Snowflakes built up on my white-blond coat, adding to my camouflage as I blended in with the wintery forest. I stood still, silent, searching the nonexistent breeze for a scent. The tingle I’d felt earlier was back and much more potent. Two hundred yards away, the unmistakable headlights of a dark-colored Jeep lit up the snowflakes like sparkles. The passenger door swung open. A blond male jumped out. Then, the Jeep hit a deep stretch of snow and came to a sudden halt, the front bumper buried and the tires spinning.

I knew this male. I knew his scent, stance, and so many other things about him he never wanted me to know.

He plowed through the knee-deep snow, shouting, “Desarae!”

My brother’s scent hit me like a slap in the face. He couldn’t smell me, but he might have sensed I was near. We’d always had a twin thing...until he’d broken it.

“Desarae!”

I wanted to open my mouth and greet him, run to him, throw my arms around him and cry like a newborn. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after what he’d done...what he’d said.

Deck, you overbearing, dick-waving jerkface! You are not allowed to change the rules of our non-relationship every time you come home!

I might have needed my twin brother, but he had made it plain he didnotneed me. Ever. His choice.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

On my next inhale, something—someone—I’d never scented before came to me on the barely-there breeze. Rich, earthy, comforting—the smell of a pine forest in the height of spring when the new cones begin to form and the soft bright green needles emerge from the tips of branches.

“Desarae!”

The crazy, rapid beating of my heart drowned out Deck’s desperate calls.

The driver’s side door opened. Another male slid out of the cab, his boots sinking deep into the snow. He was taller than Decker, with dark, wavy hair drifting past his broad shoulders. His eyes didn’t follow my brother. He seemed to search the forest in my direction, as if he could sense my hiding place. He shrugged out of his heavy jacket and let it fall to the ground, then yanked his shirt from his jeans and pulled it up and off. Deep shadows defined his heavily muscled chest. Crouching, he worked at his boot laces.

“Desarae, dammit, answer me!” Deck turned and slogged back toward the Jeep.

I slipped through the powdery snow on silent paws until I stood directly in front of the mysterious male. His head shot up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. I had the strangest feeling I’d known this male forever, maybe in a hundred other lives, and we’d been searching for each other.

I took on my human form, the snow a sudden icy shock on my knees, feet, and hands.

The male’s gaze slowly roamed my face and moved down my neck to my breasts. His cheeks flushed a rosy pink, as if he’d never seen a naked female before. His lips moved, but he failed to speak.

And, dear gods, I wanted to hear his voice.

But other more critical issues took precedence.

“They’re dead.” The words came out in a tight whisper.

In the next second, he was on his knees in front of me. His heavy breaths formed white, misty clouds as his eyes continued to search my face. He reached out to me, his fingers beckoning me forward. And, I needed him to hold me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my cold skin against his warm chest. His arms came around me, and even though the heat of his body flowed through mine, I couldn’t stop shivering.

“My pack.” My teeth chattered as I whispered. “So many dead.”

He pulled me in tighter. His lips touched my temple, then my cheek, and then the corner of my mouth. A hot skitter of desire surged through my body and made me gasp. I felt a strange, protective rage come over him as if it had bled from my body into his. He took my face in his big, rough hands. A smoldering fire seemed to settle in his dark eyes as he gazed into mine with a determined intensity that matched my own.

“Whatever it takes. I will kill them. I promise.” His whispered words were a solemn vow. “I will kill them all.”

An accent touched his deep, rich voice like he’d come straight from the heart of Texas. And I loved the sound of it.

But...how did he know? Could he smell the rogues?

“Des,” Decker said from behind me, his tone annoyed. “What the hell have you done to your hair?”

The male’s fangs elongated as he stood, bringing me along with him. Anger lit his eyes and, for a second, I thought he’d beat the hell out of my brother. Unfortunately, my brother would enjoy it.

A deep, dark growl rumbled out with every word the male spoke. “Deck, you better change your—”

“What the fuck is that?” my brother demanded.