“Hold your breath,” Elyse murmured, then pulled the trigger again. “Reload.” Her fingers were steady as she cracked the shotgun open and shoved two more shells into it. “Remember, remember.” Her voice dipped to a whisper as she yanked the barrel back into place. “Ian, please wake up.” Her voice sounded so soft, defeated, as if she’d given up on him.
Ian clenched his hands, willing himself up. The wolves were threatening his mate. She was hurt. Bleeding. He would kill whoever had done this. Kill them. Kill.
He mustered every ounce of his energy, conjured his monster, called on the snarling bruin inside of him. This was it. His animal had always wanted to rampage, and here was his chance. Bones cracking, he gave himself to the bear.
Changed, Ian stood to his full height and roared his fury. So many wolves. How were there this many? Ian charged, drawing their attention away from Elyse. He stumbled, so exhausted, but he had to protect her. Had to draw them back into the woods so she could get away. Get inside and lock the door.
Run, Elyse!
Teeth sank into his back, and he spun, caught a gray wolf with his claws as three more attacked. He was surrounded, but this was the way it was supposed to be. Elyse was supposed to live.
The sounds of high caliber rifle shots echoed now, one after the other, and the wolf at his throat dropped like a stone under him.
In desperation to buy her time, he clawed and fought. Pain slashed at him, but he had no thought save mauling the next wolf, and the next.
“Lincoln, help us!” Elyse yelled.
Lincoln? He was one of them. The enemy. A McCall.
“Please!” Elyse begged.
Another shot rang out.
Two wolves were fighting now. Dissention in the ranks, but it wouldn’t be enough. Ian had four on him, and his fur was matted with red. Pain, pain, pain.
Another shot and another, and Ian couldn’t stand on his own anymore. Too little energy left. Too much ache. Too much red snow.
He hit the ground hard, but the teeth left him. Inhaling deeply, he pried his eyes open. Elyse was sprinting for him, boots crunching against the deep snow, rifle up as her blazing gold eyes followed something he couldn’t see. Warrior. Badass. Fearless. My mate. Mine. It was okay to go like this, looking at her.
Elyse stood over his body, weapon trained on something in the woods, but she didn’t move to pull the trigger anymore.
Her hand brushed his fur. So comforting. “Ian, it’s okay to sleep. I’ve got you.” She looked at him with such fierce determination and repeated, “I’ve got you.”
And then the winter woods faded, leaving only Elyse’s fearless gold eyes for a moment before the world went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Five
November
December
January
February
March
April
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ian grunted and pushed upward, paws against something cold and unfamiliar. Wooden floors? He forced his eyes open and looked around the den. Not his den on Afognak, but he knew this smell. Home.
He was starving, but he didn’t need to go far. There were wooden crates of food, filled with sawdust and shelves of canned meat. Strips of smoked venison hung from the rafters above. He needed to Change back but couldn’t fight the gnawing hunger long enough. Ravenously, he yanked down the long strips of venison and tore into them until every bit of the meat was devoured. Only when that was gone did he brave the pain of the Change after the long winter.
His human body was smudged and emaciated, but that part was expected. What he couldn’t comprehend was why there was a web of new scars across his legs and torso. What the hell? His stomach still felt so hollow he was nauseous, so he pulled the canned meat from the shelves and ate that, too, then moved onto the remaining carrots in the wooden crate. Only when he’d eaten everything in the root cellar besides the strands of garlic did he crawl up the ladder and out of the den.
Even muted, the light in the living room was blinding, and he had to blink several times to bear it. Elyse wasn’t here. He couldn’t hear her or Miki, and a sliver of worry took him as the memories of Changing mid-hibernation crashed down on him. He stumbled toward the bathroom. It smelled like her. Even the shampoo she used lingered, so she must be okay. Still here, protecting him. He ran the water in the shower, but it was just a trickle and cold as balls. Still, he scrubbed his skin clean. He ghosted a glance at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, but his face looked just as wretched as it always did. Hollow face, long beard, dull, sunken eyes. A vain part of him didn’t want Elyse to see him like this.