He loved her in a way that made losing her unthinkable.
And the thought that Blaine—
that anyone—
had touched her, taken her, hurt her—
A growl tore from his throat, low and feral.
He would kill him.
He would kill anyone who threatened her.
He stumbled once, his weakened body protesting, but he forced himself upright. Pain didn’t matter. Exhaustion didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding her.
Then—
“Mara!”
A faint sound.
A cry.
A voice.
His heart lurched.
He ran toward it, crashing through the ice trees, slipping on frost, ignoring the burning in his lungs. The world narrowed to a single point—her.
And then he saw her.
She stumbled into him, hitting his chest with enough force to knock the breath from him. Her hands were bound, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear and relief.
Relief.
For him.
He caught her, arms wrapping around her instinctively, protectively, possessively. The moment she touched him, the terror that had been clawing at his insides broke apart, replaced by a wave of overwhelming relief so strong it nearly brought him to his knees.
She was alive.
She was here.
She was in his arms.
Mine.
He removed the tape from her mouth gently, afraid of hurting her further.
“It was Blaine,” she gasped. “He snuck up on me—dragged me away from our campsite.”
His vision went red for a moment. He snapped the rope binding her wrists with a single twist, fury and relief warring inside him.
“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, dangerous.
“Other than hitting me, tying me up, and taping my mouth shut… I’m fine.”
He pulled her against him, holding her so tightly she could feel his heart pounding. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, grounding himself in the reality that she was safe.
