Page 40 of Ruthless Moon

“Shift back, Liam.” Bast’s voice resonates with authority, the low growl unmistakably an order, not a suggestion. “Gen, get out from under him. We have to get him to shift back.”

I try to argue, but all that comes out is a pained whimper. I’ve been shot before, but this is worse. My strength is waning, ebbing away like a receding tide.

In a sudden flurry of movement, Gen wriggles from beneath me. Instantly, panic claws at my insides, my wolf responding to her absence. I reach out with a paw, herding her back to the safety beneath my protective bulk.

Her place is here. With me. Always.

“I’m fine. The shooter is gone.” The words seep from Gen’s lips, each syllable laced with desperation. “Liam, please,” she pleads, crawling out from under the fortress of my chest.

The pain is less now.

I’m doing better.

Except I’m not standing. My head is on the grass.

“Liam, now. We can’t lift you in this form.” My youngest brother Jackson’s voice slices through the mental fog. He’s carrying a tarp. “Shift.” The command is unmistakable and sounds strange coming from him.

But my wolf relinquishes and I shift.

The world shimmers and I focus on Gen’s face, except she doesn’t look happy to see me. Her eyes are wide with terror and tears run down her cheeks.

“Keep her safe,” I grind out, the words more of a plea than a statement.

“You did, you idiot,” she chides, the sharpness of her tone belying the worry etched on her face. “Let your brothers help you.”

I laugh at her comment on the inside. She’s safe. That’s all that matters. Everything else is hazy and unfocused, but I know I kept her safe.

I’m lifted from the ground and put somewhere, probably the back of Jackson’s truck. My eyes flutter open and I see Gen again. That’s all I need. Her image is a beacon through the crowding shadows.

Her touch is featherlight as her fingers ghost over my face, tracing lines of concern. Her closeness, her care, ignites a warmth deep within my chest.

My mate is with me where she belongs.

She’s staying with me.

“He’s fading!” I hear her shout, panic underlining her words.

The truck lurches forward, and a spike of pain assaults me, swiftly replaced by an empty chill. A desire for warmth crosses my fragmented thoughts. Clothes. Or a blanket. A blanket would be nice.

“Focus on me, Liam. Don’t you dare die.”

Die? I’m not dying. I can’t die. I can’t leave my mate.

With a herculean effort, I force my eyes open, locking onto hers. By Fate, she is beautiful.

“That’s right. You fight, you hear me?”

Her voice and her touch are my anchor, but the link to her is dwindling, a thread threatening to snap. I can’t feel her hands anymore. And her voice is foggy and sounds so far away.

An abyss of darkness yawns open, pulling me under its inky water. I’m slipping, fading...

And then, with a gut-wrenching finality, I lose her.

Chapter Fourteen

Losing Him Is Not an Option

IMOGEN GALLAGHER

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