Soul Bonded

chapter TWENTY-NINE



Somehow, she was able to clean and stitch Shilah’s wounds in relative peace. She could hear the occasional muffled snarl or howl from outside, but there were no obvious attempts to break in to the cabin, and nobody tried to breach the closed bathroom door. Time faded away as she meticulously washed each gash on Shilah’s body, her entire world narrowing to the injured dog in front of her. Certain that Rafe wouldn’t mind, she borrowed his razor and shaved the fur away from the lacerations she felt were deep enough to require stitches. Then she went to work creating the sloppiest sutures she’d ever seen.

Shilah lay perfectly still for nearly all of her tending, only twitching and pulling away during her first couple of tries with the needle and thread. Soon she fell into a comfortable rhythm with her needle work and Shilah relaxed, watching her with alert brown eyes. She was relieved to discover that none of his injuries seemed particularly life-threatening, save for one deep cut on his side. Katie wasn’t certain whether it was deep enough that she needed to worry about internal bleeding, but that wound made her nervous. So did his leg, which was twisted and nearly severed at the knee.

“I’d give anything for an emergency vet right now,” Katie murmured to him. Considering her options briefly, she pulled off her shirt and wrapped it tightly around Shilah’s leg, creating a tourniquet. This was one injury she simply didn’t know how to treat. She suspected he would need a cast—or God forbid, an amputation—and she was in the position to provide neither. All she could do now was keep him comfortable and get them through the rest of this hellish night.

Exhaling shakily, Katie stroked Shilah’s head and tried to decide what to do next. She could either defend this position or else move Shilah to Rafe’s bedroom and defend that one. Though she hated the idea of moving Shilah again, the small, confined space they were in made her nervous. If a wolf did break into the bathroom, there would be very little room to maneuver. Shilah could easily get caught up in a fight that his body was in no condition to survive.

That settled it. She had to move Shilah somewhere safe.

Not about to make the same mistake as last time, she took the shotgun and walked through the cabin on another security sweep. She visited every room and opened every closet door, unwilling to get surprised again. Satisfied that they were still alone, she tucked the revolver into her jeans and left the shotgun on Rafe’s bed. Spotting Shilah’s dog pillow in the corner of the room, she carried it to the closet, opening the door and arranging it safely inside. She could hide Shilah in there for the night. That way, even if wolves broke in, he would be safe from harm.

Satisfied with her plan, she made the short trip to the bathroom next door and dragged the rug Shilah still lie on down the hall and into Rafe’s bedroom. He seemed to snuggle into her body as she picked him up and carried him the short distance to the closet, and she pressed a kiss to his uninjured ear and whispered, “You’re a good boy. Thank you for trying to protect me.”

He turned his head and licked her face. Placing him on his bed with a tired groan, she closed the door nearly all the way, but left just enough room that she could see him and he could see her. Then she pushed Rafe’s dresser in front of the closed bedroom door, blocking the only way in and out of the room. Shilah whined as she went to sit on the bed, but quieted when she held up her hand and gave him a firm look.

“Now it’s my turn to protect you,” she told him. “No arguments.” Scooting backwards so she could rest against the headboard, she held the shotgun on her lap, pointed at the door, and waited. And she tried not to think about whether Rafe was still holding his own. If she felt their connection get severed while she was sitting inside—safe—on his bed, she wasn’t sure she would ever forgive herself. Of course, if she left Shilah and he died, she’d never forgive herself for that either. Frustrated by her dilemma, wishing for sunrise, Katie gave Shilah a smile she didn’t feel. “Don’t worry, boy, it’ll be over soon.”

She wished she believed that.



Katie couldn’t remember having spent a longer night in her life. Not when she’d been trapped in her snow-covered car alone, waiting for rescue. Not that evening in college when her mother called to tell her that her father was in emergency surgery after suffering a heart attack. The only memory that even came close was the time she was six years old and convinced herself that there was a monster in her closet when her mother left the door ajar after her bedtime story. She’d been too frightened to get out of bed, or call out for her parents, or sleep. So she’d lain there for hours, staring into the inky depths of the closet and praying that the boogeyman wouldn’t come for her.

Waiting for morning to come—and Rafe’s torment to end—was infinitely worse than all of those tense nights combined. Once Shilah was settled and she had nothing to do but watch the door, she began to notice that some of the pain that radiated through her body didn’t seem to be the result of her own injuries. It was Rafe, who had to be exhausted and hurting. He’d been fighting for hours at that point with hours left to go, and it was obviously taking its toll. All night she strained to hear the sound of fighting, uneasily aware that it was her best indication that Rafe was still standing. The only other noise in the room was Shilah’s labored breathing and the riot of anxious thoughts in her head.

She hoped Rafe would return to her as soon as the sun came up. That he would be in one piece. That Shilah would be all right, and that Rafe would forgive her for allowing his dog to get into a fight unaided by her marksmanship. His potential anger with her for going against his wishes was the least of her worries. What would happen if he didn’t come back? What if she couldn’t even find him tomorrow morning? Or she did find him, but with injuries too severe for her to treat? She didn’t know what she would do if he was killed. Take his truck and Shilah and simply leave? And what then?

Katie jolted awake at the realization that she’d dozed off. With no windows in the room and no alarm clock on the nightstand—proof of the polar opposite lifestyles she and Rafe led—she had no way of knowing how long she’d slept. The first thing she did was roll out of bed and go to the closet to check on Shilah, whose rhythmic breathing had slowed but not stopped. His eyes were closed and his paws and nose twitched in fitful sleep. Relieved, she stood and stretched, determined not to join him in slumber again.

That’s when she noticed that something was different. The air was too still. Too quiet. Walking to the barricaded door, Katie tilted her head and listened.

She couldn’t hear the sound of fighting anymore.

Which could mean anything. Heart pounding, Katie braced herself against the dresser with both hands. She put her head down and closed her eyes, trying to reach out with her mind and body to feel Rafe. Before she’d never had to put any effort into their supernatural communication. It had just happened. Rafe had just been there. Now there was…nothing.

That didn’t mean Rafe was dead. Did it? Her knees wobbled and threatened to give out, but then she sensed…not nothing. The sensation was weak, thready, barely there—but it was something.

Shoving the dresser away from the door, she had a fleeting worry that morning hadn’t yet arrived. She’d promised Rafe that she wouldn’t go outside until the sun was up, but she would be damned if she was going to wait in his bedroom any longer. Not when his presence within her was as weak as it had ever been. Shilah whimpered from the closet as she snatched up the revolver, then the shotgun, but she silenced him with a single look. “I’ll be right back. You stay. And be quiet.”

She turned right after she left the bedroom and conducted a stealthy search of the guest room before venturing down the hall. She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes as she had last night. Even if the eerie silence suggested that the threat was over, complacency could get her killed. She checked every room in the house except the attic, trying not to let her gaze linger on the corpses she’d created only hours earlier. Once she was satisfied that she was still alone, she went to the kitchen window and pressed her eye against a narrow gap in the boards. Daylight greeted her.

Relieved, Katie walked to the front door and moved to unlock it. Then she hesitated. Daylight didn’t mean she was safe. No matter what their alpha had decreed, the other pack had suffered heavy losses throughout the night, six by her own hand. And she was still standing. Whatever peace treaty the two alpha wolves had forged to avoid a pack war was very likely null and void after the carnage she and Rafe had inflicted. Who was to say that Jack Devereaux wasn’t standing on the other side of the door, waiting to tear her apart the moment she walked out?

She dropped her hand and took a step back. The smart thing would be to go up to the attic and look out the windows before she ventured outside. At least that way she could survey the landscape and check that nothing but Rafe was still moving. If he was still moving.

“Stop it.” The sound of her own voice was shockingly loud, yanking her back from the edge of the abyss that beckoned when she thought of losing Rafe. She couldn’t succumb to the aching loss that threatened to consume her. He wasn’t dead. She’d felt something. She had.

Knowing it was the right plan made it no easier to return to the den and set the ladder back under the still-open hatch. It was hard enough to be around the bodies of the wolves she’d shot downstairs. The thought of having to see the one who’d come at her in the dark attic scared the hell out of her. Just thinking about the way he’d leapt upon her made her stomach clench. But there was no choice—not if she wanted to help Rafe.

Katie put down the shotgun and climbed the ladder slowly, feeling each and every hit she’d taken over the past thirty-six hours. Her muscles quivered from a mixture of fear and exhaustion, and despite her trepidation, when she got to the top she hauled herself into the attic and collapsed with a grateful sigh. All she wanted to do this morning was curl up in bed with Rafe and allow her body to heal, but instead she was lying face-to-face with the corpse of the man who’d f*cked his female friend on Rafe’s lawn the day before. Blood pooled around his head and his chest, where her blindly fired bullets had left neat holes. His lips were still drawn back in a terrible, ghastly snarl.

Shivering, Katie got to her feet and pointed the revolver at the body as she cautiously stepped around it and made her way to the window that overlooked the front of the cabin, from which she’d last seen Rafe. She paused before she looked outside, afraid that she would need a moment to prepare for the sight that might greet her. She had no idea what to expect. What kind of trouble they might still be in.

The thought that Rafe might still be in danger propelled Katie forward. She pressed her hands against the chilly glass pane, going boneless when the clearing came into view. The snow-covered ground was littered with blood and torn-off limbs and crumpled human forms, not one of them showing any sign of life. Nothing stirred. Her gaze skittered from one body to the next, searching for the familiar form of her lover among the victims of his wrath.

She recognized Rafe the instant she saw him. He was sprawled on his back in the center of the carnage, and mercifully, he was in one piece. Or at least he appeared to be. He was clearly unconscious, covered in blood, and frighteningly still. She scanned the surrounding area for another second or two, then hurried to the other side of the attic as quickly as she could. She spared only a passing glance out the back window, unsurprised to see the carcasses of the two wolves she’d shot and nothing else.

That was good enough for her. The dust had settled, the casualties were high, and Rafe could be bleeding to death even now. She had to go outside and get him.

She made it downstairs and to the front door without questioning her decision even once. Rafe had spent an entire night protecting her. Now it was her turn. Katie disengaged the lock and cracked open the door, peeking outside before taking a cautious step onto the porch. The chilly morning air stung her nostrils and brought tears to her eyes, which she wiped away in a hurry. She’d left the shotgun behind, aware that she couldn’t exactly carry it and Rafe—something she was increasingly worried she would need to do. The revolver was her only line of defense. As she stepped off the porch and into snow that wasn’t as deep as it had been the day before, the handgun hardly felt like protection at all.

She’d never seen so much blood and gore. Some of the dead werewolves had literally been torn apart, others eviscerated. As she made her way through a small group of bodies, she saw something that turned her stomach. Rafe’s pack-mate Cooper lay on the frozen ground with his throat torn out and both legs bent at odd angles. His sightless eyes stared at the startlingly blue sky above.

Katie said a silent thank you to his friend for the help, then stepped over a severed hand to get closer to where Rafe had fallen. That’s when she heard a soft crunching sound from her left, in a stand of trees. She turned and raised the revolver on instinct. Almost like she knew what the hell she was doing.

Lisa stared back at her, closer to Rafe than she was. Her slim, nude form was also smeared with blood, and though her gait indicated pain and exhaustion, her malevolent eyes were wild. She carried a large rock that Katie worried was intended for Rafe’s skull. Lisa bared her teeth in a ferocious snarl as she openly appraised Katie from head to toe. “He’s dead, bitch.”

She flicked her gaze to Rafe for only an instant before returning her attention to Lisa. “No, he isn’t.”

Lisa took another step closer to Rafe. “Well, he will be in a minute.”

Lowering the gun, Katie fired a shot that landed mere inches from Lisa’s bare foot. The bullet threw up a spray of snow and stopped the other woman mid-step. “Stay the f*ck away from him,” Katie said, and took her own step forward.

“And if I don’t?” Lisa scanned her body with a look of disdain. “You don’t scare me, you human piece of trash. I can tear you apart right now. Make you beg for mercy…wish you’d never been born.” She grinned, then licked her lips. “Pity Rafe won’t be awake to watch, though.”

Katie aimed at the center of Lisa’s forehead. “Last I heard, your alpha said no picking fights.”

“That was before you two wiped out a third of our pack. I’m guessing he might feel differently now.”

Katie held her finger on the trigger, ready to apply pressure at the slightest advance from the other woman. “I promise you, if you do anything except turn around and go home, I’m going to put a bullet in your head. I will make your little boy an orphan. I don’t want to, but I will.”

Her words seemed to strike a chord. Lisa’s shoulders dropped and she stared at Katie with an expression of pure hatred. “You don’t actually think this is over, do you?”

Gazing around at the bodies surrounding them, Katie said, “Haven’t enough lives been lost?”

“Not the right ones.” Lisa’s fury was palpable and frightening. Eyes glowing, she seemed to struggle not to leap forward and attack.

Katie tightened her hand on the gun, wholly prepared to pull the trigger. She wouldn’t hesitate to do it, no matter how much she despised the thought of killing an innocent child’s only living parent. She and Rafe hadn’t survived this long only to be separated now. “Don’t make me do this to Ben. Please don’t. Just leave. Go home to him.”

“Only because I want to be there when he wakes up.” Lisa tossed the rock in her hand in Rafe’s direction. Katie’s heart stuttered until it landed feet from his head, sparing him further injury. Then anger surged through her and she moved forward, but Lisa stopped her with a mocking smile. “I’ll see you next month, Katie. And the month after that. Until one of us is dead.” She turned her head and spat onto the ground, aiming at Rafe but falling short. “If Rafe’s Alpha lets you live, that is.” She walked backward, retreating without taking her eyes off Katie. “Looks to me like you just created one hell of a mess, human. Good luck convincing his pack that keeping you around is worth a war.”

Katie shivered, and it had little to do with the frigid air. She knew Lisa was trying to threaten and upset her, but there was truth in her words. How would Rafe’s pack react to what had happened? They weren’t exactly sympathetic toward her to begin with, and that was before she’d murdered rival pack members in cold blood. Aware that words couldn’t begin to fix anything, but compelled to say something anyway, Katie said, “I’m sorry about your mate. It’s not your son’s fault that his daddy attacked me. It’s not your fault, either.” She watched Lisa’s face, curious how she felt about her mate’s activities. If he hadn’t come after Katie, he would still be alive. “He should have been home with you.”

“He loved to go hunting. And I loved for him to do it. Nothing got him worked up like playing with a human woman before he came home to me.” Lisa lingered by the edge of the trees with a sneer on her face. “Zeke was a predator. You’re prey. He attacked you because that’s how nature works. But you know how nature doesn’t work?” She gestured at Rafe, then at her. “You two are an abomination. You’re disgusting. And I promise you I won’t stop hunting you until you’re screaming for mercy with my teeth in your throat.”

Katie had to forcibly stop herself from physically recoiling. She readjusted her aim, somehow holding her arm steady. “Get the f*ck out of here.”

Lisa growled, then shifted into wolf form. She hobbled away slowly, clearly more affected by the nightlong battle than she’d let on. Katie trained her gun on Lisa’s back and watched her slow retreat, not lowering the weapon until she was long out of sight. Afraid to drop her guard but all too aware that Rafe’s time could be running out, she waited for a minute or so after losing sight of Lisa, then reluctantly pocketed the revolver and ran to Rafe’s fallen body.

His skin was frighteningly cold—far colder than she’d ever felt him. His blue-tinged lips brought her heart into her throat, but it was the red blood streaked across his chest, thighs, and face that really worried her. She ran her hands up the chilled, tacky plane of his chest, then pressed her fingers to his neck to search for a pulse. He was alive, but in rough shape. Though she saw no wounds that appeared to be fatal, the fact that he hadn’t yet regained consciousness concerned her deeply. That Lisa was awake told Katie that it was past time for Rafe to rouse from his moon-induced sleep, but he didn’t stir even when she bent and pressed her lips to his in a quick, desperate kiss.

“Please, Rafe.” Katie laced her fingers with his and squeezed, waiting for some sign that he could hear her. “Wake up, baby. I really need you to wake up.”

He didn’t move. Katie raised her head and scanned the tree line, then the unmoving bodies around them. They were incredibly vulnerable out in the open like this. For all she knew, Lisa wasn’t the only rival pack member who’d survived the night. She needed to get him into the cabin as quickly as she could. As long as they stayed outside, they weren’t safe. But she had no idea how to move an unconscious man of Rafe’s size the thirty yards to the cabin, then up the porch steps and inside. If he wouldn’t wake up, she was in for a long, difficult task that would leave her completely exposed and helpless if Lisa or her friends decided to return.

Panic surged through Katie and she put her hands on his shoulders, shaking him hard. “Rafe!” She waited for his eyelashes to flutter, for a groan—some sign of life. But there was nothing.

A crushing wave of despair threatened to derail her. Rafe was alive, yes, but something was very wrong.

Katie stood up and, after a final glance around, slipped the revolver into the back of her jeans. Then she bent and grabbed Rafe beneath the arms. Summoning all the strength she had remaining, she grunted and dragged him a couple of inches across the slick snow. She had to stop and rest almost immediately. His limp body was impossibly heavy, and her ankle and hand throbbed from the events of the night before.

“Shit.” Tears slipped out of her eyes and froze on her cheeks, drawing her attention to just how frigid the morning air was. Nervous about letting her emotions get the better of her, she searched the trees once more, ready to draw the gun and defend Rafe to the death. Still quiet. Giving his arms another tug, Katie managed to move him a few inches closer to the porch before his foot got caught on the leg of the dead body lying beside him. No matter how hard she tugged, the corpse held him stubbornly in place. Exhausted, she let go of Rafe’s arms and fell backwards into the snow with a frustrated cry. “F*ck.”

“You look like you could use some help.”

Startled by the quiet female voice at her back, Katie leapt to her feet and whirled around as she withdrew the revolver from her jeans. An attractive brunette woman stood beside Rafe’s porch, not ten feet away, completely nude and wearing an expression of genuine concern. She narrowed her eyes when Katie pointed the gun at her head, but didn’t move.

“Don’t come any closer,” Katie warned in a tremulous voice. She swiped away her tears quickly, determined not to show any weakness. They might be the predators and she the prey, but she was damn sure going to do everything she could to defend Rafe. “Stay back.”

The woman ignored her and took a step forward. “Is he alive?”

She aimed at the woman’s forehead. “Stop or I’ll shoot you. I swear I will.”

The woman stopped. Then she sighed. “I came to help Rafe. Want to put down your gun and let me?”