Page 44 of Craved By a Wolf

And she was leaving.

His mate was running from him again.

MacKinnon howled and gave chase.

Chapter 14

Hella was beyond furious now.

She ran hard, panic at the helm, aware from the howl of rage that the wolf was going to pursue her again. Great. Just what she needed. She looked over her shoulder and sure enough, he was bearing down on her, his face a mask of pure fury and his eyes like liquid gold.

Gorgeous.

She shivered as a thrill chased down her spine, the foolish part of her wanting to accidentally, on purpose, slow down so he could catch her. She shoved it aside and clung to her anger.

“Thank yousomuch for leading them right to me!” she yelled at him, pouring every drop of sarcasm she could into her words.

His golden eyes narrowed on her and his lips flattened, drawing her gaze to them. Her blood heated and an unruly thought curled through her mind. Would that dark scruff that coated his jaw be soft against her lips or scrape them until they were sensitised?

Hella cursed herself and dragged her gaze away from him, making a valiant attempt to shut out rogue thoughts of the wolf.

She faced forwards again, banking right on a street that ran parallel to the promenade, not daring to hit it in case more nymphs were waiting there. She had five of the bastards hot on her heels. She really didn’t need to add to that number when the spells she had used to take down just two of them and clear a path to freedom had left her shaky.

The wolf barked, “Ah didnae ken them bawbags was gonna folla me!”

If it wasn’t for the fact she was being chased by the group of nymphs he had sicced on her, Hella might have found it endearing or possibly alluring that his Scots got way more pronounced when he was in a rage. As it was, her blood heated again, desire licking through her, and she had a hard time resisting looking back to drink her fill of him.

“Eyes forward, Hella,” she muttered to herself.

She struggled to keep hold of her bag as she ran, clinging to it with both hands and fighting the weight of it. Like this, she was vulnerable. She needed her hands to cast spells, but the bag was too heavy to carry in one hand, meaning she would have to stop and put it down in order to attack the nymphs. If she did, she risked losing her most cherished possessions. She needed what was in the bag.

But mother earth, it was getting heavier by the second.

Her breaths sawed from her lips, her heart pounding so fast she felt sick as her legs tired and she forced herself to keep going.

She cursed when she began to slow, the drain of using her magic to cast such powerful spells combining with adrenaline to steal her strength despite how desperately she clung to it.

The wolf caught up to her. “Can ye no’ run any faster?”

Hella shot him a look.

Was about to yell at him again when he shrugged.

And swept her into his arms, relieving her of her carpet bag at the same time. He tossed her over his shoulder and banded his forearm over her thighs, pinning them to his chest. She opened her mouth to protest, but snapped it shut as she realised that with the wolf carrying her and her bag, she had both hands free and was facing the nymphs.

She would yell at him later.

Right now, she had five nymphs to get off her tail.

Hella lifted her hands before her, jamming her elbows into his muscular back to stop herself from jiggling around so much. She stared at the spot between her palms as she moved them to face each other and summoned a spell. Five pinpricks of violet light appeared between her hands and grew into small discs.

They shot towards the nymphs, expanding as they approached them. She grinned as only two of them managed to evade them and the spell struck the other three. One nymph shot over sixty feet into the air and disappeared. One went flying to his left as if someone had attached a rope to him and pulled, slamming him into a building and sending him through the window. The third was blasted backwards and landed with enough force to shatter several flagstones.

“Careful no’ to burn my arse hairs, witch,” the wolf growled, each long stride jostling her on his shoulder.

Hella looked down. He did have a fine backside. It would be a shame to burn it. His navy Henley had ridden up, revealing flashes of twin dimples in his muscles just above the waist of his jeans, and she was sorely tempted to reach down and stroke them with her fingers.

“Anger me again and I’ll burn more than your arse hairs, wolf,” she bit out, holding on to her anger and refusing to let him see how badly he flustered her.

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