“Efficient,” Kol observed, eyeing Viktor’s unconscious form. “Though I’m guessing you wanted him alive for questioning.”
“Winslet’s ex-fiancé Bracken sent him.” Korrak pulled the parka on, his attention already shifting to Winslet, and not on Kol’s frustrated glare. “I need to know what Bracken’s plan entailed.”
“I’ll secure him and get him to the holding facility. Interrogation once he’s stable enough to talk.” Kol’s gray eyes flicked toward the SUV. “How is she?”
Korrak was already moving, lifting Winslet carefully from the vehicle’s tailgate. Her body was warm but unnaturally limp, her breathing shallow and regular.
“Sedated. Professional grade.” Korrak’s jaw tightened as he cradled her against his chest. “She’ll recover, but she needs warmth and monitoring.”
Kol nodded, already moving toward Viktor’s prone form. “Go. I’ll handle him.”
Korrak didn’t need the invitation. Holding Winslet’s unconscious body crystallized every protective instinct inside him. The mate bond might terrify her, but it existed whether she accepted it or not. And that bond demanded he keep her safe, even if she needed space to understand what safety with him actually meant.
The walk back to his Jeep felt both endless and too short—endless because every step reminded him how vulnerable she’d been without his protection, too short because he knew the conversation waiting when she woke would test both their resolve.
No more distance. No more space. Not until Bracken is eliminated and the threat is gone for good.
The decision settled into his bones with the finality of ice forming over water. Winslet could process the mate bond from the safety of his cabin, under his protection, where no one could touch her without going through him first.
His polar bear rumbled approval as he secured her in the passenger seat, her head resting against the window as he drove toward home.
The cabin’s warmth soon wrapped around them as Korrak carried Winslet across the threshold, her unconscious form limp against his chest. Her breathing remained steady but shallow, the sedative’s chemical tang still clinging to her skin beneath the jasmine scent that drove his polar bear to protective fury.
Focus. Care first. Rage later.
Korrak settled her onto his bed with deliberate gentleness, his hands checking her pulse at her wrist—strong, regular—before pulling the heavy quilts up to her chin. The pallor in her cheeks worried him more than he’d admit aloud. Viktor’s injection had been professional grade, designed to keep someone unconscious for hours.
His polar bear demanded he hunt down Bracken right now. The beast wanted blood, wanted to tear Bracken limb from limb for orchestrating this violation of his mate. But Winslet needed stability when she woke, not an Alpha consumed by territorial rage.
Korrak forced himself into the kitchen, movements precise and controlled as he pulled ingredients from cabinets. Chicken broth, herbs, vegetables—simple things that would ground him in purpose while his mind churned with violence. The knife work required focus, each cut deliberate and clean. Onions, carrots, celery. The rhythm steadied his breathing.
She’s safe. She’s here.
The mantra repeated as he set the pot to simmer, the rich aroma filling the cabin with domestic normalcy that feltboth foreign and essential. His hands moved through familiar motions—tea leaves measured, water heated, honey set aside for sweetening. Tasks that kept his body busy while his heart hammered.
The fear sat heavy in his chest, sharp-edged and unforgiving. How close had he come to losing her? Minutes. Seconds, maybe, before Viktor could have disappeared with her into the vastness beyond his territory. The thought made his hands shake as he stirred the soup.
Never again. She doesn’t leave my sight until Bracken is eliminated.
Steam rose from the mug as Korrak poured hot water over the tea leaves, the bergamot scent mingling with the soup’s savory warmth. Everything ready for when she woke. Everything prepared to ground her in safety instead of the terror she’d undoubtedly carry from the attack.
A soft sound from the bedroom drew his attention—not quite a moan, but the subtle shift of someone fighting toward consciousness. Korrak moved silently to the doorway, watching as Winslet’s eyelids fluttered, her breathing pattern changing from sedated sleep to natural waking.
Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused and confused as they swept the room. Then panic hit like lightning.
“No—“ Winslet bolted upright, her hands scrambling across the bedding as terror flooded her features. “Where—Bracken, please, I won’t?—“
“Winslet.” Korrak’s voice cut through her panic, low and steady. “You’re safe. You’re in my cabin.”
Her green eyes snapped to his face, recognition dawning through the chemical fog. Relief crashed over her features so violently that tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Korrak.” His name broke from her lips like a prayer. “Oh God, I thought—when I woke up, I expected to see his face, not—“ Her voice cracked. “You came for me.”
“Always.” The word carried absolute certainty. “Viktor won’t touch you again.”
Winslet struggled to sit up fully, her movements still sluggish from the sedative. “I’m so sorry. About earlier, about needing space, about being afraid of—“ She gestured helplessly between them. “The mate bond terrifies me, but losing you terrifies me more.”
Something cracked open in Korrak’s chest, sharp and clean as breaking ice. He moved to the bed’s edge, sitting carefully so he wouldn’t crowd her.
