It was a sound that came from her, and therefore one that shouldn’t have frightened the shit out of her.But that howl had every single hair on her body standing to attention until, suddenly, El wasn’t standing there, but a Panther.
Bright green eyes with a slit pupil surveyed the calamitous state of a bedroom that had seen a rough couple of hours overnight.
Though the creaturesaw,it didn’t process.Couldn’t process.The beast could think of one thing, and one thing only...
Her mates.
Their safety.
As well as their current location.Since they weren’t right by the big cat’s damn side, they were too fucking far away.
A roarof agony escaped Ryan as his skin burned, peeling away as the fire gorging his clothes licked at his flesh.
The explosion had shot him up into the air and thrown him fifty feet away.
Only the fact he was a cat Shifter had him standing here...well, crouching here.Half bent over, he gritted his teeth and fought the agonizing sensations suffocating him as his weak arms patted at the flames licking his skin.
Grateful when the last of his strength beat out the fire, he hobbled toward a tree and nearly collapsed as he leaned against it, using it for support as he tried to breathe, tried not to let the burns covering him cripple him and send him shaking to his knees.
That last part was harder than he could have even imagined.
He knew he needed to shift; knew that the longer he stayed in this form, the longer he’d be in pain.But the huge energy drain of the shift would be dangerous in itself.
What he could handle when he was fighting fit and what he could handle now were two very different things.
His Lion, stuck inside and understanding why, still chomped at the bit.It wanted out, it wanted to scent shit, wanted to figure out what the fuck had gone on here and who had left their markers.
The Lion didn’t need to be involved in that.Other members of the Pride would investigate exactly what had happened here, but the betrayal stung.
Somebody had accessed their compound and had planted devices on their cars.
It had to be someone in the Pride.Someone with easy access all year round.They kept too complete logs of the people who came and went through the large gates that El, his mate, said reminded her of the ones at Disneyworld.A design choice that was, according to her, spoiled by the fact that the Pride House, his seat as Pride Leader, looked like a happy Addams’s Family mansion.
He shuddered at the thought of her, and knew he had to be grateful he was alive if not kicking for her benefit.
She was his everything.She always had been, even when he hadn’t known who she was and had just had the ethereal notion of his mate, but she always would be.
That was the way of it for them.
A scent, a glance, a knowing.It could take a moment or a handful of minutes, but the binding that came was concrete.Set into stone so strong nothing could shake its foundations.
Well, nothing save a bomb blast.
His face, covered in sweat and dirt and soot, contorted as he peered down at himself.He was in one piece, miraculously enough, which meant the explosion had been closer to the center of the cavalcade than where he’d been scenting at the front.
When he’d climbed into his limo at the back, he’d scented something funny.Something that had jerked at his attention, pulling at him until he got out to investigate.
The blast had tossed him far, but what about Trip?His Triad brother?
For decades now, he, Trip, and Marc had been united in their search for the one woman who would complete them.
They’d found her a handful of weeks ago.She’d brought with her more troubles than a nest teeming with Black Widows, but he wouldn’t change her for the world.
She was his.
His to love, his to cherish, his to protect.
And he’d failed her.
