Chapter 52

The next morning I wake up to an empty bed. Groaning, I stretch and head to the bathroom and the closet to get ready for the day. Once satisfied and dressed I head down the stairs where I find the guys sitting around the table with coffee.

Frode is sitting at his normal spot at the head of the table. Erik is sitting to his right, Rune beside him. My spot to the left of Frode is empty, and Sten is sitting across from Frode.

They are joking and laughing, like a normal day. Yesterday's discovery seems to be forgiven, and we've moved on. The idea makes me smile.

Sten was wrong to keep the information from me. I understand his need to protect me, but honesty is important. Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I'm sure his brothers have already explained all this to him if they are smiling and joking now.

I step into the kitchen to make my coffee and nod at Frode whose smile grows when he sees me. Finishing making my coffee I turn to move to my spot at the table. Turning to walk into the dining room gives me a look at Sten's face, which makes me freeze.

Sten's left eye is black, and he sports a split lip. A hint of a bruise on his right cheek is also visible. He took at least three hits, one for each brother.

I don't feel my coffee mug as it slips from my hand, or hear it shatter as it hits the wooden floor of the kitchen. The scalding coffee isn't felt as it splatters against my bare feet. Vaguely I heard Frode call my name, but I can't respond.

This time instead of just being lurched into a vision, I can see the connection being formed. Before it's completed, a part of me wants to claw it apart. I recognize what I'm about to see.

I close my eyes, but I can still the wrecked living room. The overturned couch, torn cushions. The broken coffee table. The scent of blood is so heavy in the room that a metallic taste fills my mouth. Or maybe that's my own blood I'm getting a taste of.

This time I'm not being held. Instead, I have a vase that I throw before lunging at a hunter. My scalp burns as another hunter grabs my hair and hauls me to my feet. Reflexively my hands reach up to try and ease the pulling of my hair.

"Astrid, don't fight. It'll make it worse." Sten yells from across the room.

Frode is laying on the floor, unconscious, but alive. Rune is fighting off hunter but seems to have the upper hand. Sten is straddling a hunter, who is almost unconscious beneath him.

Don't fight. What was I supposed to do? Just watch this unfold in the corner with my hands in my lap?

Once I'm on my feet I feel the warmth of a body against me. My hair is released, but I'm held against the hunter, my feet barely on the floor.

"Stop fighting. If you stop fighting, she won't get hurt." The voice behind me rasps.

Sten's arm stops midswing through the air. His chest is heaving and I feel his fury shoot across the bond. Rune raises his hands in surrender. They stopped because of me. They put themselves in peril because of me.

The man beneath Sten shoves my mate off him and then pulls Sten into a kneeling position. He draws his arm back to punch Sten in the face. I freeze in shock as I watch him swing. The sound of skin hitting skin snaps me from my position.

"No, stop." I fight against the strong arm that has me pressed against the monster behind me.

The guy holding Sten gets a few more hits in before another hunter pulls the man away. I continue to struggle against the man holding me.

"Sten, Rune, don't stop fighting. Please." I yell.

Sten's gaze meets mine, and it makes me still. His face sports similar bruising to what I saw at the table this morning. The man behind me grabs my hair and uses it to push me to my knees, where the familiar sting of a blade against my throat is felt, along with the warm trickle of blood.

"It's time to leave, and you two are coming with us." The hunter behind me growls.

“We’ll come, just don’t hurt her,” Sten said as he stood and moved toward the man waiting for him.

“No, Sten, stay.” I pleaded; tears ran steadily down my cheeks. “Rune, don’t leave me.” I fought against the hold I was in.

“Stop fighting, or they won’t make it to the door, bitch.” The knife pressed against my throat tightly.

I knew Erik wouldn't appear. I knew they were leaving. Pain flared in my chest.

"Outside, both of you." The hunter that haunts my dreams commanded.

Rune looked at me with an expression that broke my heart. He moved slowly, his love pouring through the bond. Sten followed him, sending the same emotion to me. I couldn't do anything as my mates were followed out the door.

I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head only seconds before my body hit the floor. My eyes closed, stars danced behind my closed lids. It takes me a moment before I can open them again. The sound of doors closing forced me to move before my body was ready to.

I pushed myself to my feet, stabilizing myself on the counter before staggering to the door. Flinging the door open I saw two white vans speeding out of the driveway. Sten and Rune were gone.

But Frode was here.

Turning, I stumble to my knees as the room spins to catch up with me. I force myself to my feet and make it to Frode's side. His face is covered in blood. A sob bubbles up in my chest. I reach for his neck, seeking the comfort of his pulse.

It's there and strong.

Relief overwhelms me, and I lean over his body, sobbing.

Then I see the connection in front of me and I snap it in two. I can't leave this vision fast enough. I gasp as I return to the present.

I'm on Frode's lap on the couch. The others are gathered around, waiting for me to come back to them. I nuzzle into Frode's neck needing to be near him.

"It's the same vision as before, us being separated?" Sten asked.

I nod.

"We felt the same sorrow and pain like last time. It hasn't changed then?" He asked already knowing the answer.

I shake my head.

"There's time. We'll figure it out, kitten." Erik smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Things have been quiet. Too quiet. We're all on edge, waiting for the bomb to drop. But it hasn't and this vision hasn't changed. Maybe the prophecy was right, I'd lose all those I loved, or they'd lose me.