She didn’t look back, never slowed down. The trees blurred past her, the ground was uneven, and she nearly went down twice, but she kept her eyes on the treeline and kept going—lungs burning, legs burning, brain burning. But fear burned more, so she ignored everything but the truck.
No shout, no calling after her or anything. Only heavy footsteps–a man’s, then a wolf’s. Fast and getting faster, closing the distance between them with ground-eating strides that reminded her, horribly, that she was human, he absolutely was not, and how in the world did she ever think this could work?
But she ran harder, because, what else?
The trees broke open, with the truck sitting in the parking lot. She aimed for it, dug in, and...please, please, please, let me get to it.
Behind her, the footsteps were too close. She felt him the way you feel a wave, the certainty of it hitting and taking you under. No matter. It only pushed her harder, past the point of pain, of hope.
Twenty feet.
Ten.
She wasn’t going to make it.
Another wolf came out of the parking lot, barreling toward her.
Zoe’s heart screeched to a halt, same as her feet.
Enormous, dark brown, moving fast. If he was part of this, if they had someone waiting, she was done. Completely and absolutely done—
He jumped. She shut her eyes, circling her head with her arms in a futile attempt at protection.
But no impact came.
There was a snarl, a crash, and... she dared to look.
It was a blur of movements so fast her eyes couldn’t track it—two wolves, hitting the ground hard enough to shake it, rolling, snapping. The smaller, grey wolf scrambled to his feet. The other one was already there waiting. Bigger. Darker. Angrier.
The fight lasted about four seconds. The grey wolf went down under the brown wolf’s strength and fury, yelped an ugly, startled sound, and then he was up and gone, limping away through the trees without looking back.
The wolf that remained shook itself once and ran toward her. Then shifted.
Owen hit the ground running, human again, and the look on his face... Owen, who she had never once seen angry, who smiledat everything, who called herZoand stole food off her plate, was pure fury.
Relief hit her so hard her knees went soft.
“How are you?” Owen growled, reaching her.
“I’m okay, I’m fine. But Rex...” She yanked the truck door open. “I need to get to him. I need to get to Rex.”
Owen’s hand blocked hers before she could reach for the key. “Rex said to keep you here. Safe.”
“No.”
“Zoe—”
“I’m going to him, Owen.” She turned and looked at him full-on, and felt something move through her. It wasn’t fear, nor adrenaline, but something deeper and, somehow, older. A certainty that didn’t leave room for argument. She held his gaze and said it again, feeling thatsomethingvibrating in her words. “Iwillgo to him.”
Owen flinched, nearly took a step back, his jaw tight, his hands clenching at his sides. “Damn it, Zoe,” he said, through his teeth.
“I’m sorry.” She did mean it. “But I can’t feel him. He closed the bond, and I can’t—” She stopped. Swallowed. Squared her shoulders. “I’m going.”
“The asshat cut me off, too.” For a heartbeat, he just looked at her. Then something in his expression shifted, and he nodded. “Get in the passenger seat,” he said. “I’ll drive.”
REX WAS LOSING.
Not a thought or speculation. No. He knew it as a fact in the body.
