Page 8 of Wanted By the Wolves

My wolf wants to get her to a den, breed her, and claim her throat.

I mentally tap his nose.

Bad wolf.

Now isn’t the time for that bullshit. Just because she’s an omega doesn’t mean she’s mine. No matter what the moon is telling my wolf.

My job is to keep her safe. Nothing more.

I roll down my window to clear my head, and the chilly mountain air helps cut through the rising need to rut. Feral howls echo through the forest, and I check the mirrors again. Her scent is so strong they’re going to catch it if they’re close enough.

We’ve barely escaped the Outskirts of the North Pass territory. The Alpha King and his wolves will learn of ourjailbreak soon if they haven't already. I have no doubt he’ll send teams for us.

Getting out of there was easier than it should have been. Nobody thought to guard the window to where they were holding her.

Bunch of amateurs.

More than half the new king’s guards are pups from the tents. The soldiers are untrained and too busy gloating at their newfound lot in life to be vigilant or strategic.

Once they realize she’s gone, it will be too late to follow her scent trail. The ferals, on the other hand, are gonna be a problem. If this is how much she’s perfuming before the full moon, her peak during heat will draw wolves like a homing beacon. The only way we keep her alive is to get her somewhere where we can hide her scent.

In the backseat, my brother has her bundled up in his lap. He’s purring for her. You’d think that seeing an omega would be the strangest thing of the night. I haven’t laid eyes on one in almost a decade. But listening to my normally silent brother—the one who scares most living things—purr for the tiny omega? That shit is the wildest thing I’ve ever seen, hands down.

A howl, closer this time, forces my foot on the gas.

“Where?” Dex asks, keeping his tone low. I don’t know why. The tranq dart they hit her with should keep her out for at least the next twenty-four hours. With her injuries, it might be longer.

“Briar Ridge?” I ask. The village is one we just visited on our way back to North Pass, so I know it’s not been compromised. They have a compound we could fortify, but with her scent, it’s a risk.

Dex gives a rough shake of his head no. “Needs a healer. The venom.”

Shit. He’s right.

Healers have never been common, but almost all of them have been wiped out or become so weak they’re like regular wolves. Wolves have shifter magic that allows us to harness our beasts, but healers are wolves who can practice magic. The king has healers, but obviously that’s not an option. Who the heck is left who is powerful enough to help her?

I rack my brain, searching through the places we’ve been in our years on the road.

“Gage!” I shout in realization, warmth growing in my chest at the memory of the healer.

I haven’t seen him in a long time, but I don’t know why I didn’t think of him first. He’s powerful, and the last time we were with him, he had wards. Those magical boundaries will keep the ferals out.Perfect.

I watch in the rearview mirror as my brother looks at the sleeping omega. He is enraptured by the tiny bundle in his arms. Never before has he acted like this. It’s as though he’s been on autopilot and has only just now awoken.

“You know our job is to protect her, right? She isn’t ours.” I hate that it needs to be said. Already, he’s too attached.

He meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, the silver in his almost appearing to glow. No words are spoken, but I can see the war in his expression and feel his turmoil through the littermate bond. He knows I’m right, and he hates it.

That makes two of us.

The ferals have been closingin for the last fifty miles. I pull off the mountain road. The half-cut trail is a bitch, making us bounce and jerk as we crawl across the rough terrain. It getsincreasingly difficult to drive as the forest thickens. Another half mile and any semblance of a trail is gone.

I park, knowing the Jeep can’t take us farther. To get to Gage’s, we will have to go on foot the rest of the way. I abandon all but the small hiking backpack with our essentials, tossing the bag to Dex. He manages to get it on while holding her,refusing to let the omega leave his arms.

The tranq gun is next. He holds it with one hand and her with the other. It would be best if he could shift—his human legs will make us slow—but that isn’t an option with the omega in her current state.

I don’t bother hiding the Jeep. Her scent is impossible to mute without access to shit I don’t have.

My wolf is eager for my skin, and I let his senses take over, shifting my form. Dex takes my wolf’s nod to the east as a command. We set off into the thick trees, racing against the backdrop of a rising sun as the howls of ferals ring through the forest. My wolf’s paws pound the dirt, eyes scanning for the first attack.

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