Page 57 of Predator

The Alpha is in the lead, tearing out of the woods, racing across the grass toward Jeannie and me. Forming a triangle behind him, I see two fair-furred wolves; gold compared to Jeannie’s shocking white fur. One is limping, but motoring. The other is slightly unsteady on her paws, but determined to keep up.

Tristan and Jade. Either she found them or they found her, but she made it out in one piece, coming back to save me.

Okay. Maybe she’s not so bad…

Leaving Jeannie behind me, I take off for the big, black wolf. As I do, his body shimmers. In between one step and another, Lucas shifts to two legs, his muscular chest heaving, dick basically flopping as he pours on the speed.

The only reason we don’t collide is that Lucas is prepared for me to launch myself at him. As I throw my hands around my mate’s neck, I bury my face against the scars in his throat, breathing him in as he squeezes me so tightly, I end up short of breath.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, choking out the words. “Luc… I’m okay.”

I don’t think he believes me.

He runs his hand over my back, checking for who knows what. When I gasp, he realizes just how tight his hold is. Setting me on my feet, he releases me, that old familiar glower twisting his features as he looks me over.

I knew he would be pissed. I’d braced myself for it. Sure, I hoped his relief that I was okay would outweigh how reckless I just was, but that glower has me edging away from my mate.

“Lucas—”

“You stink like blood.”

Back on my feet again, I glance down. Luckily, there isn’t any on me. The magic got rid of it from my hand, and if any blood spray dotted my clothes, it’s hard to tell on my black tank top. Besides, the red cloak was covering most of me before. Jeannie has it on now and considering she doesn’t have anything on beneath it, I’m not looking over there.

The stink’s still in my nose, though. The rusty, metallic stink that—once upon a time—would’ve had me going light-headed before dropping into a faint. I don’t think I’ll ever get past my hemophobia, and I wouldn’t be Fallon Witt if I did, but at least I can breathe through my mouth and deal with it for the moment.

Until Lucas sucks in a deep breath and that’s the first thing he notices once he’s assured himself that I’m alright.

It could’ve been worse. My mate could’ve picked up Remy’s scent from where he tried to sling his arm around my shoulders before I shook him off…

Of course, right as that thought flits through my head, his chin dips. Another deep breath and his amber-colored eyes burn like molten gold. “Gauthier touched you, too. He touched my mate. I’ll kill him. This time, I won’t leave that fucking witch breathing, I’ll?—”

“Too late, Guidry. I took care of him already.”

When he first burst out of the woods, Lucas only had eyes for me. Once he saw that I was okay, he barely glanced at Jeannie; that’s the Alpha in him, checking out all threats. But because she’s not pack or an obvious enemy, he didn’t pay too much attention to her. The blood stink and the fact that I’m still feeling a little shocky as we made our escape was probably a distraction to the big guy. Plus, she’s naked and not his mate. Once he noticed, he probably dismissed her quickly.

But the way Jeannie tossed that part out so casually? Oh, yeah. She’s got his attention now.

“Who are you?” His nostrils flare, cheeks hollowing as a flash of recognition shadows his gorgeous face. He looks down at me. “That scent from the woods?”

He must have caught the tingly, peppery scent. I nod. “This is Jeannie Lipton. She’s?—”

A soft growl cuts me off. Thinking it’s from Lucas, I frown… and that’s when I notice his expression hasn’t changed at all.

I turn to Jeannie. Nope. She didn’t growl, either—and neither is she watching Lucas.

Oh, no. She’s glaring at something in the not-too-far distance.

Following the direction of her stare, my mouth falls open when I see that the growl belongs to Tristan.

The gold wolf is pacing back and forth, swishing his tail as he keeps his icy blue eyes locked on Jeannie. The low growl has turned into a sustained rumble that goes up and down in pitch as if he’s actually saying something instead of just making animalistic sounds.

I… I kind of think he is. At the very least, Jeannie waits for him to stop before she tosses her head back. Honestly, if I hadn’t insisted on her putting on the cloak, I doubt she would’ve bothered with it. I’m glad now that I did—just because Lucas didn’t look doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have set of my own jealous tendencies if he had—but something about Tristan’s unexpected reaction has me wondering what the hell is going on here.

And then Jeannie says, “Yeah. I had to shift. What of it?,” and I’m even more gobsmacked.

“You can understand him? When he’s a wolf?”

It’s one thing to focus enough to understand English when I’m in my fur. But to be in my skin and translate a wolf’s grunts, yips, and howls and understand? I didn’t think that was possible—but it seems to be for Jeannie.

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