The gun shook in Devon’s hand. She’d shot it hundreds of times but never at a living target and never in the dark. All she’d known was that Liam was in trouble. She didn’t think, didn’t consider her actions, didn’t weigh her options. The only thing she’d been certain of was that if she didn’t shoot, he’d die. She’d made the decision before she’d even pulled the gun from her coat pocket.
Her aim wasn’t stellar but she’d managed to strike the bear with at least three of the six shots she fired. Fifty percent sucked, but at least she’d managed to buy Liam a little time. Over the din of the storm a chorus of howls could be heard. Devon’s heart beat a wild rhythm in her chest as fear transformed to hope. She hopped down from her perch, the snow cushioning her fall. Liam was hurt. He needed help. And she’d be damned if she didn’t go to him when he needed her.
A pack of wolves burst through the tree line. They kicked up snow as they ran, fanning out as they emerged onto open ground. They rivaled Liam in size, in speed, and in strength. A pack of werewolves had answered their Alpha’s call. It was a mesmerizing sight Devon knew she would never forget.
The bear was wounded but not immobilized. It let out an enraged bellow that gave Devon a start and sent her heart up into her throat. She sensed the animal’s hatred, its loathing, as well as its fear. The bear wanted to stand and fight, to finish Liam off, but saw the pack approaching and knew his odds. He was injured and had no choice but to retreat. A part of Devon wished her aim had been better. Rather than put an end to Liam’s troubles, she had a feeling the turn of events had just made them worse.
The wolves broke off into two groups. Five ran straight for Liam while the other four veered off to chase the bear. Devon wasn’t quite as agile or quick as she waded through the deep snow to Liam. Her breath sawed in and out of her chest and her heart beat painfully against her ribs from stress and exertion.
“Liam!” She fell to her knees beside him. Her arms went around his wide neck as she pressed her face into the warm fur. The scent of blood turned her stomach and she swallowed hard against the bile that rose in her throat. The snow that surrounded him was painted in hues of black, brown, and gray, the blood that he’d spilled distorted by the ever-darkening night. It was a scene out of a horror movie, and tears pricked at Devon’s eyes as she realized she might lose Liam after having only just found him.
“Oh my god. Liam, please.” A desperate sob built in Devon’s chest. “Please don’t die.”
Several warning growls stole Devon’s attention. She looked up to find herself surrounded by giant wolves. Her protective instinct kicked in and she brought up her arm to point the gun in a wide sweeping semicircle. She had no reason to doubt this was Liam’s pack, but that didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down.
“I-I’m his mate,” she stammered. If they were werewolves they’d have to understand her, right? And they’d know the implication of her words. If they were enemies … well, they were probably both about to die. In which case, she knew she’d done everything she could.
One of the wolves leaned in toward her. Its snout wrinkled as it ran its nose from her head down her torso and sniffed. As though satisfied, it turned to the others in the group before letting out a low howl.
Devon’s left hand dove into Liam’s fur. She kept the Beretta firmly in her right, her wary gaze trained on the many sets of feral eyes watching her. The wolves showed no signs of aggression but neither did they back down. Likewise, Devon planned to stay by Liam’s side until she could be assured of his safety.
This would all be so much easier—albeit a little creepier—if the wolves could talk.
The waning moon peeked out from behind a break in the clouds and the jagged crowns of the distant Sawtooths, illuminating the snowy ground with a silvery light. The storm’s rage had begun to calm. The wind no longer howled in her ears and fluffy white snowflakes drifted around her like goose down. Her eyesight failed her in the darkness, a disadvantage she knew the wolves didn’t share. Several yards away, footsteps crunched in the snow and Devon’s muscles bunched with nervous energy. Whoever was coming had better be ready for confrontation, because she wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Gotta love a tough girl,” a sardonic voice spoke from the darkness. “But unless there’s silver ammo in that clip, it’s not going to do you a whole hell of a lot of good.”
Whoever he was, he didn’t sound hostile. That didn’t mean Devon was about to let her guard down. She and Liam hadn’t covered silver bullets yet. For all she knew, the guy could be lying. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not. I’m not opposed to doing a little myth busting if you come any closer without telling me who you are.”
His amused laughter reminded her of Liam’s. The knot in her stomach loosened but she didn’t lower the gun. “I can’t wait to hear the story of how you two got together.” Devon wished she could see through the dark to put a face with the voice that spoke to her with familiarity. His lighthearted amusement quickly vanished as he asked, “How bad is he?”
He could be an enemy. Trying to get Devon to reveal something, to confirm Liam’s weakened state. Her gut instinct didn’t think so though, and she knew that Liam would encourage her to trust that feeling. “He’s bleeding badly.” Devon choked on the words as a fresh wave of fear clogged her throat. “I can’t see the wounds. I don’t know if he’s healing.”
The crunch of footsteps came closer. “I’m coming to check him out,” the disembodied voice said. “But I’d feel a hell of a lot less twitchy if you’d lower that gun.”
“Who are you?” Devon thought it odd that he was the only man in a group of wolves. Then again, she was sitting smack dab in the middle of them, too. Maybe this guy was someone’s mate?
“Owen Courtney,” he said.
“You’re Liam’s cousin?”
He laughed. “Looks like Liam’s been busy the past twenty-four hours. Yeah, I’m his cousin.” A tall form stepped into view just behind the semicircle of wolves. It was too dark to make out his features, but his stature certainly reminded her of Liam. “And you are…?”
“Devon Kincaid,” she replied. A sense of pride swelled in her chest as she lowered the gun to her side and said, “I’m Liam’s mate.”
Owen let out a low whistle. “Damn. ‘Busy’ is an understatement.”
Owen walked past the barrier of large wolves. He squatted down beside her, and in the low light Devon took in the man who bore a resemblance to Liam. A sense of kinship rose within her and once again she trusted that instinct. “Is he going to be okay?” She brought her gaze up to Owen’s and held it for a brief moment.
Silence descended as Owen bent over Liam’s massive form. Devon’s breath raced in her chest and her heart beat a mad rhythm against her rib cage as she waited for Owen to inspect Liam’s injuries. A year seemed to pass in a matter of minutes before Owen leaned back on his knees and turned his attention back to Devon.
“He’ll live.” Relief squeezed the air from Devon’s chest and she swallowed down the sob that threatened to escape her lips. “Reinforcements are on the way with snowmobiles,” Owen said. “You’d think the Alpha would be the one to stay out of trouble. But Liam’s always been the exception to the rule.”
Devon liked Owen. She brushed her fingers through Liam’s silky fur and said a silent prayer of thanks. It had been one hell of a day and she hoped it was going to get easier from here. She heard the buzz of snowmobile engines in the distance. She was exhausted, freezing, and didn’t think she could take another step if she wanted to. “Is there room for me on one of those sleds?” she asked Owen.
He flashed a mischievous smile. “Liam would have my hide if I left his mate behind,” he said with a laugh. “Welcome to the family, Devon. Hope you’re prepared for a wild ride.”
She didn’t know if she was prepared or not but she’d give it her best shot. She returned his smile and hoped it offered some small reassurance. She’d do whatever it took to adjust to this new life. Anything for Liam.
* * *
For the second time in forty-eight hours, Liam woke in a bed he didn’t remember putting himself into. This time, however, he wasn’t alone. A warm body pressed against his back, one slender leg slung over his calf. He reached back and slid his palm over his mate’s silky, naked flesh. She’d stayed by his side. Protected him. Devon had gone through the wringer and proved that she was strong enough, stalwart enough, and stubborn enough for this life.
Liam couldn’t be more pleased.
She stirred beside him. It had been one hell of a night and he knew she was exhausted. Careful not to wake her, Liam eased her leg from on top of his and slid out from between the sheets. Dawn hadn’t yet broken but already he heard the stirrings of someone in the kitchen on the ground floor. Liam eased open a dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of workout pants that he slipped on before heading downstairs.
Owen sat at the island bar in the center of the gourmet kitchen, working on a cup of coffee. Liam went to the cupboard and grabbed a mug to pour himself a cup. “I’d say you look like shit, but that would be an insult to shit,” Owen remarked.
Liam snorted. “You’d know. Since you regularly aspire to look like shit.”
Owen gave a humorless laugh. “The tracking party lost Christoph’s trail. We’ll find him, though. He won’t be able to hide for long.”
“The Boise County Sheriff was alerted to a dead man at Kirkham hot springs in Lowman yesterday. Colorado plates on his car. I haven’t had time to investigate, but I’m thinking it was someone from the Elk Mountains Range Territory. One of their Sentries who’d been sent to fetch him.”
“Shit.” Owen’s disgusted tone echoed Liam’s own feelings. “Christoph is definitely calling you out.”
“He’ll come to us.” The grim reality of their situation settled on Liam’s chest like a stone. He’d brought this trouble to the pack’s door and it was time to face the music. “Or more to the point, he’ll come to me.”
“Not before he makes you suffer.” Owen’s gaze met Liam’s. “And now he has a way to cut you deep.”
Devon. If any harm came to Liam’s mate it would cut him to the quick. Christoph knew this and he wouldn’t waste any time delivering the blow.
“This is a disaster,” Owen said. “You know that, right?”
Liam raked his fingers through the length of his hair. He was still sore from the injuries he’d sustained last night but it was a drop in the bucket compared to what Christoph could do to him if he managed to get his hands on Devon. “She’s safe here,” Liam said. “We can protect her here.”
Owen scoffed. “She’s not safe anywhere and you know it.”
It was a hard truth he didn’t want to admit, but Owen was right. Until Christoph was dead, Devon would never be safe.
“She’s tough, I’ll give her that,” Owen said. Liam took a seat on the bar stool next to his cousin and stared down into his cup. “She has no idea what you’re going to ask of her, does she?”
“No.” A human would never survive in their world. It was too wild. Too violent. And much too dangerous. The only way Devon would make it was to become a werewolf.
Owen’s gaze slid to the side. “What if she chooses to remain human?”
Liam sipped from his mug. That choice had been taken from her the moment Liam’s wolf recognized her as his mate. “She’ll come around.” Liam’s eyes drifted shut for a moment. Hell, even he didn’t believe Devon would ever come to terms with her inability to control her fate, despite the inevitability of it.
“You’d better hope so,” Owen said. “And soon. I can guarantee you Christoph isn’t going to give us much of a breather. And you can bet he’s going to bring reinforcements next time.”
Owen was right. The shifter wouldn’t give them time to regroup or lick their wounds. There would be no grace period. No time for Devon to weigh and contemplate her decisions. She might grow to hate him for forcing this life on her, but it was a chance Liam had to take. He’d suffer her hatred. He’d suffer whatever the hell he had to in order to keep her alive.
“We’ll be ready for him,” Liam said. “No more running. No more hiding. This has to end.”
“Finally.” Owen held up his mug in a silent toast. “You’re a shitty diplomat anyway, and a much better warrior.”
It was an unfortunate truth. Liam had always thrived on the battlefield. He’d never been much of a negotiator, and Devon would soon learn that when Liam made a decision he expected his orders to be obeyed. He’d do what he could to convince her. To woo her. To assuage her fears. At least as a werewolf, Liam would be afforded the opportunity to wait out her anger whether it took years or decades. As a human, all Liam would be guaranteed was his mate’s death.
The rest of the morning passed in silence, both Liam and Owen lost in their individual thoughts. It wouldn’t be long before the rest of the pack began to stir for the day and the quiet calm he felt right now would evaporate under a flurry of activity.
“Good morning.”
Liam looked up to find Devon standing at the edge of the kitchen. She wore her long underwear and a T-shirt. Her mahogany, sleep-tousled hair framed her face. She gave him a wan smile and her hazel eyes still bore a weary glaze. It was a good thing she was strong, because Devon’s trials were only about to begin.
“And that’s my cue to GTFO.” Owen gave Liam a playful knock on the shoulder as he pushed out his bar stool. He crossed the expanse of the kitchen to where Devon stood. “Morning,” he said with a wink as he walked out of the room and left Liam alone with his mate.
“He looks a little like you.” Devon shuffled farther into the kitchen, her expression unsure. Liam left his perch to cross the kitchen and retrieve another mug from the cupboard. He poured Devon a cup of coffee and set it in front of her along with cream and sugar, much like she’d done for him just yesterday.
“Our fathers were brothers,” Liam remarked. “I’m better-looking though, right?”
Devon smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He got away, didn’t he? Christoph.”
Her fear soured the air and Liam’s nose wrinkled. Making her a werewolf was the only option. There was no other way. “He did,” Liam said. “But you have nothing to worry about, love. I promised you I’d keep you safe and I meant it.”
Devon turned to face him. She reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. Liam leaned into the contact and allowed the comfort of his mate’s touch to wash over him. “Who’s going to protect you?” she asked ruefully.
Liam reached up and placed his hand over hers before bringing her palm to his chest. He placed it over his heart and kept his gaze locked with hers. “You will,” he assured her. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a pretty good shot?”
A half smile flirted with her full lips. “You’re trying to placate me again, aren’t you?”
“That depends,” Liam said. “Is it working?”
Devon smile grew. “For now,” she replied. “But only because I’m too exhausted to argue.”
Liam bent his head to hers and kissed her once. Slowly. He pulled away to find her expression soft and a spark of heat ignited in her hazel eyes. Their trials were only about to begin. Until then, Liam wanted Devon happy. “Let’s go back to bed.” His body responded to the sweet scent of her desire. “I want to show you my appreciation for saving my life last night.”
Devon’s hand fell from his chest to the waistband of his workout pants. Her fingers dipped below the fabric and Liam sucked in a breath. “This is becoming a habit, you know,” she teased. “Me saving your life. If you’re not careful you’re going to be indentured to me.”
Liam would take these pleasant, peaceful moments with her while he could. Soon enough, her affection would turn to anger. “I’m already yours,” he replied. “Let me take you to bed and prove it to you, mate.”
“Mmmmm.” Devon’s approving hum vibrated over Liam’s skin. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a morning.”
Their lips met again, and Liam’s tongue darted out to taste her. “Neither can I,” he said against her mouth. “Or a better way to spend an afternoon.”
Devon smiled. The expression was pure seduction. “Lofty goals,” she said. “You had a rough night. Think you’re up for it?”
He took her in his arms and she melted against him. He couldn’t quash the fear that shot through his chest like the scorch of a silver bullet. He’d spend the day making love to her, solidifying their bond. The road ahead was a bumpy one and he needed every advantage he could get. “Oh, I’m up for it. I’m stronger than you think.”
“Yes, you are,” Devon said with a wicked grin. “Come on, werewolf. Take me back to bed and show me how strong you are.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. Devon squealed with delight as Liam scooped her up into his arms. His mouth met hers in a ravenous kiss. He’d spend today like tomorrow didn’t exist. Today was for pleasure. For happiness. For the sheer joy of being alive. Tomorrow, they’d begin to face their trials. And Liam would make sure that they faced them together.
He’d do whatever it took to keep Devon.
He refused to let her go.