He wouldn’t allow it.We have a mate to protect! Don’t you dare leave her to just me!
At first there was nothing. No response. No familiar animalistic presence in his mind, him but separate. Otto refused to concede defeat even as he was wracked by more spasms, by rising and crashing waves of pain and the clammy sweat of fever.
Come back,he ordered, tears dripping down his sweaty cheeks and into his unkempt beard.Come back to me!
The door to his cell began to open. A razorblade of yellow light bisected the floor. Josephine’s scent, tangled with fresh blood and putrid fear, slapped him across the face.
From somewhere deep in his mind, buried under shadow and ash left by the flame of lyssa, the bear roused.
Magic boiled in his veins. A sense of tearing, a great rending somewhere deep in his breast, accompanied the shift. Josephine’s ribbon tore as he broke free of his shackles. The bear swayed on his feet, unsteady and gripped by pain, until his mate cried out on the other side of the door.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
Otto burst from the barn,his muzzle streaked with blood and his mate limping behind him, to find the once sleepy homestead swarming with shifters. Acrid smoke hung in the air from the burning home across the yard. The turf roof smoldered, leaking smoke, while the beams and doors crackled with licking flames.
Some of his men were shifted while others stood on two legs, carrying rifles and dressed in faded uniforms. A few stood over a dazed, ash-streaked woman sitting in the dirt, while others darted in and out of the burning home carrying what books, trunks, supplies, and paperwork they could. There was no sign of the small man in the linen suit, nor the other guard.
He wanted to believe they were dead, but the only scent of fresh blood emanated from the barn, so he doubted it.
A howl of welcome went up as he emerged from the barn. Otto stood on his hind legs and roared back, half in greeting and half as a warning to stay away from the woman cowering against his back.
He could feel Josephine’s little fingers twisting in his fur as a massive, gray-streaked wolf loped up to them and leapt from side to side, tail thrashing.
It was Rafael. Intelligent eyes of warm amber gleamed up at him as he barked and yipped with wolfish delight. Normally, Otto would have greeted his friend with a light swat of his heavy paw, but not this time. Lip lifting in a warning snarl, he dropped onto all fours and backed up, pushing Josephine into the side of the barn. If anyone wanted to see her, too bad. They’d have to get through a polar bear first.
Rafael cocked his head to one side, triangular ears moving, before he lifted his nose and scented the air. He blinked. Slowly, he sidestepped, eyes focused on the treasure Otto was clearly guarding.
Instincts in a riot and lyssa raging in his blood like fire, Otto couldn’t tolerate the wolf’s nearness to his unclaimed mate. Lifting himself up again, he dropped down onto his front paws with enough force to shake the earth between them and let loose a deep warning growl.Back off!
“Rafael, get your ass away from himnow.”
Otto swung his head to the side and found a welcome sight: Lee Seymour himself striding toward them, his rifle slung across his back and dark skin sheened with sweat. He was taller and a bit leaner than Otto, with a deep chest and long legs capable of running like no one Otto had ever seen before. An even-tempered elk shifter with a keen, tactical mind, Lee was the best commander the Alliance could boast.
Icy blue eyes took in Otto’s territorial stance with perfect calm even as he grasped the wolf by the scruff and effortlessly tossed him to the side. Rafael yipped and sprang back with a growl. One hard look from Lee, however, sent the wolf loping off again, his tail a bit lower.
Lee propped his hands on his hips. “Shit, Otto. I’d say it’s good to see you, but I don’t think you’d return the sentiment. Would be nice to get a little gratitude for tracking your ass back here, you know. Care to shift and tell me what the fuck is going on?”
He knew he had to. Lee needed to know what had happened here, what Josephine and all the other subjects of Doctor Wyeth’s experiments were. But the more he tried to force down the aggression, the harder it became.
There were too many people near his mate. The stench of blood and ash in the air clogged his nose. He could still taste Doctor Wyeth in his mouth, could still hear his screams as Otto ripped him apart. He wanted to do it again. Bloodlust and aggression ran high in blood so hot, it felt like liquid fire.
Threats were everywhere. How could he shift? He couldn’t protect his mate that way.
It had never been difficult to move between forms, but Otto suddenly found himself fighting the bear and the bear fighting him, neither willing to give up ground. Like in the cell, it was as if he had to reach deeper, try harder to connect with the bear. What was once effortless now took work. Focus.
Too bad focusing was almost impossible when all he wanted to do was snatch up his mate between his jaws and run off with her.
A growl built in his throat as the bear took stock of Lee and the men who had begun to gravitate toward them. Could they run? One swipe of his paw and—
“My mate.” Josephine’s shaky voice, no more than a hoarse whisper, snapped him back to reality. Her little hands shook as they petted his side, soothing him. “C-Can you turn back? Please?”
For you? Anything.
The thought had barely passed through his mind before his magic surged, hotter than it ever had. In a blink, he stood on two feet again, considerably shorter than he was a moment ago.
His muscles screamed and nausea threatened again, but Otto grit his teeth and pressed himself back against Josephine, shielding her from view.
It didn’t do a bit of good.
