Page 24 of Alpha Geek

No. No. No!This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose him before they mated. Her leopard was in a state of agony. Somewhere inside, the petals of her rose-colored dreams were being plucked. Slowly. Painfully. Growling viciously, she took two slow steps forward. The wolf mimicked her actions, keeping the distance between them.

A howl carried across the distance. For a moment, Amelia contemplated the possibility that there were more of them out there waiting in the shadows of the storm. Tripp's silence initiated her leopard's dark urge for vengeance.

The wolf looked at her, the wind whipping his dark fur, a flurry of blood and snow. His leg twitched; he was going to run. She also knew that she could catch him if he did. The wolf turned, sprinting away into the darkness. She watched his retreating figure until it was swallowed by the storm.

Once she was sure the shifters were gone, she rushed to Tripp’s side. Shifting, she dropped to her knees. A fresh well of tears streamed down her face. She quickly placed a hand on his neck, covering the bleeding wound as she put her head down, listening for his heartbeat. Amelia strained her ears, ignoring the sickening chill of his pale body.

This is all my fault. I should have stayed closer to him.

He's not dead yet, but he will be if we don't act fast,her leopard growled.

Amelia closed her eyes, severing the sadness sweeping through her being. Her leopard was right. Now wasn't the time for emotions. Tripp needed her.

She assessed his body. Right now, the bite on his neck and the deep gashes on his abdomen were the most threatening. Her backpack was nowhere in sight. She had dropped it when she had shifted. She’d get it later.

Luckily, Tripp's backpack was still securely attached to his body. Amelia searched for the first aid kit inside. She didn't have much time; Tripp had already been in the death zone far too long.

She got to work bandaging them, doing her best to slow the blood loss. Once she was sure he was wrapped as warmly as he could be, she started to plan an escape.

She peered up into the darkness, squinting her eyes through the flurry of the violent storm. Normally, moving in the dark was almost as easy as moving during the day. One of the perks of being a feline shifter. However, the rate of the storm made it almost impossible to keep a clear image for farther than a few feet.

Amelia slipped the backpack back onto Tripp. She hoisted his body into a sitting position before crouching in front of him. Hooking one arm under his legs and the other between his arm and neck, she hoisted him up.

Tripp's length, in combination with the thundering storm, made her legs sway like a deer in its first moments of life. She tilted her torso, testing the newfound weight until she regained balance. Keeping her knees slightly bent, she extended her senses.

She drew strength from her leopard, melding logic and instinct.One step at a time,she coached herself.She extended her senses, following her leopard's natural sense of direction back the way they had come. Her eyes scoured the powdered ground, looking for the backpack she had lost.

She could feel her desperation start to grow. She needed that backpack just as much or more than she needed to get Tripp to some kind of shelter. She pushed harder, extending her legs as far as they would go. Her arms shook as the sensations of pins and needles attacked the balls of her feet.

“We're almost there,” she encouraged herself and Tripp if he could hear her. “Nearly out of the death zone. Feel the air?”

Amelia inhaled as something black and rectangular peaked out of the rapidly increasing snow. She set Tripp down gently, breaking into a run. Digging her hands into the fresh snow, she wrenched her backpack out. She gave it a quick shake and pulled out some clothes that were not warm enough for a human but would be enough for her. Running back to Tripp, she reorganized herself for the trek with her backpack secured to her front.

They were out of the death zone.

Now they had to get out of the storm.

Amelia followed the slope of the mountain until peaks made of ice and rock began to jut through the surface.

“Keep going,” she grunted, though it came out more as a leopard growl, a mix of urgency and excitement.

They were close. Adrenaline rejuvenated her worn-out body. It bewitched her mind. Nothing mattered. They were close. She could save him. She crouched deeper and pushed harder while her eyes scanned the mountain that threatened to bury them.

Ten minutes later, she spotted a skip in the rocks. She beelined for it, her leopard fueling her with the last bit of strength she needed to cross that dark seed of hope. She only hoped it would be big enough to shield them from the cold.

Thankfully the mouth of the cave was large enough for her to fit through while carrying Tripp. She sighed when the resistance of snow had left them. She walked deep into the cave, turning on a flashlight. Far enough from the cave entrance that the wind could no longer reach them, she laid Tripp on his back and stripped him of his wet clothes.

Her leopard rasped sorrowfully at the sight. A fist gripped her heart as she did her best not to jostle him too roughly.

His skin was blue and purple at the tips of his nose and fingers. The chill set into his bones. She moved slowly, fearing she would break his rigid limbs. Working around the slashed and mauled skin of his chest, she paled at the soaked bandage.

The bleeding had barely slowed. She had no idea how deep his wounds were, but she knew the loss of blood made the thought of it slowing just as frightening. She tossed his ragged clothing to the side and turned back to his persevering silhouette.

He hadn't moved since the attack. Hadn't grunted or moaned in pain. There was no sound at all. She would have thought he was dead already if it hadn't been for his faint heartbeat. Even that small puff of life drew dangerously more silent as if each of his breaths was a step away from her.

Amelia shuddered, too tired to be strong. Or to stop the tears. The truth stalked her, a predator she refused to acknowledge. It left her soul as cold as Tripp's skin felt. She was withering along with him. Being forced to watch her mate slip between her fingers before she had ever gotten the chance to hold him.

She reached for her backpack, ignoring the tears that sent fresh chills through her. It wasn't over yet. Amelia pulled out a hard metal box, not much larger than a pencil case. Placing it aside, she yanked out the thermal blankets from both of their backpacks.

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