Page 82 of A Rebel's Shot

“Climbing,” he called out, hating the defeat in his voice.

As he ascended, nauseating shame coursed through him.

He’d failed.

Failed Merritt, failed himself, failed to live up to the Rebel family name. The climb back up seemed to stretch on forever, each reach for a handhold a scream of his shortcomings.

“Tiikâan.” Suddenly, Merritt’s voice cut through his spiral of self-pity.

He paused, looking up toward her voice. “Yeah?”

There was a beat of silence, then a trembling, “Hey, bear.”

Cold fear rushed through Tiikâan’s veins, turning his blood to ice. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as the implications of those two simple words hit him.

Merritt was in danger.

And he was too far away to help.

“Merritt?” He scrambled upward, frantic now, his own safety forgotten.

Her scream pierced the air, a sound that sliced through him like a knife, followed by the sickening sensation of the rope going slack. His breath whooshed from his lungs, the sudden slack nearly causing him to lose his footing.

He lunged for a handhold, a desperate scramble to regain his balance as his feet swung out over the abyss. Fingers skimming the rocks, Tiikâan plummeted, his hands desperately grasping for any hold on the rock face as the ground rushed up to meet him.

THIRTY

She’d killed Tiikâan.

A sob jerked from her as she raced blindly through the woods.

She needed to go back.

To help him.

A crash and roar behind her kept her feet stumbling forward. Merritt’s heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm that matched her desperate footfalls as she tore through the dense Alaskan forest.

The world around her blurred into a chaotic mess of green and brown, branches whipping across her face and leaving stinging trails in their wake. She could barely breathe, each gasping inhale burning in her lungs as she pushed herself harder, faster.

Oh, God.

She’d let go.

She’d let him fall.

Guilt threatened to overwhelm her, but thethunderous crash of the bear’s pursuit drowned out everything but the primal need to survive.

Merritt’s legs burned with exertion as she vaulted over a fallen log, her hands scraping against the rough bark. She stumbled, nearly losing her footing on the uneven forest floor.

The sound of her own ragged breathing filled her ears, punctuated by the terrifying huffs and grunts of the massive grizzly behind her.

She had to make it to the shelter from the night before.

It was her only hope.

Branches slapped against Merritt’s face as she tore through the forest, each impact stinging like tiny whips against her skin. Her lungs burned, desperate for air as she pushed herself beyond her limits.

A low-hanging limb caught her across the chest, nearly knocking her off her feet. She stumbled, arms pinwheeling as she fought to regain her balance. The momentary pause allowed her to hear the bear’s huffing breaths, closer now than before.

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