Page 6 of Marked For A Bite
Mate.
That whispered word echoed through her consciousness again as she watched him scan the street through her bay window. The way he positioned himself—never directly in the line of sight and always at an angle that provided cover—spoke of experience with danger that made her pulse quicken for entirely different reasons than fear.
When his large hand had covered her mouth, electricity had shot through every nerve ending like she'd been struck by lightning. Her skin still tingled where he'd touched her, and something deep in her chest pulled toward him with a magnetic force she couldn't explain or resist.
"What did you mean by manifesting?" The question tumbled out as she hurried toward her bedroom, muscle memory guiding her to the closet where her backpack waited.
"Later. Move faster."
His deep voice carried absolute authority that should have rankled her independent spirit. Instead, it sent an unexpected heat spiraling through her. Everything about this stranger screamed alpha male—from his commanding presence to the way he owned every inch of space he occupied. Even his stillness contained coiled energy, like a predator calculating the perfect moment to strike.
Zoe stuffed clothes into her backpack without really seeing what she grabbed. She raised her voice enough so he could hear her down the small hallway. "I don't even know your name."
"Logan," he replied, his voice carrying naturally down the hall toward her bedroom.
The response was short and efficient. Probably the longest answer she'd get until he decided otherwise. The man clearly wasn't one for small talk or explanations, but something about his presence made the constant whisper in her head quiet for the first time in days. As if her wolf—her wolf? Where had that thought come from?—recognized him as safety.
Her phone charger went into the bag next, followed by her mother's letter and the few photographs she couldn't bear to lose. The birthmark on her wrist throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and she caught herself glancing toward the living room where Logan maintained his vigilant watch.
Why do I want to trust him? He broke into my house.
But rational thought warred with instinct. Every cell in her body urged her to follow this dangerous stranger wherever he wanted to take her. The need felt primal and undeniable, like recognition coded into her DNA.
"How do you know what's happening to me?" She called out the question while pulling on her tennis shoes, her fingers fumbling with the laces.
"Because I'm like you."
Those four words stopped her cold. "You mean you also have?—"
"Have moments where my body changes rapidly? Where every sense goes haywire and I want to tear apart anyone who threatens me?" His voice carried grim understanding.
Zoe finished tying her shoes with renewed urgency. If Logan understood what was happening to her, maybe he could help her control it. Maybe she wasn't going insane after all.
The sound of breaking glass echoed from somewhere in the house.
"Shit." Logan's voice turned deadly. "Time's up."
Heavy footsteps crashed through her kitchen, and Zoe's blood turned to ice. Multiple voices, harsh and unfamiliar, spoke in clipped tones that sounded military.
"Target is here. Scent trail is fresh."
"Check every room. She's manifesting, so approach with caution."
Logan appeared in her bedroom doorway, every line of his body radiating lethal intent. "Window. Now."
The transformation in him stole her breath—gone was the controlled stranger, replaced by something predatory and absolutely terrifying. His eyes had shifted from deep green to gold, and she glimpsed teeth that looked far too sharp.
"Who are they?" Zoe whispered, shouldering her backpack and clutching her phone.
"People who want to hurt you for what you are." Logan moved to her window, his hands working the latch with practiced efficiency. "And they just made a very big mistake."
Logan pushed the window open, his hands moving with a fluid quickness. The cool evening breeze rushed into her bedroom and Logan's scent drifted towards her—mountain rain and something wild and masculine.
"Out. Now." He positioned himself beside the window frame, one hand extended to help her.
Zoe glanced back toward her bedroom doorway where heavy footsteps thundered closer. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she swung her leg over the windowsill, the backpack's weight pulling at her shoulder. Logan's grip on her arm burned like electricity, steadying her as she dropped into the small garden bed beneath her window.
She turned back, expecting him to follow immediately. Instead, Logan pivoted toward the approaching threat with a predatory grace that made her breath catch.
