I never knew it could be like this.
I smile to myself as I dress, pulling my shirt and pants back on.
And then I see her pants—or, what’s left of them. There’s nothing but a ragged scrap of fabric.
Ah, shit. I’m going to have to loan her some of mine until I can get to town and buy her a replacement. Ha! That’ll be a fun one to explain to the guys at the store.
My head spins as I process everything that’s happened.
She escaped her abusive pack, she left with only her little purse, she’s basically entrusting her entire life to me. A strange urge wrenches through me at that realization—the urge to protect, to care for her. Toprovide.
“Mate,” I whisper, tasting the word again in the stillness of the quiet room.
She must be exhausted, because she just keeps sleeping soundly.
I set out a pair of clean clothes for her on the bedside table, scribbling a note that I’ll be back soon in case she wakes. I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her.
The clothes will be a little big, but the pants have a drawstring. They’ll have to do. At least they’re clean.
If I hurry, maybe I can get out and retrieve my backpack before she even realizes I’m gone.
I step out into the cold, locking the door quietly, but I can’t do the big bar from the outside. Not like anyone else comes out here, anyway. Still. For some reason my wolf whines in my head, suddenly alert again.
Nothinglookswrong, so maybe it’s the lingering scent of danger from when she fell earlier. That’s got to be it.
I don’t know.
All I know is I’ll be fast. With any luck, I’ll be back before she knows I’m gone.
Chapter nine
Get Your Hands off My Mate
Ilean into the shift, racing against the weather as the storm picks up into snow. This high in the mountains, anything is possible, and this time of year we get blizzards like this every once in a while. The stinging, blinding white covers the normal scents, making everything hard to track.
Maybe that’s why my wolf is nervous.
Snow can be disorienting, but I know my way.
Still, anxiety runs through me as I race through the woods and down the trail.
I’m barely gone ten minutes, maybe twenty—sometimes I lose track of time in the shift—but when I get back, I stop at the edge of the clearing.
Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
My ears flatten to my head, and I stand still, scenting the air with my snout.Voices.
There are voices coming from inside my cabin.
“I said let go!” comes Savannah’s voice, high and scared, all that bright confidence gone.
My blood turns ice cold.
I throw myself out of the shift, fury raging through my body as the scent of an outsider overwhelms me. How could I have missed it earlier?! It must be the snow, muting everything.
The door hangs off one hinge, lock busted, splinters of wood scattered around the floor from where it was broken down.
