Neither of them moved. Wind screamed around them, and the snow kept falling. But she couldn’t look away.
She’d seen Zeke angry. Seen him protective and fierce.
This was something else.
This was pure, unleashed fury wrapped in muscle and claws. A monster made of rage who’d torn through blood-mad feral like they were paper.
And he’d come for her.
5
Zeke stood over the carnage, blood dripping from his claws as the new presence in his veins hummed, wordless and alien. It pulsed through his veins like a second heartbeat, stronger now than it had been even an hour ago. Whatever had awakened in him when Michelle was taken, it was growing. Making him into something he’d spent his entire life trying not to become.
Michelle stared up at him.
Her face was pale, expression unreadable in the swirling snow. She didn’t speak, didn’t move… just watched him with those dark eyes while his claws slowly retracted with soft clicks. Even now, with her eyes wide and snow clinging to her hair, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Mine. The thought slammed through him, making him clench his hands into fists. Every instinct he possessed screamed that she belonged to him, that he should protect her, claim her, keep her safe. The presence roared its agreement, sending heat racing through his veins.
But she wasn’t his. How could she be, after what she’d seen?
Monster. Monster. Monster.
The word echoed in his skull.
A violent shiver wracked her, snapping him back to the immediate danger. Her lips had gone blue, her breathing coming in shallow puffs of vapor that hung in the icy air. She’d wrapped her arms around herself, the thin jacket torn and ragged from whatever the ferals had put her through.
The storm howled around them, wind cutting through the trees like knives. The temperature was dropping fast, and she was already shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
Draanth. She wouldn’t last much longer. Time was running out.
He yanked off his shirt, the icy air trying to make his muscles lock up, but he ignored it. Michelle’s eyes widened as he moved toward her, pupils dilated with shock and cold… or fear of him.
The thought made his heart ache.
“What are you?—”
“You’re freezing.” He wrapped the shirt around her shoulders with quick, efficient movements. The fabric was still warm from his body. Her scent reached him then—that light floral and something uniquely her, overlaid with the sharp smell of fear. “We need to move. Now.”
Before she could argue, he swept her up against his chest. She was lighter than he’d expected, her frame delicate in his arms, and the feel of her pressed against him made every nerve ending sing with awareness.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
The word pounded in rhythm with his heart.
Her arms came around his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as she held on. Her breath ghosted against his neck, warm and rapid, each exhale a small puff of moisture against his throat. Electricity raced along his nerve endings.
“Hold on,” he murmured against her ear, fighting to keep his voice steady. She shivered and tightened her grip around his neck, and he felt her nod against his shoulder.
The trust in that simple gesture nearly undid him. After what she’d seen, she was still holding onto him like he was her salvation instead of her doom.
He ran.
The snow crunched under his boots as he pushed through the deepening drifts. She pressed her face tighter against his shoulder as the storm whipped up stronger around them.
He burned, aware of every point of contact between his body and hers. The curve of her hip against his forearm, the way her breasts pressed against his chest with each step. His body responded despite the cold, despite the danger… despite knowing that she’d probably never look at him the same way again.
Red eyes gleamed in the storm ahead.
