Captivated by the Cougar

by Rayna Tyler

  The ground was hard, and some rocks and twigs bit into my ass. My leg throbbed as if the flesh had been seared with a heated fireplace poker. I was thankful to be alive and might not be if Preston hadn’t shown up and rescued me. The only way he could have arrived in time to keep the shooter from finding me was if he’d already been in the area, which meant he must have followed me.

  My emotions were bouncing all over the place, starting with frustration, jumping to anger, and ending with relief. Part of me wanted to inflict pain on whoever had fired the shot. Part of me wanted to throttle Preston for following me without my knowledge, and another part of me wanted to toss him on the ground and show him how thankful I was that he’d saved my life.

  My trust issues weren’t going to resolve themselves overnight, but if I used logic and put things into the correct perspective, Preston was doing the job he’d been hired for—protecting my family and me. He’d also scored points when he’d risked getting his hand chewed up by my injured wolf in order to help me.

  While I quietly listened to his conversation with Bryson, I snuggled deeper into Preston’s jacket, finding comfort in his scent. He’d said my wound didn’t look bad, but his furrowed brow and worried gaze made me wonder if he believed what he was telling me. With my wolf’s enhanced abilities, the wound should have already started healing. I’d known something wasn’t right even before he’d tied his shirt around my thigh to stop the bleeding.

  Preston ended his conversation with Bryson by snapping the radio on his belt, then held out his hand. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

  Standing wasn’t easy. My good leg wobbled, and pain shot through my injured leg the second I put pressure on it. To compound the issue, the temperature was gradually dropping and I was shivering. My fur-covered animal might be able to handle the cold, but my human, still mostly naked form couldn’t.

  Preston assisted with both my concerns by keeping a solid grip on my waist to steady me while he helped me slip on his jacket. Because he was taller and broader, I had to push up the sleeves, but luckily, the length brushed the top of my thigh so my backside was covered.

  I clutched his arm for support, wondering how long it would take before the cold began to bother Preston’s bare chest. Not that I didn’t appreciate the view of his tight abs. I did, a lot. I felt guilty that he’d sacrificed his jacket and his shirt to keep me warm.

  “Wrap your arms around my neck. I’m going to carry you,” he instructed.

  “It’s too far back to the lodge, and I’m too heavy,” I argued.

  “Darlin’, I’d carry you for miles if I had to.” He offered me a lopsided grin, a contradiction to his serious tone. “But we’re not going to the lodge.”

  “We’re not?” I narrowed my eyes trying to determine how he planned to get to Mitch Jacobsen’s place without a vehicle. Then it dawned on me that he hadn't asked Bryson to send someone to pick us up either. It would have been a lot easier since we were close to the access road leading to the falls.

  “No. I used the old trail that cuts across the property, and there’s a jeep parked not far from here.” He grazed my cheek and tucked some strands behind my ear. “You can yell at me all you want about following you later. Right now, I want to get you to the doc’s so he can take a look at your leg.”

  It was hard to argue with him when his motivations were thoughtful and caring. “Okay.” I hooked my arm across his shoulder.

  “I’ll try to be careful.” I ignored the pain in my leg when he gently scooped me into his arms, adjusting his grip to avoid touching my injury.

  “I know you will...thanks.” I rested my head on his shoulder, unsure if being light-headed was a result of too much stress or losing blood. Being tucked up close to him was fine by me and it was making my wolf all kinds of happy.

  Though Preston’s pace was hurried, I barely felt the vibration from his steps as he padded along the uneven ground and traipsed through underbrush. This was one of those times when I appreciated the benefits that came along with being part animal—the agility we inherited when in our human form.

  When we reached the jeep, he gently placed me on the seat and fastened my belt. He took one look at the patches of crimson that had appeared on the fabric tied around my leg and rushed around to the driver’s side. All the company vehicles had a stash of extra clothes, along with other emergency supplies tucked behind the seat. Preston quickly tugged on a T-shirt and started the engine.

  I didn’t need the strained silence or seeing his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel to know Preston was struggling to keep his cat under control. His animal’s anxiety pulsed through the cab, an intensity that called to my wolf and had her whimpering.

  I wanted to soothe him and placed my hand on his thigh. “Is there a reason you’re taking me to a human vet instead of going to the hospital?” I posed the question hoping to distract him, not to actually gain an explanation.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about being taken to someone’s private home to have my wound looked after, but I trusted Preston’s judgment. He wouldn’t do anything to put my life at risk. If he didn’t think Mitch was capable of handling the situation, he wouldn’t hesitate to drive the extra distance to the hospital in Hanford where they were staffed with doctors who treated shifters.

  I needed some soothing of my own and was grateful when he placed his hand over mine.

  “He knows about our kind and I can count on him to be discreet. I don’t want anyone to know about what happened, not until we know what we’re dealing with.” It sounded as if Preston’s conclusion about the shooter was similar to mine.

  “I didn’t recognize the shooter’s scent, did you? Do you think Eli was somehow involved?” I’d met Al a few times but never his grandson. He was a nice old man and would be upset if he learned Eli had anything to do with this.

  “No to both questions.” He eased off the gas pedal, slowing the vehicle to make a right-hand turn onto a graveled private drive leading to Mitch’s home.

  I was relieved to hear Preston didn’t think Eli was involved. “Do you think it was someone hired by Desmond Bishop?” It had been months since the man had vanished without a trace. With Preston’s background in security, along with all Reese’s connections, some acquired in the military, they’d know immediately if Bishop had resurfaced.

  “Not sure. We haven’t received any word that he’s resurfaced. Until we find out if the shooting was random or if you were the target, you won’t be going for a run unless I’m with you.” He glanced at me for a second before concentrating on the winding road.

  If he was expecting an argument, he wasn’t going to get one. I wasn’t stupid. I knew how lucky I was that he’d shown up when he did.

  “I am going to find the person responsible, I promise.”

  “Then we’ll find the person together.”

  “No, I don’t want you involved. I’m not taking any chances with your life. I don’t want to...” His voice cracked with strain, and his grip on my hand tightened.

  “I don’t want to lose you either.” I emphasized how much I cared by squeezing his leg, then continued before he could argue any further. “Look, I grew up with an extremely dominant brother and I understand your need to protect me, but being my mate means being partners. We do things together or we don’t do them at all.” The meaning behind my words were clear. I wouldn’t agree to bind my life to his if he couldn’t respect me enough to treat me as an equal in all things.

  Preston stopped the jeep in front of a two-story wooden home, then turned in his seat to face me. “Berkley, when I heard your wolf...in so much pain...I thought I’d lost you.” He slid his hand along my nape and pressed his forehead against mine. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again. Do you suppose you could give my cat and me some room to be overprotective for a little while?”

  “I can do that.” It wasn’t an admission of love, but it was darned close. Living with an alpha wasn’t always going to be easy, things worthwhile rare
ly were, and I could accept him trying to meet me halfway.

  “Good, then let’s get you inside and have Mitch take a look at your leg.”

  I glanced through Preston’s window, noting that Mitch had opened his front door and was walking down the steps. I didn’t know a lot about the vet other than he lived alone, was in his early thirties, and had resided in the area for almost two years. I’d met him once during the summer after Bear had crossed paths with an angry porcupine and ended up the loser.

  I’d gone with Mandy when she took the silly dog to Mitch’s office in Ashbury to have the quills removed from his snout. Needless to say, Bear got kudos on his bravery and extra snacks under the table from Nick for an entire week after the incident. Not that my brother loved the dog or anything.

  “Stay here,” Preston ordered, then opened his door and hurried around to my side of the jeep. He reached behind the seat and retrieved a blanket, which he used to wrap around my waist and cover my legs before carefully pulling me into his arms.

  “Hey, Doc, sorry about ruining your day off.” I gave Mitch an apologetic smile, then draped one arm over Preston’s shoulder and clutched the blanket to my chest with the other. Being naked in front of other shifters didn’t bother me. It was a part of our life, and even my brothers had seen me naked more than once.

  Preston’s concern for my modesty was touching and understandable. Being in protective mode was normal for mates. In his case, and under the circumstances, not having claimed me yet intensified his need to keep me away from other males. His human side acknowledged that Mitch was going to help me, but his cat was motivated by animalistic urges and would view the vet as competition.

  “Don’t worry about it. Glad I could help.” He stepped to the side and held the door open so Preston could carry me inside. “Bring her in here.” He led us through a moderately furnished living room, then down a hallway to a small bedroom that had been remodeled into an examination room.

  After Preston set me in the middle of a long, waist-high table, I glanced around the room. “This is a nice setup.” Other than some additional storage cabinets, the room had a similar layout and contained the same equipment and supplies I’d seen in the office where Mitch worked in Ashbury. “I thought you did all your business in town.”

  “I do, but you’d be surprised how many emergencies occur on the weekend with the residents who live in the outlying areas. A lot of folks would rather come here than make the long drive into the city.” He chuckled and glanced at Preston, who was hovering next to me on the opposite side of the table. “At least you called first. Most of my clients just show up on my doorstep at all hours.”

  Mitch pulled a pair of latex gloves out of a box on the counter, then slipped one on each hand. “Bryson said you got shot. Mind if I...” He motioned toward the blanket.

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  Mitch peeled back the fabric, exposing most of my bare leg and thigh. “Did you catch the shooter?”

  “Not yet,” Preston said.

  “Do you think it was a poacher, or someone targeting shifters?”

  Mitch’s concerns mirrored my own. Having someone hunting illegally endangered the safety of all the families living in the area, humans and shifters alike.

  “We don’t know yet.” Preston swept his hand through his hair. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone until we have a chance to find out what’s going on.”

  “Not a problem. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

  “We will...and thanks for doing this,” Preston said, wrapping an arm protectively around my waist and holding one of my hands.

  Mitch undid the knot on the shirt Preston had tied around my thigh. Some of the blood underneath had dried and stuck to my skin. When he peeled back the fabric, it tugged on the wound. I squeezed Preston’s hand hard, clamping my teeth together and hissing through the pain radiating down my leg. A menacing growl rumbled from his chest, a protective warning aimed at Mitch.

  “Whoa.” Mitch eased back a step, slowly releasing the shirt and raising his hands in a defensive manner. “I didn’t know she was your mate.” He gave me a look that was apologetic and pleading at the same time. Apparently, Mitch knew more about shifters than I realized.

  Preston’s reaction wasn’t helping the situation. I flicked him in the arm to get his attention, then used the most admonishing tone I could muster, which wasn’t much because his protectiveness was making my stomach flutter. “If you want him to take care of me, then you need to stop snarling. Otherwise, you can wait in the living room.”

  “I’m not leaving.” Preston pursed his lips and frowned, then addressed Mitch. “Sorry, Doc. I... Will you please help my mate?”

  “Sure,” Mitch said, trying hard not to smile as he leaned closer to examine my wound.

  “Shouldn’t it have started healing by now?” I was concerned by the swelling and the amount of red surrounding the injury that wasn’t blood.

  “Yes.” Mitch walked over to one of the cabinets and withdrew a small vial of clear liquid and a swab. After applying a few drops to the cotton tip, he rolled it across a small patch of my skin.

  I stared at the horrible shade of green emerging on the tip. “Is it supposed to turn that color?”

  Mitch shook his head. “I’ve only seen this a few times before and had hoped I was wrong.”

  “Wrong about what?” Preston asked, tension rippling along the arm pressed against my back.

  “The bullet was laced with a poison specifically designed to counteract a shifter’s healing abilities.”

  “Poison... I’ve been poisoned?” I’d never heard of such a thing before and didn’t have to see myself in a mirror to know my face had paled.

  “Please tell me you have an antidote.” Preston was growling again.

  “There is, but you won’t need it.” Mitch opened a different cabinet and pulled out a box of antiseptic towelettes, a tube which I assumed was a topical ointment, some gauze, and a roll of medical tape. He placed the items on the table next to my leg. “The substance reacts fairly quickly, and if enough of it gets into the system, it can be fatal. It’s a good thing the bullet only grazed the skin and you got her here when you did.”

  I gazed up at Preston. “If you hadn’t...” I swallowed hard, unable to finish.

  “Don’t go there, sweetness.” He placed a kiss on top of my head.

  I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against Preston’s chest. I stayed that way, inhaling his scent and taking comfort from his nearness. When I finally opened my eyes, Mitch had finished cleaning my wound and was wrapping it with gauze.

  “You might feel lightheaded and experience some nausea for the next day or so.” He tore several strips of tape from the roll and secured the gauze. “I’d recommend a day of rest and keeping weight off your leg at least through tomorrow.”

  I sat up straight, not enthused with the idea of spending an entire day on my back. “But what about work? I can’t...” My words were cut short by a loud bang coming from the other end of the house.

  PRESTON

  I needed to claim Berkley, to make the bond between us permanent, and soon. I wasn’t happy about another male touching my mate, even if the male was Mitch and he was trying to help her. Logic was on my side, but only by a minuscule amount. My cat, not so much.

  He was motivated by instinct, the need to protect his injured mate. I’d been proud of the control I’d exerted over my animal so far and hadn’t realized I’d lost the battle until Berkley flicked me for growling and threatened to force me from the room. I’d be damned if I’d leave her side, but now was not the time to push her, not when she struggled with pain and needed me to be strong for her.

  Learning about the poison, hearing how close I’d actually come to losing her, seeing the terror in her beautiful eyes, had pushed me closer to the edge. The whole time Mitch tended Berkley’s wound, I inhaled her scent and gently stroked her back.

  I was waiting for Berkley
to finish arguing with Mitch about insisting she remain in bed for a day. I’d planned to give the doc my support, to assure him that I’d personally make sure she followed his instructions, when a loud bang on the other side of the house startled all of us. It was quickly followed by Reese bellowing Berkley’s name.

  It seemed that showing good manners and knocking before entering someone’s home didn’t apply when his friend’s baby sister was hurt. I certainly didn’t have a problem with it since I would have done the same thing if it had been my sister, even more so if it was Berkley.

  “She’s back here,” Mitch shouted with a calm voice, seemingly unaffected by the intrusion and earning another degree of my respect.

  The sound of loud, hurried footsteps filled the hallway. Berkley cringed, dropped her shoulders, and sighed. She glanced at me, then focused her attention on Nick, Reese, and Bryson as they burst one by one through the doorway. All three of them appeared as if they were ready to shred something, or someone.

  Berkley met Reese’s concerned glare, her back stiffening beneath my touch. I wasn’t sure if her reaction was because she might be under the impression that her brother was unaware of our mate status, or if being surrounded by four large, equally dominant males was making her claustrophobic.

  “You okay, sis?” Nick circled to the other side of the table without waiting for an answer. He wasn’t normally an affectionate person to anyone other than his mate, but the hug he gave Berkley expressed how much he cared for his baby sister.

  “Fine... Choking here,” she gasped, patting Nick’s back until he released her.

  “Thank you,” Reese said, clapping a hand on my shoulder, then moving into the spot next to Nick.

  I nodded, as no verbal response was required. Reese already knew I’d risk my life to protect Berkley.

  Bryson, who remained hovering near the door like a sentry, crossed his arms and grunted in Berkley’s direction.