Page 22 of Protector

I keep all emotion out of my voice. I don’t want him to think I care one way or another because if he knew… this could get even uglier real fast.

“For now. I can keep him that way, too. If…”

Of course there’s an if. “If?”

“I thought you were feral like the Alpha. I know better now. You’re too dangerous to be allowed in Winter Creek. To protect my coven, I’ll let the Beta live if you die.” He trails his glowing hand about an inch over the curve of Tristan’s back. Is he… is he breathing? I can’t tell. “Will you sacrifice yourself for your packmate?”

If he was just a packmate, I don’t know. But he’s not just my packmate, is he?

Bond or no bond, he’s still my mate—and I can’t let Claude hurt him.

“If you kill me, what’s to stop you from killing him?”

He crosses his heart with his non-glowing hand. “Je le jure. You have my word.”

Yeah. Because that means a lot, right?

Okay, Jeannie. You have to figure a way out of this. Save Tristan. Only sacrifice yourself as a last measure.

“Fine,” I say, lying my ass off. “Come over here and do it then.”

Maybe he’ll get close enough that I can shift and give control back to my wolf. Or he can throw the spell at me, I can maybe dodge it, and still give my wolf a chance to eliminate this latest threat to her mate. Or?—

Tristan surprises both of us by suddenly rolling over onto his side. His hand shoots out, going right from Claude’s crotch.

From the howl of pain that tears out of his throat, I’m pretty sure Tristan just used his claws to slice deep into Claude’s cock.

He doesn’t keep them there long. One brutal stab, then a ruthless yank after and Tristan uses his bloody claws to swipe at Claude’s throat next.

The witch goes to his knees, hard, then lands flat on his face.

Tristan switches places with him. Hopping a little awkwardly to his feet, he rears back his bare feet, getting Claude right in the gut. The kick lifts the witch up, and I thought Tristan flew before, that’s nothing compared to the way the bloody witch corpse soars before hitting a tree in the distance.

Holy shit. The model-handsome Beta has some fucking moves.

Was he faking? Waiting for the opportune moment to strike at Claude, taking it when I must have distracted the witch?

Tristan’s eyes are fully white and completely wild as his head swivels, searching for me. He takes one step, then another, murmuring something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like my name before he folds in on himself and collapses.

Okay. Not faking. Not faking even a little.

I rush over to him and drop down by his side.

With blood and gore still on his claws, he clutches my wrist gently as he looks up. His blue eyes seem dull, almost like he can’t focus on me. “Jeannie…”

“I’m here, Tristan. I’m right here.”

“Listen to me. Waterfall. You need to go to the waterfall.”

What?

“It’s… it’s closer than the pack house. The cave… it’s safer. What if there’s more? No, I…” He chokes, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. What? Why? How? He got zapped, but the only ones who took a claw-shot were the witches. “I can’t protect you. You have to go.”

His eyes flutter shut. He’s out.

Hurt.

Vulnerable.

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