Ian had lied. Unintentionally, sure, but it had been five days, and still he hadn’t woken up.
Other than the slow breaths he took, there were no signs of life from her mate. And now she was watching the man she loved waste away, and she couldn’t do anything for him. It had been a mistake to ask him to hibernate human just so she could selfishly keep him for an hour a day. It wasn’t natural for him, and he was suffering because of her.
She felt like grit.
The days had melted together, one after the other as she’d watched over him, day and night, waiting, always waiting, for him to come back to her.
She was only able to sleep for a couple hours at a time, curled up beside him and wishing she was a bear just like him so they could hide all winter in a den somewhere on Afognak and lose this time together. Her restlessness wasn’t all because of Ian, though. Most of it stemmed from the howling wolves outside.
Each night they got closer, louder, more excited. This was their taunt. They could’ve come for her at any time. Perhaps they were waiting to make sure Ian was really down for the winter, but more likely they were waiting because the hunt was the fun of it, right? Once the kill was over, the McCalls would have to go back to their mundane lives of stealing and drinking themselves into oblivion as they waited for their inner monsters to drive them mad.
What an empty life. She pitied them. Elyse loaded another shell into her shotgun. Well, she almost pitied them.
They were close tonight, yipping between the haunting notes of their death song, as if they couldn’t contain their excitement, their bloodlust. She hated them.
Elyse stood and set her shotgun in line with the others, strap toward her so she could grab it quick.
She should be scared, but other than an occasional nervous flutter, she didn’t feel anything. Only resolve to protect Ian at all costs. At all costs.
A six-inch blade hung in a sheath from her hip, and on her other side, she’d fashioned a loop for her hatchet. These were her last-resort weapons. If she got down to her blades, she was probably already dead and just stalling on her fate. She’d used Ian’s phone to call a contact named Clayton again and again. She’d left him voicemails, but the head of Alaska Shifter Enforcement apparently didn’t get involved unless human life was already taken.
Too bad her life was the one that would be sacrificed to gain that kill order.
Miki growled at her feet, his black lips curled back, his teeth gleaming, his bi-colored eyes narrowed on the door. It didn’t matter that he was a puppy. He could look terrifying when he wanted to.
She’d locked the horses and goats in the barn but even from inside the cabin, she could hear them screaming and kicking the stall doors.
Owooooooo. Ooooo. Oooowooooooo.
The song of the wolves lifted and fell, and for the hundredth time, she tried to decipher between the voices. Tried to guess how many were coming for her. Cole had told her he had relatives all over Alaska, and apparently Miller had enough sway to call them all to go on a man hunt. Or as it happened, a woman hunt.
Miki’s growl grew louder and ended in a bark. The hairs rose all along his back and, in a rush, she scooped him up and shoved him in the guest room. God, she hoped she would be okay enough to let him out after this, but he would be killed for sure if he went after the wolves with her.
“I’m sorry, Miki,” she blurted out as she closed the door. Inside, the quarter grown pup went mad, barking constantly.
She bolted for the rifles on the wall, but the door exploded inward, spewing splinters over the living room.
Miller stood in the open doorframe naked and scarred with an empty sneer on his lips. His eyes were white and horrifying, and the first wave of fear washed over her.
“Where is he?”
Elyse gripped the handle of the knife at her hip. “Go to hell.”
“Been there for a long time, pretty bitch.” He lifted his chin, and his nostrils flared as he drew in a noisy breath. Then he strode past her toward the bedroom where Ian was hibernating. With a screech, she pulled her knife out and brought it down into his back.
Miller roared in pain and swung around. The back of his hand blasted across her face, and Elyse flew against the wall as the world spun on its axis. On hands and knees, she blinked rapidly, trying to see straight again as her ears rang with pain. Her face had a pounding pulse, and beneath her, red dripped onto the floorboards. Rage, dark and consuming, tinted her vision, and she spat crimson, then stood in time to see Miller dragging Ian’s limp body past her.