Her scent is overwhelming now, making my head swim with desire and worry.
She’s close, I growl through our pack link, the mental voice echoing in the heads of my four packmates.And she’s in heat.
The pack answers with a chorus of snarls and whines, our pace increasing as we race through the forest. The trees thinsuddenly, opening onto a wide meadow bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun. And there, in the center, is a splash of white dress against the green grass.
My heart stops.
Anya lies curled on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle. She’s wearing a white dress that has ragged holes in the delicate fabric. The rising sun turns her blond hair to molten gold, the curls spilling around her face in wild disarray. Her eyes are shut tight, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps that I can hear even from a distance.
The sight of her broken, hurting, and alone sends a wave of rage through me so powerful that I nearly lose control of my shift. If Keith or any of his men laid hands on her...
Easy, Alaric warns through the link, sensing my distress. She needs us to be calm right now.
He’s right. I force the rage down, pushing it deep into the core of my being where I can deal with it later. Right now, Anya needs help.
I shift as I run, my body changing from wolf to human in a painful rush of cracking bones and reforming muscle. My pack follows suit, five naked men racing across the meadow toward our fallen omega.
I reach her first, dropping to my knees beside her trembling form. She doesn’t even notice me, lost in whatever pain grips her. Her skin is burning hot to the touch, her dress soaked with sweat. I slide my arms beneath her, lifting her gently against my chest.
“Anya,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now.”
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then fix on my face with dawning recognition.
“Ryker?” she whispers, her voice thick with pain. “Is it really you?”
“It’s me,” I promise, brushing a sweat-dampened curl from her forehead. “I’m here. We all are.”
Her gaze moves past me to the pack standing in a protective circle around us, their faces tight with concern. She reaches out with one trembling hand, and Rex catches it, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm.
“They had me,” she says, tears spilling down her cheeks. “But I escaped…I think I’m in heat. And I want to be marked by you.”
Alarm flashes through the pack. Marking isn’t something to be taken lightly. It’s permanent, irrevocable. Once done, she’ll be ours forever, bound to us by a bond deeper than marriage, more powerful than any human vow.
“Anya,” I say carefully. “Are you sure? Just yesterday, you weren’t ready for that. We can knot you without marking you until you’re truly ready.”
“No, I’m ready,” she insists, her voice stronger despite the pain etched on her face. “It’s the only way to keep me safe. If I’m marked, other packs will know I’m taken. They’ll leave me alone.”
Understanding dawns on me.
She’s terrified.
After whatever happened with Keith, she wants the protection of our mark. She wants to belong to a pack, rather than be vulnerable to any alpha who might catch her scent.
I look at my pack, reading the agreement in their eyes. We’ve all wanted this since the moment we met her. We just never expected it to happen like this.
“You understand what marking means?” I ask her, one hand cradling her face. “It’s for life, Anya. Once we do this, you’ll be ours, and we’ll be yours. Forever.”
“I know,” she says, her glistening eyes meeting mine. “I want that. I want you.”
I nod, making my decision. “How do you want it done? One at a time, or all together?”
Her eyes widen slightly at the question. “Can you do it all at once?”
I smile, brushing a thumb across her lower lip. “We can do anything you want, baby.”
I turn to my pack, and they move in without needing to be told, taking positions around her trembling form. Lorenzo lifts the tattered edge of her dress, exposing the soft skin of her upper thigh. Alaric takes her arm, turning it to reveal the delicate pulse point at her wrist. Marcus positions himself behind her, one large hand splaying across her ass cheek, holding her steady. Rex kneels beside me, his mouth hovering over the swell of her breast.
“Ready?” Alaric asks.
