Mated in Mist (Talon Pack #3)

She was Leah Helm, water witch with no coven.

And nothing more.





Chapter Two


Ryder Brentwood stared down at the small woman in his arms and tried to keep his wolf from taking control. His inner beast rubbed against his skin, pushing at him to do more than merely cradle the sobbing woman. His wolf wanted to rip anyone who had ever hurt her to shreds. It wanted to take her away from the prying eyes of his brothers and keep her safe and warm in his home. It wanted to tend to her wounds and wait for her to be healthy again so he could slide deep into her warm heat and call her his for all time.

What the ever-loving hell?

Ryder didn’t have time for his wolf to go batshit crazy over a woman they didn’t know. And he sure as hell didn’t have time for this mating business. He pushed those thoughts to the side and promised his wolf he’d deal with them later.

Or not at all.

Leah gripped his shirt, tugging him closer, and he did the only thing he could do at the moment. He shifted slightly so he could gather her more firmly in his arms and therefore his lap. She curled into him, and he had a feeling she had no idea she was even doing it. Her eyes were closed, and her tears soaked his shirt. At that moment, he was just a warm body for her to grieve onto, to hold onto in the darkest of times. His heart raced, but he did his best to calm it. Her ear was right over his chest, and he knew she could feel the now-steady thump against her cheek. If his wolf could give that to her, then Ryder would, as well. It was the least he could do during her time of grief.

Of course, the fact that he couldn’t seem to keep his hand out of her soft, honey-brown hair was another matter. Though it looked as if she had been on the run for far too long and hadn’t been able to fully clean it, the strands still felt soft to his touch. It was long, thick, and straight. He could imagine it spread over her pillow as she slept, or even brushing along his skin as they came together.

No, he couldn’t imagine that. Because he wouldn’t be imagining that.

She let out a whimper and he tucked her closer. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, letting her know he was there. She might be a witch, but he was a wolf. Wolves were tactile creatures and needed touch to survive. He’d known a few wolves who’d gone touch-starved in the past under his father’s reign as Alpha. Ryder, as the Heir, would never let that happen. Not while he drew breath.

Again, he pushed the thoughts of his past and whatever future he didn’t want to think about out of his head. The only thing that mattered at the moment was Leah and her pain. It overwhelmed him, as did the power he felt running through her veins. He’d met a few witches in his time—he was over a century old—but he’d never held one so close. He’d hugged his friend Quinn’s mate Gina before, but it hadn’t been for long. As Quinn would readily tear off Ryder’s face for daring to touch her for more than a moment, Ryder understood. Mating was something precious.

Mating was something he would never have.

He closed his eyes, pushing those thoughts from his brain once again. He needed to focus, needed to worry about the here and now—not what would never be.

Gina was a fire witch. Or, half-witch, at least. Her birth mother had been a witch and her birth father a wolf. So when Ryder hugged her, he felt the crackle of her energy. The former Redwood Pack Healer was an earth witch; her energy was a little more grounded.

But Leah? Hers was a rush of cool power, flowing over him, under him, through him. And with how weak she was, he knew this wasn’t her at peak energy level. He couldn’t wait to see her at full strength.

He sniffed, frowned at the coppery scent of blood in the air.

His gaze shot to his brother, Walker, their Healer.

Walker, one of the triplets, knelt beside Ryder and Leah with a needle in his hand. “She’s not Pack so my powers won’t do her much good,” his brother explained, his voice a low drawl. “If she keeps moving like that, she’s going to tear her wound right open again.” Walker inhaled deeply. “Or she may have already. It doesn’t smell like she did it too badly, but if we don’t keep her still, it’s just going to get worse.”

Ryder nodded, understanding. Leah whimpered again, and he ran a hand over her arm. “Leah, keep still, you’re hurting yourself.” He kept his voice light, but the order was there.

She kept crying, her hands digging into his shirt.

Walker let out a sigh then injected her with the needle. Leah winced in Ryder’s arms and he did his best to soothe her. When she stopped moving and her breath came in an even rhythm, Ryder leaned back against the wall.

“Let me take her and put her back on the bed,” Walker said softly.