Hearing my name from her lips does something to me. Makes my wolf preen with satisfaction despite the circumstances.
“I am,” I confirm with a curt nod. “Reeyan Hale. Grayhide’s historian and strategic advisor.”
She nods slowly as those pale blue eyes watch my every move like she can’t quite believe I’m real. “And you just…happened to be here? On this road, at exactly the right moment?”
“I was on my way to Llewelyn territory. Meeting with Matriarch Lydia about the new intelligence network we’re setting up between packs.” I gesture vaguely toward where my truck is parked. “Council meeting ran late, so I was behind schedule. Otherwise, I would have missed you. I wouldn’t have…”
I trail off as the thought makes my stomach turn. What if I’d left an hour earlier? What if I decided to wait until morning? She’d be gone now, taken by Thornridge to who knows where, and I’d never have known what happened to my mate.
“Lucky timing,” she comments, though her voice is flat, emotionless. The Llewelyn reserve is reasserting itself now that the immediate danger has passed.
“Very lucky.” I force myself to take a step toward her, moving carefully so I don’t spook her. She’s been through enough tonight without me adding to her terror.
The zip ties binding her wrists catch my attention, and anger flares hot in my chest at the sight. They tied her up. Restrained her like an animal.
“Let me get those off you.” I close the remaining distance between us and reach for her wrists.
The moment my fingers brush against her skin, the mate bond ignites between us like a wildfire.
I suck in a breath and freeze. The connection is overwhelming, flooding through every nerve ending in my body with a force that makes the world tilt sideways. It’s recognition and need and belonging all wrapped into one sensation that threatens to bring me to my knees.
Her pupils dilate until only a thin ring of blue remains. She pulls in a quick breath, and I watch her throat work as she swallows.
“What—” she starts, but the word dies on her lips.
The skin underneath the ties is red and raw, already starting to bruise. Rage rushes through me again at the sight. I want to kill those Thornridge bastards all over again for daring to hurt her.
“Thank you.” She peers up at me through her lashes as she adds, “For saving me. I don’t know what they were planning, but—”
“Nothing good.” I sheath the knife and resist the urge to reach for her wrists again, to soothe the injured skin with my touch. “Thornridge has been targeting high-value individuals from all the packs. You’re connected to Llewelyn leadership through your aunt, and you’re close friends with Raegan. That makes you extremely valuable to them.”
“How do you know so much about Thornridge?” She wraps her arms around herself, and I realize she’s probably freezing now that the adrenaline is wearing off. “About their strategies and targets?”
“It’s my job to know. I document patterns, study historical conflicts, and advise the council on potential threats.” I start to shrug out of my jacket, then remember it’s covered in blood. Right. Not helpful. “Thornridge has been on our radar for months now. Ever since they infiltrated the Llewelyn exchange program.”
Her face goes tight at the mention of Bastian. “That was my fault. I recommended him for the program.”
“Bastian was a trained operative,” I tell her. “His entire purpose was to seem trustworthy. You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have seen it.” She looks away, setting her jaw. “I’m supposed to be good at reading people. It’s one of the few skills Llewelyn women are encouraged to develop.”
“Nobody saw it. Not your matriarch, not your council, and not any of the pack leaders who signed off on the exchange program.” I take a small step back, giving her space even though everything in me protests the distance. “You can’t blame yourself for being fooled by someone whose entire job was to fool you.”
She doesn’t respond to that. Just stands there hugging herself, looking small and vulnerable in ways I suspect she’d hate if she knew.
“We should get you somewhere safe.” I gesture toward my truck. “Before more Thornridge operatives show up looking for their missing scouts.”
She nods and takes a tentative step forward. Her legs shake slightly, but she stays upright. Pride fills my chest at her strength, at the way she refuses to show weakness even after everything she’s been through.
We make our way to the truck slowly. I keep close enough to catch her if she stumbles, but far enough away that I’m not crowding her. My wolf protests the distance, demanding I pick her up and carry her to safety, but I ignore him.
She’s been through enough without me manhandling her like she’s helpless.
“My wolf…I can’t feel her,” she breaks the silence as we walk. “What exactly did they do to me?”
“It’s Thornridge technology. Cuts off your connection to your wolf.” I open the passenger door for her. “We’ve beenseeing them show up in intelligence reports for the past few months.”
“How long until it wears off?” She climbs into the truck carefully, moving like everything hurts.
