“So what are you doing living in a shifter colony?” Cristian asked her.
Her face flushed as they looked her over. “I…I’m not sure. A woman found me on the shore just outside our colony in Wales. I was alone, and there were no signs of other wolves. So the woman took me to the colony. They decided to keep me, so I’ve been, sort of, adopted I guess.” She shrugged, wishing she had a better story. Or more answers.
Cristian contemplated this for a moment. “Strange. Well, if you’d like to be with your own kind, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”
She looked at Dalton. Did she have any reason to go home? He averted his gaze. Guess not. Her stomach dropped. It was hard to swallow.
Well, why not stay and get to know what being a werewolf was really like? Maybe she’d finally fit in somewhere.
“Do you have someone to go home to?” Cristian asked. Apparently he’d missed the display outside the cabin.
Dalton still didn’t look at her.
“No,” she answered. “I don’t.”
****
A protest fought to get free, but Dalton stamped it down and turned away from the hurt in Eden’s eyes. What was he doing? He was going to let her go? Maybe she was right – he was a chicken. But he didn’t have time for a relationship. He especially didn’t have the desire. Did he? A wife. A family.
No. A burden. He’d always be worrying, afraid for her. Especially with her shitty fighting skills and penchant for trouble. It wasn’t worth it. Then why did it hurt so bad to think of losing her? Leaving her here with these…strangers. She probably deserved to be with her kind. It’d be good for her. Fuck, it was hard to breathe.
Cristian nodded. “Think about it. And we’ll think about your proposition.” With a glance at the gray-haired man to the right, he said, “Get them set up in a cabin.” Then he addressed Eden again. “We’ll reconvene in the morning, yes?”
“Yes,” Dalton answered for her.
“Good. Matthias will take you to your accommodations and get you some food. If you need anything, let him know.” Cristian rose and shook both their hands. “You’ll have to excuse me. I hear my wife calling for me. She probably wants help putting the kids to bed.”
Eden smiled when he mentioned kids. Did she want children? Probably. And what kind of kids would a shifter and a werewolf make? Probably some freaky hybrid. It was dangerous to try. She’d find somebody here to mate with. She was desirable, and there were plenty of options. Maybe if he told himself that over and over, he would start to believe it.
Without a word to each other, Dalton and Eden followed Matthias to a small cabin in the back. The inside was sparse. A bed took up most of the room, and a dresser and a desk sat at each corner. There was a doorway to a bathroom on the right.
“I hope this is okay,” the older man said.
“It’s great,” Eden said with one of her charming smiles. “Thank you.”
He nodded then headed for the door. “I’ll have a hot meal brought in for you. It’s probably safer for you to stay in here for the night. Our people are a suspicious bunch.”
“I understand,” Dalton said.
When he left, she spun on Dalton and grinned. Excitement lit up in her eyes. “That went well, don’t you think? We’re alive. Nobody even threatened to kill us!”
So fucking cute. He smiled back. “You were great.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d been a little ballsy at times, and he’d tensed, waiting for an attack, but Cristian was a levelheaded leader, and Dalton was beginning to respect him. Eden had worked her magic, as he’d known she would. He couldn’t have been prouder.
“I think they’ll say yes.” She placed her bag on the bed and started unpacking. “Do you?”
It was still a long shot, and he could tell the wolves weren’t completely sold on their plan, but he supposed they had a chance. “Maybe.”
“I’m going to the bathroom. Be right back.”
He placed his bag on the bed next to hers then stared at the large mattress covered in a navy quilt. They’d have to share a bed. How was he going to do that without fucking her again? Such a responsive little body even her walk excited him. Gods, he had it bad. What was he going to do with her?
A bang came from the bathroom. What the hell was she doing in there?
The door burst open and Eden shuffled across the threshold into the room, a large man at her back and a knife against her throat. Fear was evident in her eyes. Her nostrils flared, and her lips moved as if pleading with him.
He froze, and he felt the blood rush from his face. Fuck. Panic shot through him. And then a growing rage. His gaze zeroed in on that knife. Light reflected on the edge. Someone dared fuck with what was his? He was going to rip his bloody head off.
“Walk out of the cabin and I won’t kill her,” the man rumbled.
Dalton eyed the door. Two more werewolves stood just outside the screen door, holding weapons and watching him. Seemed like Cristian had some betrayers in his pack. But what did they want with him?
He’d have to find out. He wasn’t going to risk Eden’s life by putting up a fight. “Okay,” he said calmly then put his hands up in a peaceful gesture and walked backward toward the door.
“No!” Eden yelled then yelped when the blade pressed into her skin.
“Shh,” Dalton told her. “I’ll be all right.” Just let her go. Please fucking let her go. “I’m going with your friends,” he told the man holding her. “Let her go.”
He nodded at the door. “Out. Then I’ll let your bitch live.”
Slowly, he opened the screen, and as soon as he did, the two men grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his back. Something clamped down on his upper arm, and he almost let out a shout of pain. It felt like he’d been stuck with hundreds of pins. Then the most terrifying thing happened. He felt his magic fade. Energy. Life. His ability to shift. It was all gone. He’d never felt so empty.
A hood went over his head, and he was forced away. Away from the best thing that had ever entered his life. Away from Eden.
Chapter Five
When Eden woke, it was to a nasty headache and her body hanging halfway off a mattress in an unfamiliar room. With a groan she lifted her head. What the hell? When she peered around the empty cabin, it all came back to her.
Dalton! He’d been taken. The werewolf holding her must’ve hit her in the head before he’d left. Shit. How long ago?
She ran out the door. It was still night, and Dalton’s scent lingered. Couldn’t have been that long ago. Without another thought, she shifted to her wolf form and hunted him. Nose to the ground, she followed his scent, thankful she was so familiar with it. Maybe having sex had paid off in more ways than one.
Careful not to lose the scent, she ran as fast as she could. After a mile, maybe two, she started feeling weary. She couldn’t keep this pace for much longer, especially with the pounding headache. Should she go back and get help? For all she knew, Cristian had orchestrated the whole thing. It was impossible to know who to trust. Was she tiring herself out for a lost cause? Was Dalton gone?
Panic kicked in along with a shot of adrenaline. She kept running. At the river, she heard voices. Slowing her pace, she listened carefully. She recognized one voice—the man who’d held the knife to her throat. And Dalton was there. His scent gave her hope. He was still alive.
The sound of the river made it hard to hear what they were saying. A deep voice said something about a reward. Were the werewolves trading him for a price?
Fuck. If they were trading him to sorcerers, they’d kill him. Or, worse, brainwash him like they’d done to others. She snuck closer, staying hidden in the shadow of the trees. Finally she spotted them. Dalton was slumped over, being held up by two werewolves. A hood covered his head. Why wasn’t he shifting? Had they drugged him?
Two men stood off to the side. Not werewolves. She inhaled the air. They smelled like home—like Wales. But they weren’t shifters. They must have been sorcerers. The man who’d grabbed
her spoke with them.
There was no way she could fight them all. She didn’t even know if she could fight one and win. They wouldn’t get out of this clusterfuck without Dalton being able to shift. What was wrong with him anyway?
Something glinted in the moonlight around his arm. A thick gold band. She’d seen something like it before. Someone had shown her a picture of one. Sorcerers used them to keep supernaturals weak and unable to use their magic.
If she could get that off of Dalton’s arm, he could shift and fight. She calculated their chances. Three werewolves, two sorcerers. The werewolves could rip her apart easily, but could they do it before she got the band off Dalton? She was pretty fast. The sorcerers were also a problem. They could produce balls of light that burned through flesh like radioactive light bulbs.
Steeling every bit of courage she had, she sprinted into the circle and leapt straight at Dalton. The two werewolves let go, and he toppled to the ground, with her on top of him. An idea came to mind. If she sounded like she was trying to hurt him, maybe they’d be confused enough not to kill her straight away.
Growling, she clamped the band between her teeth and pulled, hard. She winced at the pain she was causing him. Blood oozed down his arm as the device bent then finally snapped off. A moment later, he broke through his cuffs and yanked off his hood.
Fire exploded into her side, and she let out a painful howl. The smell of singed fur permeated the air. She stumbled, and her legs gave way under the pain. It felt like she’d been hit by lightning. An orange ball of light struck the ground next to her paw, and dirt exploded around her. She tried to scurry away from another blast that came from the other side.
Dalton tossed her a worried look then shoved her behind him. She fell over and couldn’t find the strength to get back up. Then Dalton disappeared. His human body exploded into a towering beast with thick brown fur and claws bigger than her head. He wasn’t just a bear—he was a grizzly. And fucking mad as hell.
Blood pooled under her body, comforting in its warmth. The world started to go black. She didn’t have the energy to panic. All she could see before her vision went completely was Dalton flinging body parts in the air. She hoped she’d wake, if only to see him one last time.
Chapter Six
Protect. Protect what’s mine.
Dalton’s mind blanked except for the chant repeating in his head and the powerful urge to kill. Which he did. Over and over.
When the bodies piled up and nothing had moved for several minutes, he shifted back to human form and ran to Eden. Her body had shifted, too.
A nasty burn covered most of her ribs on one side. Blood made a sticky puddle under her body.
“Shit,” he mumbled.
The wounds weren’t fatal, especially not to a werewolf. Even so, a lump lodged in his throat. What the hell was she doing here?
Gently he lifted her into his arms. It was a long walk back to Cristian’s camp—plenty of time to worry a horrible knot in his chest. He hoped the betrayers weren’t friends of Christian. Dalton was normally a good judge of character, and Cristian had passed his scans earlier, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt.
A woman and two men approached as he walked between two cabins and into the circle, bloody and naked.
“Rafe!” someone yelled.
“Medical is over there.” A woman pointed toward a cabin on the far left.
As he headed there, a dark man flew out of the cabin and to Dalton’s side. “What happened?” He started to look Eden over, and Dalton figured he was the camp doctor.
“Sorcerer’s Bolt,” he answered.
“Inside.” He held open the door to the medical building, and Dalton stepped inside. “First room on the right.”
A bed occupied the room, along with a cabinet, sink, and medical equipment he didn’t recognize. Dalton laid her on the bed carefully. It was hard to let her go. That she hadn’t woken didn’t seem like a good sign.
“I’m Rafe,” the man said. “I’m a doctor. I’ll take care of her.”
Dalton nodded and stepped back but watched his every move and stayed as close to her as he could without being in the way.
The door to the medical cabin slammed shut. Cristian walked into the room. “What happened?”
“Someone in your pack decided to trade me to the sorcerers for money,” he grated out.
Cristian shook his head. “No one in my pack would do that.”
“They were werewolves.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. The sorcerers have many rogues working for them. They could’ve been hunting you before you even got here.”
He didn’t sense a lie. Still he remained guarded. “Doesn’t matter. They’re dead.”
“What happened to her?” He nodded toward the unconscious girl on the bed.
His girl. She looked pale and so small. His throat closed up. “Fucking sorcerers.”
Rafe worked on bandaging her side. “Her vitals are fine. She just lost a lot of blood. She’ll regenerate soon. I’ll put an IV in with fluid. I’m betting she’ll be up in a few hours.” At Dalton’s worried expression, he added, “Werewolves are tough. Even the small ones.” He smiled.
Cristian put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened.”
Dalton nodded. He seemed sincere. And Rafe was being gentle with Eden. He couldn’t blame the pack for this.
“Did they take you both?” Cristian asked.
“No.” He kept his eyes on Eden as Rafe pressed a needle into her limp arm. “She found me.” She’d risked her life to save his. He’d never seen courage like that. A tiny thing with almost no fighting skill had hunted down a group of mercenary werewolves and two sorcerers. She’d taken a Bolt for him. Her quick thinking and courage had saved them both.
“How’d you get away?” Cristian asked.
“She’s a smart girl.” He realized the truth as he said it. “Instead of trying to fight them, she ripped off the cuff that kept me from shifting.” Other women might’ve tried to play hero and taken on the enemies by themselves. She knew she’d have gotten them both killed that way, so she’d gone for the safer bet.
“Looks like she saved your life,” Rafe said.
He wanted to hold her, stroke her hair, kiss her from head to toe.
Rafe walked to Dalton, his gaze set on his arm. He looked at it, too, seeing it from the doctor’s point of view. It was pretty torn up.
“You need medical care,” Rafe said.
Dalton started to shake his head.
“You’ll be of no help to her if you’re not in good condition.”
He had a point. With a sigh, he sat on the end of Eden’s bed, careful not to touch her.
Cristian took a cell phone out of his pocket. “Where are the bodies? I’ll have them cleaned up.”
Dalton answered as Rafe cleaned his wound. He barely felt the pain. A numb haze had settled over him since he’d brought Eden here. Though he knew she was safe, and she’d heal, he was still filled with fear. He was only able to ignore the fear because he’d had so much training turning it off.
When he’d been cleaned and bandaged, Rafe pointed toward the hallway. “It’s best if you get some rest. There’s an empty bed in the room across the hall.”
“No.” His tone didn’t invite argument.
Rafe nodded. “Well, tell me when she wakes, and I’ll check her for a concussion.”
A wave of exhaustion hit him when Rafe left the room. He looked at Eden. At least she seemed at peace. The doctor had wiped the blood from the uninjured parts of her body. She was still naked under the sheet, which made him feel a sense of possessiveness. When she woke, they’d be putting clothing on her straight away. For now, he’d leave her be.
Feeling dizzy, he looked for somewhere in the room to lie down. The only option was the bed. She was so small she took up less than half of it.
Ever so gently, he scooted up the bed and stretched his long body out next to hers. He laid his head on the pillow and st
ared at her delicate face. Tiny ears, long lashes, pink lips… She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, even injured and unconscious. Carefully, he laid his arm across her chest, avoiding the bandaged injury, and then he buried his face in her neck. Even with all the ointments and medicine, she still smelled like her. Like perfection. Like his woman.
****
Eden woke to an achy body and someone snoring in her ear. She cracked open her eyes to see a head full of black hair under her chin. A familiar scent surrounded her.
Dalton. She smiled. Her neck was currently his pillow, and his arm draped across her chest as if he were protecting her from some invisible threat. She looked around the room. They were in a hospital of some sort. Medical equipment filled the sterile-smelling room. Where had he taken her? Back to Cristian’s camp? Under the scent of Dalton and medicine, the scent of werewolf lingered.
Her body felt stiff, and lying on her back was getting uncomfortable. She shifted a bit, trying not to jostle Dalton. His soft snores sounded so peaceful. And that he’d practically wrapped himself around her made tears form in her eyes. Maybe he’d rejected her on a surface level, but deep down inside, she was his.
Dalton stirred. Wincing, she turned to her side to face him. He lifted his head. Upon seeing her grinning at him, he jumped up.
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
She chuckled then groaned when a sharp pain stabbed her ribs. “No. I’m okay.”
He started at her, seeming conflicted about whether to believe her.
“Lie back down,” she said. “Please?”
She must’ve sounded pitiful enough because he did. Faces only inches apart, they gazed at each other. She couldn’t stop smiling. After being hit by the Bolt, she’d thought she might never see him again. Not only was he right in front of her, but he also looked healthy. And she was feeling better by the minute.
Unable to stop herself, she smoothed her hand over his hair then giggled. “You have bed head.”
He scowled. “You’re one to talk.” Then his scowl turned to a grin. “You should’ve seen your hair the day I first met you.”
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