crawl right out of it, and I clawed and scratched at my arms, my neck, my abdomen. My temperature rose, higher and higher until I thought I would self-combust. My skin was on fire, and I began to pull at my clothes. No matter that it was October in the Highlands; I was hot. I didn’t have time to yank them off, either. I felt my skeleton give way, the popping and rubbing sounds reverberating inside my head. I cried out in pain, and in my peripheral vision I saw movement and knew it was Lucian. He stopped abruptly, and didn’t advance farther.
My heels and long bones shifted, elongated, contorted, and just when I thought I couldn’t take the pain and heat a second longer, I fell to the ground, let out a low, long bay, and it was over. I leaped up, shook my body, and met the silver gazes of six other wolves, their shaggy dark coats glistening in the moonlight.
We ran that night, my new brothers, my mate, and I. We ran from the west coast of Scotland clear to the east, along the shores of the North Sea, and it was invigorating, mind-freeing. My new body rocked with sensations, and I wanted to keep running. I saw everything through my new eyes, and it was as though I was seeing the world for the very first time. Lucian ran beside me, his silvery blue gaze watching me closely. We spoke to each other in our minds. He never left my side. At some point, exhaustion overtook me. We made it home, and I fell hard asleep.
When next I woke, I was in my human form, tucked closely against Lucian’s body. The sun had not yet risen, and I felt invigorated. I wanted to explore the shore, so I slipped from our bed, quickly dressed, and headed outside. No one else stirred. I was the only one awake.
The brisk Highland air greeted me, along with a healthy dose of mist. I found it strange not to be cold, but my core stayed over one hundred degrees, so there was no need for a jacket. I breathed in the air, sweet with clover and something else I couldn’t name, and took in my surroundings. On the left side of the gravel lane, a meadow, and at its edge, a dense copse of wood filled with towering pines and oaks.
Then I saw it. Through the slender ribbons of mist I saw something white move into view. I stared, my newly sharpened vision trained on the spot. Before my brain registered what my eyes saw, I knew. Pax. He waited for me. Without thought, I took off toward him at a jog, and by the time I reached the wood line, I was at a full run. Pax had disappeared.
I eased through the trees, the canopy above keeping out any light that may have filtered in, and searched for Pax. Deeper into the wood I moved, determined to settle things with my old partner. Surely, no matter his fate or mine, we could come to terms. We’d been partners. We’d sort of been friends. He’d watched out for me. I knew, despite the awful dreams, he wouldn’t hurt me.
In the next instant something heavy slammed into my body, and I was knocked hard against the base of an aged oak. I was turned abruptly, and when I looked, the man who pinned me against the tree was not Pax. I frowned, shoved, and cursed. “Get the hell off of me,” I growled and shoved my knee into his balls. “Now!”
He sucked in a breath but quickly recovered. “Oh, no, love,” he said, his accent thick, his tone full of hatred. He pushed me hard against the tree. “We’ve been waiting for the chance to get at Lucian MacLeod and his brothers, and you’re it.” Without warning, he punched me—caught me right in the jaw, and my head snapped back and slammed into the hard wood of the tree.
I glared at him. “He’ll kill you,” I said, my pitch lowering.
The man laughed. “Right. We’ll see about that.”
Four other men emerged from the wood. One of them was Pax. He ambled up to me, his eyes laced with disgust. He pushed the guy away from me and leaned close to my ear. “You did this to me, newbie,” he said, just like in my dream. “I can never go home now. I’ll never see my wife again, thanks to you.” His breath brushed my neck. “I’ve half a mind to just rip your throat out now instead of letting these assholes use you to bait your mate.”
I met Pax’s hard glare. “Do it,” I said. “Stop talking about it and do it.”
A low growl escaped Pax’s throat, and in the next second he shifted into his wolf form. His fangs, dripping with saliva, hovered close to my ear, my throat. In my head, I imagined myself in my wolf form; nothing happened.
In the next second, in a flurry of fur and fangs, a pack of nearly black wolves entered the wood at full speed. The men with Pax shifted, and the fight began. I was knocked into a tree, where I fell, crouched to the ground, and watched.
I couldn’t make myself change. I was helpless.
The melee was horrific. Bones crunched. Blood. Cries of pain. No human words met my ears, but I heard them in my head.
Then, a large wolf with a band of white on his chest charged me. It was Pax. I knew it. And I was no match for him. I rose, my back against the tree, and kept my eyes trained on my old partner.
Just before he lunged, a large black wolf leaped from out of nowhere and slammed Pax to the ground. They fought; fangs gnashed, massive claws raked, bodies smashed into each other. The black wolf was Lucian—about that I had no doubt. With a final agonizing cry, Pax’s neck was broken, and Lucian—God, it was awful—tore into his throat.
Then it was over.
Lucian moved toward me, shifted, and stood naked before me. He was covered in Pax’s blood. Anger radiated off him. Anger and relief.
“Let’s go,” he said, and grasped my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “This is over,” he said, and squeezed my hand. “For now.”
Together, we walked back to the hall, and Lucian bathed and got dressed. Lucian’s brothers cleaned up the aftermath, and Lucian explained to me what was to come. I can’t say that I was shocked.
“I’m verra sorry about your partner,” he said, folding me into his embrace. He rubbed my back, a rhythmic motion that calmed me instantly. “He was no longer himself—you understand that?”
I nodded against his chest. “Yes.”
He looked at me for a moment, searching my eyes. “There are others. From all over the world, no’ just Scotia. As you worked for WUP, your talents will be trifold as a MacLeod warrior. We go where we’re needed. We fight to protect innocents. And you are one of us now, Gin. Your skills will grow and you’ll become as fast, as strong as I.” He kissed me then, long, erotic, slow. When he pulled back, his gaze all but worshipped me. “But you’re not there yet, and I’ll no’ take any more chances with your life. You’re mine,” he whispered against my mouth, then brushed his lips across mine. “And I’ll no’ leave your side until you have full control over all of your new powers.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I canna lose you, Gin. You’re mine forever.”
Suddenly I’m Riley again, and I fall back as Scotland and wolves and blood and bone-crunching fade away, and the interior of Castle Arcos emerges once again. I stumble, shake my head, and press my fingers into my eye sockets to try and stop the vertigo from sending me sprawling. “Damn it,” I mutter, and then feel two strong hands steady me.
Surprisingly, they aren’t Eli’s.
“Please, lass,” a deep, heavily accented voice says quietly in my ear. “Please.”
I turn and meet the intense gaze of Lucian MacLeod.
A fast flash of his body morphing painfully into a wolf scrapes behind my eyes. I see it. I feel it. It’s like…I’m him. For only a brief second. Then he steadies me and turns me loose.
Lucian is a werewolf.
And so is Ginger.
The sincerity in Lucian’s gaze nails me. Paralyzes me. His words sink deep into my psyche, and never have I known myself to fall so hard for a plea as I was falling right this very minute.
“I’ll think about it,” I say to Lucian.
His gaze lingers, and I can only conclude that he’s trying to see if I mean what I say. Finally, he gives a slight nod and moves away.
“But,” I say, looking directly at Jake Andorra, “I want to know more about…your organization. As in, everything. As in, what would be expected of me.”
