happened in a blink, leaving him disoriented for a second. Never had it been so fast, and he knew the woman was the reason. Vaguely, he heard one of the guys exclaim over the speed of his shift, but he lost the comment amid the overwhelming scent of the female his wolf sought.
There was nothing now but her. The need to find and protect the woman. She wanted him, had come to him. No one else. He had to find her, to know why.
Forgetting about the body, he honed in on Daria’s scent and bolted in the opposite direction of the trail, farther into the forest. She had discovered the body, and had run. He understood that something had frightened her into taking off, causing her to move in the wrong direction. Something more than just finding a corpse.
The tangible prickle was still in the air. Stronger now than before. He ran, the pain of his own injuries a distant memory, of no importance. Not when he was on the precipice of losing something monumental, something he couldn’t name. And if she didn’t survive—
No. That could not happen. He wouldn’t allow it.
He ran so fast, he almost tumbled headlong over the edge of the ravine she had told him about. Skidding to a halt, he scrambled back from the edge and then peered over. Stared into the gorge and wondered how far she had fallen. Where could she be?
Pacing the lip, he put his nose to the ground and searched. Up and down, again and again. Until finally, he found where she’d gone over. He felt her then, her life fading. Heartbeat slowing. How was this connection possible?
Sitting on his haunches, he let out a long, lonely howl. Then he plunged over the side and hit the rocky slope, sliding, aware of shouts from above. He almost lost his footing once or twice, but managed to control his descent. He was nearly to the bottom when he saw her.
Daria was lying wedged in a tight crevice, her arm sticking out at an impossible angle. Her clothing was torn and bloody. Scratches marred her arms and what he could see of her face. Long raven hair covered much of her features, billowing slightly in the wind. She didn’t stir as he rushed over. Didn’t move at all as he nosed her good hand, licked her face. Whining, he huddled as close to her as he could, his wolf taking charge of the man for the first time in his memory. In a heartbeat, in the wake of her suffering, he was lost to the beast within.
The wolf heard the calls from above, and tensed, growling softly. A menacing warning to those who approached. They would not get near her. He would not allow it. She suffered, and he along with her.
“You found her!” a dark-haired man said, moving closer. “Good work. Let me—”
Baring his fangs, he moved to place his body between the man and his female. Crouched, ready to spring, and rumbled a warning deep in his chest.
“Shit. Ryon, it’s me, Nick.” Holding out a hand, the man edged closer. “Ryon, get hold of your wolf.”
“We know, buddy. But she’s hurt and needs medical attention, remember? We can’t help her if your wolf won’t let us near her.”
“Christ, has he gone feral?” someone asked.
“No,” Nick said quietly, eyes never leaving the wolf’s. “He’s protecting his mate.”
“His
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Nick raised his voice, speaking urgently. “Ryon Hunter, do you hear me? Make your wolf stand down now or she’s going to die. Your mate will
Ryon struggled to gain control over his wolf, but forcing him into submission wasn’t easy. The beast was so enraged by his female’s suffering it was damned near impossible. But gradually, he exerted his will over the snarling beast and won the battle.
Sitting back, he let the shift flow and in seconds found himself in human form, blinking at the others. “Nick? What the hell is going on?”
“Later. Right now we’ve got to make sure she survives. I’m going to be honest and tell you there’s only one way to do that.”
“Which is?” He had a feeling he knew what his commander was going to say. His serious expression said it all before he even spoke.
“If you want Daria to live, you’ll have to bite her.”
With those simple words, Ryon’s life was changed forever.
Three
Ryon stared at Nick, heart thudding in his chest. “You mean claim her.”
“Yes. Give her some of your blood first, then the bite. If she’s going to survive, you have to hurry.”
There was no time to sit around debating how this one act was going to completely alter his life, and the beautiful young woman’s as well. No time to fear how much she’d resent him for playing God, not a second to lose agonizing that she’d hate him forever.
There was no choice, really. Because no way in hell was he going to let his mate die.
Working carefully, he helped Nick and Jax extract Daria from the crevice and move her to level ground, on her back. She was too still, her tanned face gray, lips turning blue. The biologist was clinging to her life thread with every ounce of strength she possessed, and her core of inner strength gave him hope.
He wasted no time in shifting one finger into a claw, using it to slice open his wrist while Nick pried open her mouth. Blood welled and he placed his wrist to her lips, squeezing to hurry the flow. The crimson liquid dribbled between her lips, a macabre sight and yet a lifesaving measure. If only her body would accept the offering. Embrace it. Heal.
“Come on, honey,” he encouraged. “Drink this.”
For several long moments, nothing happened. Ryon stroked her throat, encouraging her to swallow, to no avail. Despair began to weigh heavily on his heart, much greater than the sadness of not being able to save a stranger. His wolf howled inside him, forlorn.
Ryon and his wolf had scented their mate. If Daria died, so would they.
“Daria, please,” he whispered. “Work with me. Live.”
She twitched, her head moving slightly to the side. Then she coughed and swallowed. He let out a sigh of relief as she repeated the action, licking her lips to get the life-giving blood that had spilled there. Her eyes remained closed, but he felt it. A spark flared within her, a tiny light of hope that reached out to him tentatively, seeking an anchor. Meeting the light halfway, he pulled it into himself, holding on tight.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Nick’s voice was urgent. “Bite her now, Ryon. Bind her to you, or she won’t survive.”
“Where? She’s hurt all over.” Desperate, he scanned for a good spot.
“Anywhere. Her wrist will do for now.”
He’d been alone for so long, had never dreamed he’d find a mate. A wave of disappointment washed over him that it must happen here, like this, in front of his Pack brothers, as he fought for her life. Then he shoved down the self-pity. There would be time for intimacy later. He should be grateful fate had sent her into his world.
Gently, he lifted her good arm and brought her wrist to his lips. His fangs lengthened and his wolf growled in anticipation. Reining in his aggression and possessiveness wasn’t easy, but he managed to sink his canines into the tender flesh without ripping or clamping down too hard.
Instantly, his tongue was flooded with ambrosia. He had a mere five seconds or so to marvel at the rush that quickened his pulse before his world detonated into a brilliant solar blast that almost knocked him backward.
