Evermore by Rebecca Royce

heroes are all down for the count.”
    Homer’s wolf prowled to life, desperate to be given the ability to take down his enemies. They’d harmed him and left his mate vulnerable. They could not be allowed to live.
    “Why keep us alive?” Joe called out. “Why not kill us where we stood. You could have. Don’t have the taste for death?”
    While Joe’s question warranted an answer, Homer really wished he’d keep his mouth shut. Silence was frequently called for in heightened situations. Why make it worse? “Joe.”
    “Why kill you when we can use you?”
    The man whose dark scent spoke of leadership stepped forward. The whole room stank of drug abuse, there wasn’t a clean wolf amongst them. He hated the stink in close quarters. The city had been bad enough but at least he’d been outdoors. Tall with visible veins crisscrossing his face, the man who spoke might have at one time been a formidable werewolf. But his body had been worn down. How close was he to death? Homer would be happy to put him out of his misery.
    “We aren’t going to be doing anything for you.” Joe snarled and Homer had the satisfaction of seeing his friend hadn’t totally lost his fight. “So get that out of your head.”
    “We’ve found ourselves a real gift of dragon eggs and we need someone to harvest them for their drugs. Cut ourselves a sweet deal with the distributor. He’s going to let us keep a whole bunch for ourselves. But we need wolves to harvest it. That’s where you come in.”
    Homer tugged at his chains so hard his wrists burned. They happened to know how to make the drug. The elite unit had been briefed on the particulars of the whole process when they’d been trying to destroy it. No way would these cowards know that, however.
    “We don’t have the slightest idea how to make the drug.” Homer had long ago learned to how to hide fabrication from his scent. Not that the wolves in front of him had the capacity to tell the difference anymore.
    “I might believe you if I hadn’t been told who you boys were.” The man sneered. “I’ve it on good authority you’re some kind of special wolves, some kind of heroes. The best of the best. And you know more than anyone else what we need.”
    Homer’s mind whirled. Who could have told him that? They’re identities were closely guarded. No one outside of the pack should have had that information to give out. If the truth of their role in the war had been revealed, what else had come to light? Was Camille already at risk? “Where are you getting your information?”
    “Had a girl with us for a while. Named Elizabeth Knox. She died last year but she and her mate were here with us. Her sisters mated two of you. Guess family talks to family.”
    Homer didn’t believe for a second either Lena or Caitlyn had shared secret information with their drug-addled sister. He would, however, not put it past the love their mother still had for Elizabeth to have passed some info on to the woman before she herself succumbed to old age and heartbreak. In any case, at least they could figure out how to plug up a leak.
    “There isn’t anything you could ever do to me to make me help you.” Homer wanted to be clear on that point. “So why don’t we cut a deal? There has to be something else you want, something I can get for you.” Some way out of my chains so I can tear you to small shreds .
    “You will. Because if you don’t help us, you’ll never get any more of this.” The man pulled a syringe out of his pocket. “And after today you’re all going to be dying for a splash. The sheer ease of life with it in your veins, the way you know all will always be right for the times when you’re up.”
    “Shit.” Joe struggled with his restraints. “You aren’t putting that in me. No. No. No.”
    Homer took a deep breath. This was happening. He was chained up and couldn’t move. Drug-addled lunatics were going to shoot him up and there was very little he could do to make it