Page 86 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

I don't think. I react.

I throw myself between them, meeting the wolf head-on. The impact is like being hit by a wrecking ball. My ribs scream in protest. Teeth sink into my side, ripping through fur and flesh. A hot, blinding pain explodes through me.

I don't care. I tear into the bastard's throat before he can do more damage. Warm blood spills down my muzzle.

Another set of claws rakes down my shoulder. A different loyalist—lean, fast, his eyes burning with fanatical rage.

I pivot, but my body is sluggish. The pain is slowing me down.

I hear Elara scream my name.

Then everything tilts sideways.

Something soft and warm presses against me.

I blink, vision sluggish. My body is fire, my blood thick with pain and adrenaline, and every nerve screams at me to stay down. But then I smell her—Elara.

"Elara?" My voice is rough, rasping through my throat like gravel.

She's holding me.

I'm barely aware of where we are—somewhere dark, away from the fight. Maybe a side corridor, maybe a hidden passage. It doesn't matter.

What matters is her hands on me, pressing against my wounds, trying to keep me steady. Her scent surrounds me, all-consuming. My wolf stirs beneath my skin, restless, hungry—not just for blood, but forher.

Her breathing is ragged. She looks at me, and I see the war in her eyes.

She's terrified.

Not of the fight. Not of the chaos.

For me.

The realization sends something sharp and primal through me, cutting through the pain like a blade. I'm burning. Not just from the wounds, not just from the adrenaline still pumping hot through my veins, but fromher.

"You're a reckless idiot," she whispers, but her hands tremble where they hold me. "You could have?—"

She doesn't finish.

I want to tell her I'd do it again. That I'd throw myself into a thousand fights if it meant keeping her safe. But the words don't come.

Because all I can focus on isher.

She's so close. Too close. Her body, warm and pressed against mine, is the only thing keeping me upright. Her breath fans against my neck, and the heat of her skin seeps into me, igniting something dangerous.

My gaze drops to her lips.

I shouldn't be thinking about this now. Not when we're in danger, not when we're barely surviving. Butgods,she's right there, and the mate bond is singing in my blood, and I swear I can feel her pulse racing just as hard as mine.

She looks at me, and for a second—just a second—I know she feels it too.

It's in the way her fingers tighten on my shoulders. The way her lips part, like she's about to say something but can't force the words out. The way her eyes darken, heavy-lidded, not with fear but with something else entirely.

Hunger.

It crashes through me so hard I almost forget to breathe.

Icouldtake her now. Right here, in this moment of desperation, of survival. I could press her against the rough stone wall, tear away the barriers between us, and lose myself in her. Claim her, mark her,ownher in every way that matters.

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