Page 29 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Chef

For one heartbeat, there was only darkness and the ragged sound of Ivy's breath. Then the emergency strips flickered on, bathing the room in hellish red.

The door exploded inward.

They came in a wave. There were six men, armed with silver-knuckled fists and jagged, wolfsbane-coated blades. I leaped into action, shifting in mid-air. Bones cracked, fur erupted, and then I was a wolf, all fangs and fury.

Chaos. My wolf form, large and monstrous, crashed into two of the men. Knives scattered. Pans clattered. Teeth met flesh. A howl. A scream. We rolled, a tangle of teeth and claws. Blood sprayed. Focus. Ivy.

Denver's snarls echoed from the hallway as he tore into the stragglers. Brody was a blur of motion near the sinks, his fists a deadly metronome. But my focus never wavered from Ivy.

She'd grabbed a cast-iron skillet from the rack, swinging it like a mace. It connected with a thug's temple with a sickeningcrunch. The man crumpled.

Pride flared through the bond. My mate was as fierce a warrior as any wolf.

A seventh dark figure slid through the fray. Tall. Lean. Moving slickly on all fours.

Boris.

He moved like smoke, slipping past Denver with the grace of an alpha wolf.

He lunged for Ivy.

My heart stopped.

The howl that ripped past my throat shook the walls. Her scent and her heartbeat were my compass in the chaos. I didn't think. I moved, launching myself across the room, but Boris was faster. He swiped at her, but she dove under him, rolling to her feet. She reached into her waistband and pulled out the gun I gave her. Her hands shook as she aimed the weapon loaded with wolfsbane-laced bullets.

Boris skidded. For a heartbeat, he hesitated.

I struck.

My fangs closed around his hind leg, crunching through tendon. He snarled, whipping around to slash at my eyes. Pain exploded across my muzzle, hot and wet.

Ivy screamed my name.

He wheezed and lunged at Ivy again. Ivy twisted, driving her heel down onto his leg with a snap.

A gunshot cracked.

"Chef's tip," she hissed. "Never corner a woman who's spent a decade dodging grabby line cooks."

Blood gushed from Boris's chest. He staggered, shifting back into his human form, the power of his wolf fading from him and flickering like a dying light.

My wolf didn't wait.

Imoved.

One second, Boris was reaching for Ivy. The next, my jaws closed around his throat. He screamed, the noise dying into a wet gurgling rattle.

The taste of his blood, copper and rot, flooded my mouth. I shook him like a ragdoll, his dying cries music to the predator in my soul.

"Cam, stop!" Denver's voice echoed in my ears, but it was not enough to deter the raging blood lust. I wanted Boris torn to shreds for daring to threaten my mate.

Ivy placed a hand on my nape. "Cameron, please." Her soft voice cut through the haze like a ringing bell.

I dropped Boris. He hit the ground with a wet thud, but I was already at Ivy's side, shifting back mid-stride. My hands framed her face. Her skin was warm beneath my palms, her breathing was ragged but steady. Her eyes, wide and bright in the dim red glow of the emergency lights, met mine. There was no fear in them. Only resolve.

"Are you hurt?" I demanded, my voice rough, still edged with the growl of my wolf.

She shook her head, her hands coming up to cover mine. "I'm fine." Ivy's fingers trembled against my blood-slicked cheeks as she searched my face. "But you're hurt," Ivy whispered, her thumb brushing the torn flesh where Boris's claws had raked across my brow.

---