Soul Bonded

chapter TWENTY-SEVEN



As soon as Rafe was out of her sight, panic set in. The noise level outside exploded as shouts, snarling, and cruel taunts filled the air and set Katie’s heart racing. Shilah trotted to her side, a line of fur raised down the center of his back. Whining in the back of his throat, he leaned against her thigh in a protective stance. Katie patted his head, then rushed to the kitchen window, cursing the boards that blocked her view of the scene outside. She didn’t know how to cope with not knowing what was happening. Being trapped inside—blind—while the man she loved faced impossible odds was torture in the purest sense of the word. In a way, she almost resented Rafe for expecting her to do it.

Almost, but for the simple fact that she understood the need to keep one’s bond-mate safe. She felt that same desire deep in her soul—so deep that she wasn’t sure she could obey Rafe’s command to hunker down and hope for the best. Nothing he’d told her was incorrect. He did have physical advantages over her in this fight. He also had a psychological advantage. He could defend himself using pure animal instinct. She was stuck with her very human fear and anxiety, and she wasn’t sure how she would react if she truly did bring even more trouble down on herself. If she ended up getting herself killed, it would almost be like she was killing Rafe, too. So he was absolutely right. It was probably dangerous for her to do anything except hole up with a weapon and wait for morning.

But how could she do nothing? He was even more outnumbered than they’d realized. How could she not help him when she knew she was capable of at least evening the odds a little? If she hid in his bedroom with a shotgun, Rafe could be torn apart outside within minutes. Then what? Even if she managed to fend off every werewolf in the forest, she would greet the morning as a widow. And she would never forgive herself for not following her heart.

Shilah growled at her feet as though he was privy to her thoughts and did not approve. “Quiet,” she scolded him, then pressed her ear to the window and strained for some clue about what was happening.

A male shout. “Did you save any for us, traitor? I can smell her all over you.”

Then a woman. “Took her for a ride after all, didn’t you?”

A familiar growl from just on the other side of the window, probably near the porch steps. “Let’s take this into the woods. This isn’t about her.”

“Like hell it isn’t.” Lisa. “That bitch is the reason my Zeke is dead. Tearing your bond-mate apart will be the highlight of my f*cking night.”

“Shutting you up will be mine.” Rafe sounded like he was moving away from the cabin—toward the wolves that hungered for his blood. “I can promise an excruciating death to anyone who even comes close to touching her. But only if she doesn’t blow your f*cking head off with her shotgun first.”

From somewhere in the distance, a tormented scream cut through the din of the crowd. Then another. Nearby, Rafe wailed and a wave of intense discomfort washed over Katie. Like she was about to burst out of her own skin.

Lisa’s voice, sharp with excitement: “Getting close. You ready?”

A fresh jolt of pain had Katie bent at the waist, trying desperately not to pass out. She stumbled away from the window and knelt next to the kitchen table, sucking in deep breaths while she fought to push through the agony that poured from Rafe’s soul into hers. She could feel his suffering in her bones, could taste it as a metallic tang in the back of her throat. Shilah woofed quietly and nudged her with his nose, as though encouraging her to stand. Balling her hands into fists, she rested her head atop them on the floor and listened to the godawful racket outside. The inhuman din sent a chill up Katie’s spine. She knew what it meant. They were transforming.

The worst of the discomfort subsided within a minute—though it felt like she’d been trapped in Rafe’s psychic pain for hours. As soon as she was able to catch her breath, she waged a silent, internal battle about what to do next. She’d promised Rafe no shooting. She’d assured him that she remembered the attic was her last resort. And yet all she could think about was fleeing upstairs so she could assess the situation from above. Nobody would know. She didn’t even have to open the window. Well, unless an incredible opportunity presented itself. Otherwise, she could just watch.

Surely Rafe didn’t expect her not to watch.

Katie rose to her feet. The ladder in the den, perched below the attic hatch like an invitation, proved too tempting to ignore. Before she could second-guess the decision, she tucked the revolver into her jeans and grabbed the shotgun from the kitchen table. Sprinting toward the ladder, she reasoned that the attic might actually be the safest place in the cabin. Even if it was dark and the footing treacherous, at least there was only one way in or out. If any wolves got into the house, she could simply sit across from the hatch and shoot whatever made it upstairs.

She scaled the rungs in three desperate steps, pushing the shotgun up ahead of her. Shilah ran circles around the bottom of the ladder, barking and growling and contributing to the growing chaos in the air. “Quiet, Shilah!” she shouted. “Go lie down.”

Shilah jumped up and placed his front paws on the middle rungs. He gave a muffled bark, then another, almost as though he was scolding her disobedience in Rafe’s absence.

Katie waved him away. “I need to protect your daddy. You want to protect me, you stand guard down here. Let me know if anyone gets inside.”

Shilah whined, but didn’t move from his spot on the ladder. She climbed the rest of the way into the attic, ignoring the sounds of canine protest below. Once upstairs, she moved across the floor slowly, careful not to slip off the joists and prove Rafe right about the danger of walking around. The space was already noticeably darker than it had been only fifteen minutes ago. Moonlight illuminated each end of the large room, but left a patch of inky blackness in the middle. Once again, Katie chose the path of least resistance and made her way to the same window where she’d seen the two men sparring earlier. Confident that the moon’s glow adequately lit her path, she turned off the flashlight, not wanting anyone to see her from the ground.

Aggressive noises filtered in from outside, though it sounded like the heat of the battle was located on the other side of the cabin. Not dissuaded from her initial course of action, Katie balanced on the joists and crouched beside the window so she could peek outside. A dark shape streaked out from the edge of the trees and quickly ran beyond her line of sight. She cursed under her breath, then pulled the revolver from her jeans and flipped the safety off. Aiming ineffectually through the glass, she waited for more movement.

Just as she was ready to give up and make the long walk to the other side of the cabin, where she could hear snarls interspersed with the occasional yelp, two wolves raced into view, then turned to follow the first wolf she’d seen. She didn’t think about consequences or even give herself time to consider the wisdom of taking a shot. Instinct took over. She lowered the revolver and yanked the window open in a mad rush. If she could take out an isolated wolf or two away from the main action, perhaps she could remain out of sight, on the periphery. If she were lucky, no one would catch her scent clear on the other side of the cabin. She would make sure that any wolves unfortunate enough to enter her sights wouldn’t have the chance to alert the rest of the pack.

Almost as soon as she opened the window, both wolves skidded to a stop. They each began to turn in circles, noses in the air. Alarmed by how right Rafe had been about how powerfully their senses were attuned to the smell of human, Katie scrabbled with the revolver for a frantic moment before aiming at the wolf on the left, which was buff-colored and larger than its grey-and-white companion. As the beast swiveled to face her, raising its head to stare directly into her eyes, Katie exhaled and pulled the trigger.

The wolf fell and hit the ground as a nude, motionless man. His companion snarled and leapt toward the cabin. Seconds away from losing her line of sight on the smaller wolf, Katie aimed and took another shot. Then another. The small wolf’s head snapped back and a visible spray of dark blood stained the snow below. She caught a glimpse of a naked female corpse—perhaps the brunette who’d put on that sordid sex show earlier—before she eased away from the window and into the shadows, paranoid about the deafening crack of her gunfire. Her chest rose and fell as she fought to catch her breath, overwhelmed by the reality of what she’d just done. She had just ended two lives.

Two human lives, for all intents and purposes.

Because they weren’t just wolves, were they? Just like Rafe wasn’t just a wolf. They had folks who loved them. Mates. Children. A pack. They had probably even been capable of love and kindness, in their own way.

Katie forced those thoughts from her head. Those ‘people’ she’d just shot looked at her and saw a meal to be consumed or a body to be violated for their sick pleasure. Their pack-mates were attacking Rafe right now. They would have killed her or Rafe in a second, given the opportunity. She might be the only one saddled with the burden of a moral code tonight, but she wasn’t going to let it prevent her from doing whatever it took to survive. Or to protect what was hers.

Full of renewed determination, Katie took a deep breath and moved to the open window again. She raised her gun to aim, then froze, horrified by the sight that greeted her below. Four wolves stood over the bodies of their companions, each of them staring up at her with glowing eyes. Startled into action, Katie fired a wild shot that went far left of her intended target. Each wolf took off in a different direction, all of them advancing on the cabin. For seconds that felt like hours, Katie sat paralyzed, listening. Downstairs, Shilah barked madly as the sound of shattering glass filled the air.

The windows.

Aware that Rafe had probably only bought her a few minutes with his quick boarding job, Katie struggled to her feet and hopped from one joist to the next until she reached the open hatch. She slid the cover into place to seal the attic off, then rushed to the opposite window, determined to take another peek outside before she had to turn her focus toward defending herself. If she had any chance of helping Rafe in whatever battle he was fighting, she had to take it. Now that she’d taken that first shot, there was no point in stopping now.

The barking downstairs hit a frenzied pitch as Katie reached her destination. The sound of Shilah in full protective mode sent guilt crashing over her. She’d left Rafe’s dog—his brother, for God’s sake—downstairs by himself, unprotected and hopelessly outmatched in any kind of fight with a supernatural canid. Her conscience tugged at her to go get the shotgun and protect Shilah, but her legs stopped working at her first sight of Rafe locked in epic battle.

His dark form was unmistakable in the moonlight, a lone figure encircled by five wolves. Surrounded by his enemies, he betrayed no fear or hesitation. Every time a wolf launched itself at him, he engaged it with fierce, murderous intent that left her shaking. He was so very powerful, but at the same time, he had never seemed more vulnerable. Though he was clearly capable of self-defense, the night was young and there were at least four other werewolves who could potentially lose interest in breaking into the cabin and seek out Rafe instead. And who knew how many more lurked out of her line of sight? No one—not even a bad-ass werewolf—could withstand an hours-long onslaught, hopelessly outnumbered, without sustaining serious injury. Or worse.

Ten yards away from where Rafe faced off against his attackers, four more wolves were tussling with a fifth. Katie wasn’t sure what to make of that battle. So far it seemed as though the other pack ran together. It was possible that one of Rafe’s own pack-mates had come to his aid and engaged them in a fight.

She hoped so. They needed all the help they could get.

Just as she had that thought, a loud crack sounded from below and Shilah snarled with a ferocity she’d never heard before. Another snarl filled the air, deeper and more menacing, before the worst dog fight she’d ever heard in her life broke out downstairs.

Shilah was in trouble.