Page 8 of Hayden's Haven
“Hayden!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
The male punched her in the face. Her knees buckled as she tasted the coppery flavor of blood from her split lip and blackness filled her vision.
He kicked the back of her knees. Pain riveted outward from where her knees struck the ice-packed snow that felt as hard as cement. Another backhand to her face had her swaying before he grabbed her hair and violently yanked her head back. Mila clamped her mouth shut as the shifter unzipped his pants, pulled out his erect dick, and shoved it into her face.
“Open or I’ll cut you, deep. Too deep for your wolf to heal.”
When she turned her head to the side, he struck her again, sending her crashing into the snow-packed ground. Branches and rocks bit through her shirt and the cold sliced through her jeans. His hand grabbed her by her throat as he began to pull her onto her knees.
That’s when she caught a flash of white fur in the corner of her vision. A deep angry growl filled the air as the white wolf slammed into her attacker, causing her to fall back against her right side again. The white wolf sank his teeth into her attacker’s throat and squeezed until all she could hear was the faint wheezing, then none at all. The shifter never had the chance to shift. His death was swift and vicious, and well-deserved, though not easy to watch.
Mila’s vision grew hazy. With an odd detachment, as if she were watching the world through a glass, Mila struggled to stay conscious. The sleek white wolf circled the area one last time, securing the area, and then shifted.
Hayden, in all his glorious nakedness, squatted before her, cursing under his breath as he gently brushed a finger over her cheek, easing blood-matted hair aside. She tried focusing on his face, but the trees were spinning. Concussion most likely.
“Bloody hell,” Hayden said when she closed her eyes. There was something dark and possessive in the way he hovered over her, touching her with a softness that seemed surreal after the violence she had just witnessed. And yet his touch instantly calmed her.
She fought to stay conscious. As if being a weak shifter wasn’t enough, not being able to access her wolf’s ability to heal sucked. She could really use her wolf’s help right now, or at least some acetaminophen for the pain spreading through her body. Visions of Vance entered her head, and she jerked when Hayden touched her bound hands behind her.
“Only me, sunshine,” Hayden said with a calm voice.
She had called out to him, and he had come. He hadn’t left her, as Vance would have. Hayden had come for her.
He ran the pad of his thumb down her cheek. “Stay with me, Mila. I’ll get you warmed up soon.”
Warmed up? She could feel the snow melting through her clothes, soaking her. Strange how she hadn’t noticed her body shivering before he had said something.
Hayden cursed again as he pulled at her ties. She let out a stifled yelp as pain radiated up her arms, but she said nothing. She was wet, cold, and battered. He was trying to free her.
Her hands sprang apart as he finally cut through the ties. Then she was being lifted. Her head lobbed against a hard but very warm chest. She snuggled, trying to wrap herself around that source of heat. That heavenly scent of spring water returned, except she didn’t hear any water nearby. Why was she so cold?
Wait. She should know this. Years of medical school and years working at the free clinic in town had given her the information she needed to figure this out, except her brain simply wasn’t working right.
The crinkling of foil caught her attention as she was laid down on a bed of dried pine needles above the snow. Why was someone wrapping her in tinfoil? Oh, she could really go for some grilled ribs right now. She was starved. Her stomach lurched again. Okay, no ribs. Toast maybe. Her stomach rebelled, and she threw up.
She was turned on her side. Someone was holding her hair back and lightly rubbing her back. After her stomach emptied itself, Mila tried to lean back. Strong arms lifted her, moved her a few feet into the air and set her down again. She opened her eyes, long enough to see Hayden’s black eyes watching her, with a definite frown riding his square jaw. Such a handsome shifter, too handsome to frown like that. She preferred his quirky, flirty look, the one she had caught a glimpse of back in the bakery once or twice. Even that frustrated look of his when she had resisted his directions earlier was preferable to the dark, crushing scowl he now sported.
How had she thought he looked like Drake? Sure, they both had dark hair and dark eyes and the same jaw, but they were nothing alike. Hayden’s eyes held genuine concern even though she was nothing to him. Ah, but she was judging him by his wolf’s color again, assuming all white wolves had that sadistic, aggressive streak in them.
She had to start thinking of him as Hayden, the shifter who had done more than save her. After all, not many guys would hold a woman’s hair back while she threw up.
Mila closed her eyes, trying to withstand the wave of pain emanating from her ribs. The bastard had definitely bruised, maybe cracked, a few ribs. Every breath brought new pain.
Ah, there was that scent again. Water and grass. A sweet scent that reminded her of a valley of wildflowers. Hayden. She tried to smile at that, except her lip hurt too much.
She needed to forget about Hayden and how he had held her hair back. She was making too big a deal out of that small kindness. Damien had sent Hayden here to escort her to his pack. She was nothing more than a job to him. For all she knew, Hayden was no better than Drake. After all, Hayden’s wolf had shredded her attacker quickly and without mercy. . . like Drake had done to those hunters at the summit years ago.
* * *
HAYDEN
Ten fucking minutes. Hayden had been gone ten fucking minutes, and a shifter had found Mila, brutalized her, and nearly raped her. Hayden had misjudged the situation, believing he, Kate, and Mila had lost the men hunting them. One had slipped by, unnoticed, but that was all it had taken. Leaving the women alone, with only a gun to protect them, was beyond foolish. A gun was only good for distance. Once a shifter got close enough, got his hands on a person, survival, dominance, came down to brute force.
Mila lay on the ground with Kate bent over her, trying to assess the doctor’s injuries. Fucking hell. Mila was the doctor here. Hayden didn’t have a clue what to do for her and from the expression on Kate’s face she didn’t either.
When Hayden had carried Mila over to where Kate had been resting, she cried out in pain. Hayden was sure she suffered bruised, maybe broken ribs on her right side. Add to that the extensive damage to her face and wrists and Mila’s wolf had a lot of work to do to heal her.
His poor Mila. . . Hayden still couldn’t get the image of the shifter with his dick pressed up against her face, and his hand wrapped around her throat, choking her, trying to force her to open. A deep growl escaped Hayden’s throat before he realized what he was doing.
