Page 16 of Stalked By the Wolf

Claire whimpers in terror and darts back up the stairs.

Good girl.

Recovered, I continue herding Murphy out into the frigid night air. Then the crunch of snow catches my attention, and I see the outline of another bear stalking toward me.

Shit.

He probably smelled the blood and came running — my blood. I can feel the warmth seeping from my wounds, but I hold my ground. My angel’s life depends on it.

A murderous growl rumbles through me as I charge the newcomer. I don’t think. I just attack, losing myself to the pain as I rip at the bear with fang and claw. I’maware of an engine humming in the distance, but I keep my focus on the two giant bears trying to take what’s mine.

I don’t see the second bear’s paw fly out until it’s too late. It catches me squarely in my injured side, and I slam into a tree trunk.

I whimper in pain, trying to stand, but I can’t make my legs obey.

Get up, get up!

But it’s no use. My strength is failing. I can feel it draining from my body, staining the snow around me crimson.

A pair of eyes flash in the dark as Murphy lopes toward me. He moves slowly, lazily, as if he has all the time in the world — as if he plans to savor the scent of my fear before he disembowels me in my own backyard.

But then a blur of dark fur barrels out of nowhere, latching onto Murphy. I hear a deadly snarl and know from his scent that Mad Dog Maddox is off his leash. Nick flies in next, and the two of them bring down the bear as I struggle once more to gain my feet.

I don’t have to tell them that Murphy is mine — even if I have to drag myself over there on two legs. They know I’ve been hunting him for over a year.

The bear growls as I limp toward him. Every step is pain. And yet I won’t rest until the bastard who hurt my mate is nothing but a pelt at my feet.

When my fangs sink through Murphy’s flesh, I have no intention of letting go. The iron tang of bloodoverwhelms my senses as I rip and claw at the bear. The woods fill with the sounds of a dying animal, though I’m unsure if they’re coming from me or the filthy beast between my jaws. I just keep moving, keep fighting, until the thing beneath me stills.

When I look up, there’s an angel framed in the broken window, her legs bare to the cold. My bloodied mouth falls open in a happy pant, and then the world goes dark.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SEBASTIAN

I awaketo the feeling of soft hands stroking my fur. The room smells like blood and honeysuckle, but for the first time in my life, I feel true peace.

Slowly, I peel my eyes open and look around. I’m lying by the fire in my room under a thick woolen blanket. The hand petting me belongs to Claire, and my fur isn’t fur at all. It’s hair.

I must have shifted in my sleep, because I’m lying on the floor buck naked. I try to move and wince as I stretch the fresh scabs that have formed along my sides and belly.

Claire gives a little gasp, her hands stilling in my hair. Then she yanks them out, and my wolf whines at the loss of her warmth.

When I look up, her face is pale, and her sea-glass eyes are wide and glistening.

I start to ask a question, but the words come out as little more than a rasp.

Claire hands me a glass of water, which I drain in a few gulps.

I’m suddenly ravenous, and my gaze snaps to the plate of sandwiches resting beside my mate.

“Your pack brothers said you needed to eat,” she says in a tremulous voice. “They said it would help you heal.”

My stomach grumbles. They’re not wrong, but I’m way too keyed up to eat.

“Ah, yes. Where are those tossers?”

Claire swallows. “The scary one didn’t say anything. He just . . . left.”

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