely some of them were fighters.
    “I can take you.”
    Tryck twisted around, his nerves on edge from worrying about his mate. “Who the fuck are you?” his claws were out, his canines extended. If this guy hadn’t volunteered, he would have torn this village apart.
    “Teaky, his roommate and best friend .” The possessiveness in the man’s voice set Tryck’s anger off into a whole other direction. He didn’t have time for that now. His mate needed saving.
    “Take me, now.” He barked out his command. Teaky nodded, placing his hand on Tryck’s shoulder. The Timber wolves all held hands as they shimmered into what looked like a watery gravesite.
    “Is this a trick?” Remi looked around and then back at their tour guide. Tryck could see nothing but swamps and a few patches of land.
    It was someplace one might be if having a nightmare. The place looked desolate and empty. He was starting to have seconds thought about trusting this elf. Where they stood was no place for any creature to be.
    “No, this is where they dwell,” Teaky whispered.
    All six shifters and the Elvin man crouched down, scanning the area. There was one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the reeds and water.

    36
    Lynn Hagen
    Tryck’s heart plummeted when he saw the gray building that resembled a veterinarian clinic sitting on dry land. No! A snarl ripped from him, the familiar-looking building bringing back memories of a rescue not so far in the past.
    “Isn’t that the same kind of building we found Heaven in?” Law asked quietly.
    Tryck slammed his fists at his temples, rage consuming him. If they harmed one hair on Carter’s head, he would make them all suffer.
    He didn’t wait for anyone else, Tryck belly-crawled to the outer perimeter of the building. His eyes scanned the outer wall, seeing bars on the windows. Guess the doc learned the second time around. Only this time Tryck was going to make sure the sick fuck didn’t get away.

    * * * *
    Carter threw his hands in front of his face when bright light flooded the room. Ahm walked in, carrying something resembling a bracelet in his hand.
    “Get up.” Ahm grabbed Carter roughly by his wrist, yanking him to his feet. Carter whimpered when the Elven pulled at his arm, trying his hardest to free himself. Ahm closed the bracelet around his wrist, a snick indicating that it had locked into place.
    “Get it off,” Carter cried, pulling manically at the trinket. Ahm backhanded him into the wall, Carter’s head hitting it with a loud crack. He grabbed his head, pain shooting through it and dizziness assailing him. He could feel something warm trickling down the side of his scalp.
    “Learn to obey,” Ahm snarled, and then yanked Carter’s arm roughly, leading him from the room. As soon as Carter cleared the door, he tried to shimmer. Nothing happened.
    Ahm laughed satanically. “The bracelet stops you from shimmering. A little invention we Shadow Elves came up with.” Carter’s Tryck
    37
    Carter tried once again to remove the bracelet that now felt like a weighted shackle. He dropped to the floor before Ahm’s hand connected with his face, his hands protectively over his head. He may have called himself a Sentinel when he introduced himself to Maverick, but that was a title the others in his tribe had given him when sent to retrieve Avantiana, now known as Melonee.
    He wasn’t a Sentinel, had never been in an altercation in his life.
    He now knew that his tribe had tricked him and threw the honorific title at him just so he would be the one to go retrieve