Page 90 of Stealthy as a Wolf

Grady dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Pack.”

“While you and Boone take care of Maggie, Matty and I will get rid of the bodies and interrogate our survivor.” His lips peeled back in a bloodthirsty snarl at the prospect of getting answers, his blue eyes gleaming with the promise of retribution.

With a slap on my back, he left to join the others to fuss over our mate.

While I was pissed that he got to have all the fun, I kept my protest to myself. If it was a choice between spending time with Maggie or torturing some half dead wolf, it was no contest.

I trusted Grady to get the answers we needed.

He was granting Boone and me time alone with Maggie, and I was grateful. My beast wouldn’t be calmed until we could see for ourselves that she was safe and whole.

Since our claim wasn’t official, our beasts remained on edge.

Until we made her ours, our tigers would never rest.

I forced my muscles to unlock, then turned away from the sight of our little pack and went to the bathroom to do as I was told. Because if I went to Maggie without calming down first, I was afraid I would claim her for my own without giving her a say in the matter, and I refused to do that to her. She’d had too many choices taken from her already.

I tested the water while the tub filled, then ransacked the bathroom and bedroom for something she could wear, grabbing any and all medical supplies that I could find along the way.

When the bathroom door opened, I kept my back turned, fussing with the supplies I had organized on the counter. I stiffened when I caught the scent of blood mixed with oranges. My cat growled at the combination, torn between being concerned and full-blown lust.

“Burke?” I stiffened at the raspy sound of her voice saying my name, and a shudder went through me as my tiger demanded that we claim what was ours.

Mate!

I leaned over the countertop, pressing my hands flat against the granite as I struggled against the need to take what was mine. I tensed when I felt her near, panting as I fought to control my baser urges. My claws were pressed against the stone surface to keep me from snatching her up against my chest and never letting her go.

“Are you okay?” Maggie shuffled closer, and I was unable to resist taking a look at her, peering at her reflection in the mirror.

And my control snapped.

“No, I’m not fucking okay.” I whirled and face her, my chest heaving as I snarled my pent-up rage. “You ran, and I couldn’t protect you!”

A kaleidoscope of emotions passed over her face before her expression turned serene. It made me want to fucking throttle her, and I gritted my teeth to keep from doing just that.

Because once I touched her, all rational thoughts would vanish.

I didn’t like feeling so out of control.

I liked rules.

Structure.

But Maggie seemed to function best in pure chaos.

I dragged my fingers through my hair, barely resisting the urge to yank out the strands in sheer frustration. When Maggie took a step toward me, I stiffened and studied her warily, not sure what to expect. Women were unpredictable creatures at the best of times, and Maggie was even more so.

I gritted my teeth against the need to rage at her for daring to run off and getting hurt, and it was all I could do not to shake her for so foolishly, and unnecessarily, putting herself at risk.

Didn’t she understand that we were nothing without her? That we would do whatever it took to keep her safe?

Before I could utter a single word, she played dirty and wrapped her arms around me. Every part of me stiffened, and I could do nothing as my brain struggled to process the fact that she was alive and safe in my arms.

Her nearness slowly defused my anger, but the fear took longer to fade, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forget it completely.

My beast had no such qualms, relaxing into a puddle at her touch. A purr rumbled in my chest so loudly that it sounded like a broken motorcycle. I mentally cursed, unable to stop the blush that seared my cheeks. I looked everywhere but at her, feeling so exposed that my emotions were like a raw nerve.

Almost afraid she might run, I gingerly wrapped my arms around her delicate form.

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