Page 117 of The Wild Wolf's Rejected Mate

Other howls ring out, other scents descending from all directions, mixing with the smoke from the dwindling fire.

Killian. And Tye, Ivo, Gael. Khalil, Alroy, Max.

Justus shoves me behind his body, the other Last Pack males rushing to stand at his left and right, blocking me from the Salt Mountain alpha swaying on his feet.

He didn’t even go down.

He bares his fangs, yanks the needle from his neck, and blinks at it, bemused.

“Did you stab me with a fuckingknitting needle?” He holds it up. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his bare chest. I didn’t even hit an artery.

Justus snarls, squaring his shoulders and bending his knees, readying himself to attack. Every inch of his body is covered in mud and blood, gashes and purpling bruises. White bone shows through a jagged slash on his forearm.

A male coughs, clearing his throat. “Can we just take a beat?” Killian raises his hands, raw flesh where his nails should be.

I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he’s as battered as Justus, and he seems to be favoring his left leg, like his right can’t hold weight. Our males spar constantly. I’ve seen all of them beat up at some point, but I’ve never seen any of them mangled this bad. I can’t believe either he or Justus are still upright.

“That bitch stabbed me.” Leith points at me with the knitting needle.

Justus howls and steps toward him. Khalil and Alroy grab his arms. He shakes them off like flies.

I dart forward and snatch his hand. He glances over his shoulder at me, his wolf blazing gold in his eyes. A snarl rattles his chest, but he stays put.

“That’s Annie Murphy,” Killian says to Leith. There’s a note of exhaustion in his voice that I’ve never heard before.

“The female we’re stealing back?” Leith’s lip quirks. He’s amused.

My wolf growls. The Quarry Pack males gape at me in surprise. The Last Pack wolves add their growls to mine.

“Can I ask what you were doing?” Killian asks Leith.

“Taking the opportunity to get a little of our own back.”

“Efa isn’t yours!” I shout. I have to be loud in order to be heard over the female wolves howling their own objection.

Justus tightens his hold on my hand, and I realize I’ve stepped forward, lifting the needle still clasped in my fist. He lifts his chin and growls at Leith in a register I’ve never heard before from any male, any alpha. It’s wolf and man, a resonance that’s both and neither and something else besides, a rumble that’s more thunder than voice. I catch a whiff of singed air.

And I realize that while we were speaking, the Last Pack wolves have been stalking closer and closer. All of them. Griff and Elis and Rodric and dozens of others, old and young, big and small. Somehow, Leon snuck from behind Lilliwen and circled around everyone so that he’s now approaching our rear with the others. The Quarry Pack and Salt Mountain males are outnumbered easily twenty to one.

And when my eyes dart to Killian’s face, I see that he realizes it, too. His gaze meets mine, and for the first time in my life, I hold it without flinching.

“You’re not stolen, are you, Annie?” he asks.

I shake my head.

He blows out a long breath before turning his attention to the female wolves still bristling in a line, defending the pups huddled under the sycamore.

“None of you were stolen, were you?” he says to them.

They bare their fangs and snarl at him low in their throats.

Killian looks to Justus. “She’s your mate?”

Justus growls in the affirmative.

“I can’t believeI’mthe one talking shit out,” Killian groans. Tye snorts, but he shuts up real quick when Killian glares at him.

“Look,” Killian says to Justus. “What are we going to do here? Because if I kill Annie’s mate,mymate is going to cut off my balls. And unless I’m seriously mistaken, ifyoukillme, Annie isn’t going to be happy either.”

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