by Jess Bryant
“You’re not fighting it because of the heat!” Michael yelled right back at her.
Rafe growled again. He didn’t like the idea of anyone raising their voice at his mate. His wolf was on a very short leash and he was about to gnaw through the last strands of it. He was trying to give them a second, to let them sort this out, mostly to keep from getting himself shot, but he wouldn’t tolerate Michael yelling at her.
“I’m not fighting it because there’s nothing to fight. This is fate. This is what we’ve been waiting for since the day I turned eighteen.” Her lips trembled and her eyes watered, “It just happened with the wrong wolf.”
Rafe really didn’t like that. He didn’t like that his mate looked close to tears. He didn’t like that she was hurting. He really didn’t like that she’d called him the wrong wolf. Did that make Michael the right one?
“Zoey?”
She sucked in a breath of air when he said her name for the first time and her eyes jerked back to his. Her eyes were the most beautiful mix of blue and green that he’d ever seen. He wanted to drown in them but not because there were tears there.
“Zoey, come here, come to me.”
Michael growled and broke the moment when he stepped between them again, “Zoey, stop. Don’t do this.”
“You’ll have to grab me again to stop me and I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She started to step around Michael again and Rafe thought, for just a second, that his smart, logical brother was going to do the right thing and let her go. He thought that Michael had realized he was fighting a losing battle. Whether he loved the girl or not, she wasn’t his and rules were rules. Rafe had been the one that hated the rules, had bent them until they almost broke, but Michael had always played by them. Knowing that, he was shocked when he watched his brother anchor a hand around her wrist and jerk her to a stop once again.
“Michael! No!” She yelped.
Rafe growled, his feet moving before he’d consciously decided that he was done waiting and watching. His fist connected with the Sherriff’s gut, doubling him over, and he moved easily around him. He had a momentary flash of his mate’s eyes going wide but he jerked his attention off of her and put the full brunt of his weight behind it when he swung at Michael this time. He connected with his brother’s jaw, snapping his head around, but he didn’t wait to see if Michael regained his balance for an attack.
He swept his mate into his arms in one easy move and headed up the hill. A sense of rightness immediately settled over him, calming the worst of his anger. She was his and she was here, in his arms. He could keep her safe now. He would claim her and then the terrible wave of jealousy he was feeling would ease and they could talk about all of this rationally tomorrow. After he’d mated her so that they were tied together forever.
“Rafe!”
He smiled when she yelled his name this time. Yes, that sounded better. That sounded right. It was his name that should always be on her lips. Only his.
“Rafe, wait!”
“Can’t. Done waiting.” He started to shift her into a more comfortable position to run when he felt the sting in his back. “Dammit no!”
The pain radiated out as if he’d been stung by a thousand bees all at once. He took one more step. Two. His legs felt weak and the world shifted on its axis. He had the forethought to understand his body was failing, that he was going to fall, and he held his fragile, breakable mate to his chest, trying to shield her and protect her.
His knees hit the ground first and he winced at the jarring collision, “They can’t take you from me. You. Are. Mine.”
His mate opened her mouth to respond but only a shriek came out because his back gave and he slumped forward. He tried to shield her from the enormity of his body weight but it was no use. He landed on top of her as gently as he could considering he could barely move his limbs. There was a strange sense of accomplishment having her pinned beneath him and his heart thumped at the closeness, at the fact that their skin was touching, that their scents were mixing, even as his body failed and his vision wavered.
“What’s wrong? Oh God, what’s happening?”
He used the last of his strength to brush her hair back off her face. Pretty. So pretty. She reminded him of the girl from that story, the one with the big, bad wolf. He smiled at the thought, tried to file it away to tell her later, certain she would laugh because he was exactly that.
“Why are you smiling?” She tried to wiggle beneath him but it was useless, she wasn’t getting free of him that easily, “Oh, hell, you’re as crazy as he said you were aren’t you?”
“Not crazy.” He dropped his head, his heavy head, against the curve of her neck and breathed in her sweet, distinctive scent, “Yours. I’m yours.”
“Lucky me.”
He thought he sensed sarcasm in her tone and smiled again. Feisty. His mate was feisty. She’d argued with her Pack Alpha, gone toe-to-toe, and she’d won. She would handle him too, he had no doubt. They were going to be a good pair.
“Mine.”
She snorted, ‘”Yeah, you mentioned that.”
Her soft hand brushed his hair back off his forehead and he closed his eyes and enjoyed the touch. He couldn’t open them again. Darkness closed in all around him. He was going under. He knew the feeling. It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot after all. Luckily, it wasn’t a bullet this time. His only regret was that he hadn’t been able to get her away, get her somewhere safe, because when he was unconscious, he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
“Rafe?” Her voice, sweet with concern for him again.
“I’ll find you.” He mumbled the promise, unsure if his words even made sense through the fog of the drugs in his system. “They can’t keep me from you. I’ll find you.”
The world shifted away and the warmth of the drugs lulled him into sleep. He hated sleep. He only ever dreamed in nightmares. Flashes of pain and agony, destruction and loneliness. But this time was different, because he had his mate in his arms, underneath him, her body pressed to his, her scent in his nose. And just before he went under completely he thought he heard her say something that would have made him smile again, if only he were coherent.
“You won’t have to. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 6
Zoey was trapped under two hundred plus pounds of pure, unadulterated werewolf. She should have been screaming her head off. She should have been struggling to get away from him. She should have been fighting it but she’d already figured out that fighting was impossible.
Her senses had betrayed her and her body wasn’t far behind.
She reveled in the smell of him. Man and musk, pine and dirt. She ached at the feel of him. Hard muscles and coiled strength. And she wanted more of it, wanted all of it, now. Some voice deep inside of her was whispering that he was hers and she could, and should, do whatever she damn well pleased to him, conscious or not.
She whimpered when the still slightly rational part of her brain forced her to squirm, trying to free herself, but in effect all it did was rub her body against his and make pinwheels of desire swirl in her blood. She should have been trying to get away. Instead, it was all she could do not to wrap her legs around his waist and rock herself against him. She gave in to the urge to wrap her arms around him, to hold him close to her, cradle him and try to offer some semblance of comfort, even as her head screamed at her that this was wrong, all wrong.
These weren’t her feelings. They couldn’t be. This was the heat. It was the mating bond taking over and wresting control from her.
This was Rafe. Michael’s brother. A man she hadn’t seen in years. A wolf that, last she’d heard, was still completely unbalanced from the horrors he’d faced when he watched most of his family murdered in front of him.
Had she cared about him before, when she was just a girl? Maybe. Probably. But in all honesty, she didn’t remember. He hadn’t been a part of her life, not really. She had vague memories of Gabe teasing her good-na
turedly about her crush on his little brother. Remembered Rafe teasing Michael not so good-naturedly about it.
Had he known back then? Impossible. She’d been too young. But was it possible that he’d felt… something? Just as Michael had felt something for her all of these years that he hadn’t been able to explain, something that told him to protect her like she was family, because one day, she would be?
Michael.
Her senses came jolting back to her. Not even the magical heat that drew her to Rafe could mask the conflicting emotions she was feeling when it came to her best friend now. Confusion, frustration and more than a little bit of anger. They weren’t new emotions where he was concerned but they were all amplified now to a level she couldn’t possibly ignore or swallow down like she’d been doing for years.
“Michael!”
“I’m coming Zo! I’m coming!” He staggered into her view, rubbing a jaw that was already turning an array of colors as his impressive genetics fought to heal him, “Are you okay?”
“Never been better.”
“Yeah, I know. Stupid question.” He winced and shot a look over his shoulder, “Wiley, help me get him off her.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from hissing at him when he grabbed Rafe by the shoulder and started to haul him up. She couldn’t force her hands to let go of him until Michael frowned, looked between them and uttered a growl of his own. She swallowed a whine and let her friend and the Sheriff roll her unconscious mate off of her.
Her mate. She was Rafe’s mate. He was hers.
She could feel the truth in the statement. She’d felt it even before she’d known what was going on. That urge to go to him, to be with him, the immediate and intense attraction she’d felt, they’d all been signs. She’d heard the mated females in the pack talk about the bond, about the heat, she just hadn’t expected it to be so instantaneous or so complete.
She hadn’t expected Rafe.
If it had been Michael, she would have known how to handle it. She would have known what to do. She would have leaped into his arms and never looked back. Her head and her heart and the heat would all have been in perfect, blissful harmony and everything would have been right in the world. She wouldn’t have second-guessed herself for even a minute.
But it wasn’t Michael. It had never been Michael. It was never going to be Michael.
Hadn’t she been trying to get that through her thick skull earlier tonight?
She’d come outside to get some fresh air, to get some space from him, but he’d followed her. He’d touched her and talked to her and she’d started to think that he was coming around to the idea of them being together, even though she knew better. Even though she knew that she wasn’t his mate. Even though she knew that he knew that.
Looking back on it, the moment felt as if it had happened a lifetime ago. It was a faded, foggy memory already. Indistinct. Important only because it had been the last one she’d had with Michael before her entire world shifted, until it realigned, and he was no longer the center of it.
Rafe was.
The others rolled him to his side and she sucked in a breath of air now that she wasn’t being smothered. She missed him. Instantly. Missed his weight and the heat of his body, and she reached for him before she’d made a conscious decision to move.
She rolled up to sitting, ignored the hand Michael offered her, and felt for a pulse in Rafe’s neck. It was there. Slow. Far too slow for a shifter. His chest was rising and falling softly but he didn’t so much as twitch when she swiped his hair off his forehead and trailed her hand across his cheek. The jolt of electricity that flowed through her when they touched skin-to-skin was powerful but he didn’t react at all.
She frowned, “Something’s wrong with him.”
“There’s a lot of things wrong with him.”
She hissed in a breath at Michael’s grumble and spun to face him. He was standing at her feet, close enough to touch, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she didn’t feel the urge to reach out for him. Considering the anger she felt rising inside of her, that didn’t surprise her. What surprised her was the urge to lash out at him, to put herself between him and his brother, and not to protect Michael but to protect Rafe.
“What happened? What did you do to him? If you hurt him in any way, I will…”
“You will what? You’re going to threaten me now too?” Michael scoffed, “I was trying to protect you Zo!”
“What did you do?” She heard her voice rise an entire octave about the same time she saw Michael’s eyes widen in shock and horror.
She’d never yelled at him before. Ever. She’d been angry with him plenty of times. They’d been friends too long for them not to argue, not to fight, but she’d never screamed at him. She’d never even wanted to. Until now.
“Easy there…” Wiley stepped between the two of them, holding his hands out in her direction as if she might go into full-attack mode, “He didn’t do anything. Calm down Zoey.”
She turned her anger on the older man, “Tell me what’s wrong with Rafe!”
“Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s just sleeping off the drugs.”
“The drugs?”
“Yeah.” Wiley shrugged, “I tranqued him.”
She sucked in a shocked gulp of air and then winced and stared down at her hands. She’d curled her hands into fists so hard that her nails were cutting into her skin. She consciously uncurled her fingers and fought off the urge to swing her fist at the Sheriff’s head.
“You did what?” She hissed through her teeth.
“Tranqued him.”
“Why would you do that?” She struggled between keeping her eyes on the men that had already hurt her mate and turning her full attention back on Rafe to check that he was still breathing.
“Because I told him to.” Michael spoke up.
Vaguely, she remembered his words from earlier, when they’d been facing off and she hadn’t even known what was happening. Michael had told the Sheriff that if Rafe went anywhere near her to take him down. She remembered thinking that the Sheriff didn’t stand a chance of taking Rafe in a fight. She hadn’t realized they weren’t planning to fight fair.
“Why?”
“Why?” Michael growled, his face twisting into a menacing scowl, “Why? The fact that you’re even asking me is proof that you’re not thinking clearly.”
She wasn’t thinking clearly. She knew that. Every single thought she had was being processed through a new filter. Rafe.
How did it affect Rafe? How did she get to Rafe? How did she protect Rafe? How did she get Rafe back? And how long would it be until she could have his skin against hers again, his body pressing into hers and sealing the bond once and for all?
“Jesus, Zoey! You’re not even listening to me.”
She snapped back to attention and felt a blush steal over her cheeks when Michael frowned at her. He knew where her thoughts had gone. It was clear from the disapproval on his face that he knew exactly what she had been thinking. Even still, she couldn’t shut it off.
There was an invisible link between her and Rafe now and it was only getting stronger. Attraction had flickered to life as soon as she saw him, but it was more than that. She’d fought to get to him, felt the urge to be closer to him, and her body had responded to him fighting for her too. Then he’d grabbed her, touched her for the first time, and it was like a piece of herself that she’d never known was missing fell into place.
She glanced back at Michael and her heart squeezed too tight in her chest. It hurt, but not in the way it had for four years. She stared at his handsome face, but objectively, for possibly the first time ever. He was good-looking, too good-looking really, but her heart didn’t skitter and race at the mere sight of him now.
Her attraction to him was gone. Her mind whirled as she tried to figure out how that was possible. He was just as handsome as he had been a half hour ago. He was still her best friend.
She still loved him, th
at hadn’t gone anywhere. Love like that didn’t just disappear. But it was different now, looking at him and knowing that he had been right before, when he’d said that being together would have felt wrong because they didn’t belong together.
She hadn’t understood it at the time. She hadn’t understood it today. Not until the moment her eyes had met Rafe’s and she’d felt the beginning of that bond take root somewhere deep inside her, could she have ever understood the difference in loving someone and being mated.
She didn’t love Rafe. She wasn’t delusional enough to believe a magical bond could make that happen instantaneously. She did believe that it was possible for her to fall in love with him though, because otherwise, what was the point? The bond was only the beginning, not the end goal like she’d always thought it was.
This was just the beginning for them.
Chapter 7
“Zoey!”
“What?” She snapped when Michael growled her name again.
“I said you need to back off him. Wiley’s going to take him down to the station and lock him up so he can’t hurt you or anyone else until we get all of this figured out.”
She gaped at him, “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious.”
“There are so many things wrong with what you just said I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’m Alpha of this pack, Zoey. You can question me. You can disagree with me all you want, but it’s my decision to make and I’ve already made it. He’s getting locked up for the night.”
She’d never seen Michael like this and she found herself staring. She thought she knew every side of him. She’d been his best friend since she was ten years old. But she’d never seen him take a stand and be wrong and that was what he was doing.
He was wrong. Maybe for the first time ever. Michael was wrong about all of it. He was Pack Alpha because Rafe had left. He ruled over the pack but he wasn’t a dictator. And he had no right to interrupt or stop them from sealing the mate bond.