Page 68 of Bad Blood Bear

He could see his words rip through Flynn, but he didn’t have any regret in him. Not now.

“She’s not your mate, either,” Flynn shot back. “You haven’t offered for her, and she hasn’t accepted. But she has accepted my protection, and that means I decide.”

Wild fury ripped through Tank, and he and his bear roared, “Mine!”

His grizzly ripped out of his skin, and he lunged toward Lissa, wanting to drag her off to his den, to protect her at all costs.

Flynn’s lion burst out, his roar shaking the trees. Blue fire crackled around his mane and his front paws, and his alpha energy pressed down on Tank.

But he would not roll over. He would not submit. Lissa was his.

He roared his defiance and lunged again. Flynn leaped at him, hitting Tank with his body and knocking him aside. The panther and the snow leopard were flanking Lissa now, snarling a warning.

“Tank!” Jasmin shouted, the only one still human. “We’re not the enemy. Brother Damien is the enemy!”

Tank scrambled to his feet. Brother Damien. The enemy. He’d claimed Lissa. Without him, she’d be his. He would defeat Brother Damien, and then he could come back and claim his mate.

With a roar of challenge, Tank turned and bounded into the woods, one single thought pounding in his head.

Brother Damien had to die.

Lissa woke with a dull headache and a mouth that tasted like someone had rubbed dried dung inside it. She was lying on a bed of straw, and she was naked.

Her first thought was: I’ve been captured.

Fear raced through her, rendering her breathless. She sat up and looked around, trying to calm herself. Lissa Ramsey does not panic. Lissa Ramsey does not panic.

Stop. Breathe. Think.

She was in a rough wooden shed, about ten by twelve. It must be morning—there was light coming through the narrow, barred windows at the top of the walls.

She crawled to her feet and tried the door. It didn’t budge—it must be bolted from the outside. There were people on the other side of it—she heard faint voices.

Lissa leaned against the door and listened. That was Sloan, talking to Xander. Relief surged through her, and then more fear. They’d locked her in the crazy shed. How long would she have to stay in here? Where was Tank? She couldn’t remember anything after they’d gone to bed last night, except that she’d dreamed about someone calling her.

Brother Damien.

She pounded on the door. “Tank? Where are you? Let me out!”

The voices cut off abruptly, and then she heard footsteps pounding towards the door. Farther away, Sloan yelled, “Flynn! She’s awake! She Changed back!”

She heard the metallic rasp of the key in the padlock, and then the door opened and Xander was standing there. She’d never thought she’d be this glad to see him.

“Hey,” she said. Her throat was raspy, and she was thirsty enough to fill up the giant bathtub in Tank’s bathroom and drink it dry.

“Hey,” Xander said. She could have sworn that an almost-smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “How are you?”

“Thirsty. Headachy. Naked.”

“Right.” He looked around, as if clothing was going to materialize out of thin air. Sloan came running up, carrying a big shirt, which he handed off to her. Lissa put it on gratefully.

“Where’s Tank?” she said, looking past them into the compound.

They exchanged looks, and she suddenly realized they both had assault rifles slung over their backs. Neither of them would meet her eyes.

Her relief turned back into fear. “Why do you have guns? What happened to Tank? Is he okay?”

Flynn appeared behind them. His face looked grim. “He went after Brother Damien last night. He hasn’t come back.”