Page 56 of Marked For A Bite
But he could see the self-recrimination building in her expression, and the way she was already blaming herself for prioritizing his life over her father's rescue.
"I don't have any clothes here," Zoe said, suddenly seeming to realize their predicament as she glanced around the sacred clearing.
Logan's lips curved into the first genuine smile he'd felt in hours. "We can shift into our wolf forms. But I need you to shift first so I can secure some gear to your back."
He gestured to the scattered tactical equipment that surrounded them. Two Glocks, four knives, and various holsters—all essential gear that he couldn't afford to leave behind.
"So, you want me to play your pack mule right now?" Zoe's eyebrow arched in a way that made his wolf preen. Even nakedand covered in snow, she maintained that stubborn streak that had first captivated him.
"No. I want you to help me get us home safely," Logan corrected, standing and brushing snow from his skin. "Unless you prefer running naked through Granite Ridge territory where any passing patrol might get ideas."
"Well, when you put it that way."
Zoe's transformation was becoming smoother each time she shifted, her body adapting to the dual nature that had been suppressed for too long. Her wolf form emerged in a fluid display of power and grace, her dark brown fur with honey patches gleaming under the moonlight.
Logan worked efficiently, securing his shoulder holster with the twin Glocks across her wolf back, adjusting the straps to accommodate her smaller frame. "This might feel strange, but it won't hurt you."
Her wolf eyes met his with trust that still amazed him. After everything she'd been through—the attack at her home, the revelation about her father, and the dangerous rescue mission—she still looked at him like he could solve any problem and face any threat.
"Can you carry this in your mouth without the blade cutting you?" Logan held up the holster containing his father's hunting knife.
Zoe's wolf form carefully took the leather holster between her teeth, demonstrating the dexterity that came naturally to experienced shifters. She'd adapted to her wolf nature with remarkable speed, another testament to the power flowing through her bloodline.
Logan's own shift felt different now, enhanced somehow by their completed mate bond. His russet wolf form emerged larger and more imposing than before, muscles coiled with predatorygrace as he gathered the remaining three holstered knives in his powerful jaws.
Together we're stronger. The prophecy wasn't just about her special abilities—it was about what we'd become when we were finally united.
They ran through the moonlit forest with supernatural speed, their wolf forms moving in perfect synchronization across the mountainous terrain. Logan's enhanced senses mapped every shadow, every scent, and every potential threat as they crossed from Granite Ridge territory back into Silvercrest lands. The snow had stopped falling, but their breath still misted in the cold mountain air as they covered miles in what felt like minutes.
His cabin came into view just as the Blood Moon began its descent toward the horizon, the reinforced structure looking like the fortress it had become over five years of careful modifications. They shifted back to human form on his porch, their naked bodies steaming in the frigid air as Logan quickly unlocked the front door.
"Inside, now, before we freeze," Logan commanded, ushering Zoe through the doorway.
They dumped his tactical gear on the coffee table before heading to his bedroom for clothes. Logan pulled on dark jeans and a thermal henley while Zoe slipped into one of her sweaters, followed by her dark jeans.
She looks perfect.
Logan's backup phone rang before they'd finished dressing.
"This is Logan."
"Thank god, you're alive," Kieran's voice carried relief and exhaustion in equal measure. "We got everyone out. All twenty-five prisoners, including Zoe's father. Maya and Lena are treating the worst cases, but they're all alive."
Logan's shoulders sagged with relief. "How is Zoe's father doing?"
Logan glanced at his mate, who was hanging on every word despite only hearing his side of the conversation. Her hazel eyes burned with desperate hope and barely contained anxiety.
"Weak but stable. He's been asking for her," Kieran said.
Twenty-five years of imprisonment and experimentation, and the first thing he does is ask for his daughter. That's what a real father does.
Logan's chest tightened with an emotion he couldn't quite name. His own father had died protecting family, and seeing that same fierce paternal love extending across decades of separation hit harder than expected.
"Where is he now?"
"Rebel safehouse about ten minutes from your cabin."
"We're on our way."
