Nik swore as Alara’s teeth bit down onto his hand. His skin was tough but not that tough. Damn.

Pulling her to him, he said quietly into her ear, “It’s me, it’s me. Sssh. It’s okay.”

“Nik?” Her teeth let up, and she turned around to gape at him. “What are you—? How did you—?”

“Your scent, love,” he said tersely, cutting her off. “Plus, I’m an Alpha, and you are part of my pack. Though you’re blocking me for some reason, I can still sense our connection, dull as it is. I’ll always be able to find you.”

She frowned at him, and he frowned right back. “Care to explain what the hell we’re doing here?”

Her eyes looked away, and he growled a sigh of exasperation. Running a hand through his hair—which he was still surprised he was able to do, considering how long it’d been since he’d last had hair this long—he said, “It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to pry at his mate. It would only cause her to clam up tighter, and he’d worked so hard this past month at getting her to trust him. He wasn’t about to break that fragile trust now by being a prick.

Someone shouted from beyond the cornfield, and both their heads jerked around as they listened. “What’s going on?” he said quietly, tensed for battle. “There’s an alarm going off.” He listened more closely. “Wait, are they looking for you?”

“We should go,” she said, eyes scanning the rows of cornstalks.

He grabbed her and shook her. “What the hell, Alara? What’s going on? What have you gotten yourself into? You’re naked, covered in blood…” His hands began to shake.

“I had to Shift, and I can’t talk about it now!” she snapped, jerking free. “We have to get out of here!”

Before he could speak, she took off at a run toward the road. Growling curses under his breath, he ran after her until they came to the road.

More footsteps and voices followed behind them, and they did not sound happy. They had to get the hell outta Dodge before whomever she’d pissed off found them.

When she started to go left, he grabbed her hand. “Hold up. I’m over here.” Leading her down the road to the right, he pulled her down a gravel driveway to an old farmhouse. There sat his Porsche, gleaming silver and looking very out of place considering the surroundings.

Unlocking it with a beep, they got in and quickly buckled up. Nik punched the start/stop button and burned rubber out of the driveway, tires squealing and gravel pitching every which way as they gunned it down the highway.

“There’s a change of clothes, and a towel, I think, in the backseat.”

Alara immediately went for it, quickly pulling on a large navy-blue T-shirt so she didn’t flash whomever they might pass. She tugged on a pair of oversized pants without attempting to get the blood off. It looked like a crapshoot anyway. Most of it appeared dried.

The engine growled as it switched gears, and Alara laced up a pair of sneakers that looked a size or two too big. Nik made a mental note to stock more feminine clothing in the cars. They did have more female wolves in the pack now. While they weren’t a high-maintenance lot, he was certain they’d appreciate clothes that fit halfway right.

He sniffed, his nose shriveling up. “Your scent is off. It’s… sour. Like magic.” He’d always thought magic of any color made the air smell like sunbaked milk. It hadn’t been as noticeable outside, among the open sky and smells of ripe corn and freshly tilled earth. But in the confinement of the car, it was downright overpowering.

Alara didn’t speak, staring out the window.

He looked at her. Her hands were gathered in her lap.

And they were shaking.

He instantly softened, concern taking over. “Alara—”

“Don’t,” she said quietly, closing in on herself and turning farther away from him. Her hair ducked in front of her face, hiding it from view. “Please don’t.”

He wasn’t about to give up that easily. “What were you doing in a place like that?” Gently. Nonaccusatory.

She shifted her weight, leaning farther away from him.

Okay, so this was not working. Deciding to switch tactics and wait for her to open up, he looked away, and a glimmer caught his eye. At her hip was a dagger he hadn’t noticed before. He’d been too focused on all the blood coating his very naked mate.

It looked exactly like the dagger that prick king had tried to use to kill Alara…

“Where did you get that?” he started to ask but stopped. Prying clearly wasn’t getting her to open up any faster. If anything, it was driving her farther away from him.

Though patience wasn’t his strong suit and it killed him to do so, he turned around and faced the road. His hands flexed against the steering wheel in a weak-assed attempt to rid them of tension.

Magic stench. Ritualistic daggers. Secretive mate.

Something had to be wrong for Alara to lock down like this.

Was it him? He glanced at her sidelong. She still hadn’t looked at him, still continued staring out that window as if the cows and corn were fascinating.

His heart sped up. What had he done wrong? How had he made her not trust him so soon into their bonding?

“I wish,” he said quietly, “you would let me in, Alara. I wish you would let me help you. I wish you would trust me to let me help you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, her voice rough. Weak.

Beyond the point of caring.

A lump formed in his throat and a knot in his stomach.

“It means since we’ve been back, you won’t open up to me. You never have. Not truly. And I want so badly to help. Really, I do. But you won’t let me.”

She flinched. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to speak. Her mouth opened, she licked her lips—and then nothing. Not one damn word.

He was so fucked. God, why did he screw up every relationship he’d been in?

She’s going to abandon you. Just like Elijah, Verika, Gage, your father—

Shut up! he growled at his inner voice of doubt. Just shut the fuck up about stuff you have no idea about.

No, he couldn’t think like this, not now. Their bond was still there. Something had weakened it, yes, but it wasn’t broken.

Not yet.

And he wouldn’t let it. He would never willingly let Alara go. Doing so would be like ripping out his own heart. Unless she wanted to leave him. At which point, he’d let her go because he loved her so damn much, and he heard that was the thing you did when someone wanted out. If you love someone, you’ll let them go, and all that shit.

That thought alone made his heart start to tear and made him go cold all over.

“I’m sorry,” Alara whispered. “You’re right. You’re right about it all. I haven’t done a very good job of letting you in. For so long at Court I was an outcast. I was taught from a very young age you couldn’t trust anyone. That if you let them get too close, they’d use your weaknesses against you. They’d hurt you.” A shudder rolled through her, and she hugged herself.

He started to reach for her but stopped. God, it was hard wanting to comfort his mate but being afraid to touch her for fear he’d drive her away. “I understand completely.”

“I know.” She finally looked at him, those gray eyes shining, and took his hand and squeezed.

He squeezed back, holding onto her hand as if it were a life raft.

A phone call on the dash broke the heavy silence. Gage’s name read on the screen, replacing the name of the song that had been playing on the radio. Growling because he knew he had to take the call, he pressed a button on the steering wheel with his thumb. Bluetooth put the call through from his cell, and Gage’s voice came over the car speakers.

“This a bad time?” Gage asked.

“Any time’s a bad time lately,” Nik said tensely. “What’s up? You sound ragged.”

“I haven’t gotten much sleep.” A yawn followed to punctuate the fact. “I’ve sent some contacts out into the field to gather intel on what happened with Malachite. Figured it would help you, since I know you have a lot on your plate.”

Nik snorted. “You’re running a nation of werewolves and trying to prevent World War Witch, and you say I have a lot on my plate?”

“Well, you’ve done a lot for me. I’ve never really been in a big enough position to do much to return the favor. But I haven’t forgotten how much you’ve helped me, and I’ll never be able to repay you for keeping me alive in Malachite’s pack.”

Nik’s throat grew tight. Taking a deep breath, he said gruffly, “So what’s the intel? I’m guessing you found something if you called.”

“You remember Marcus?”

Marcus… “Yeah, Gramps. Used to be a loner in the Moonstruck Pack. He’d been there through two Alphas and left right after Malachite took over and went homicidal.” Nik had gravitated toward the man, had found a kindred spirit in him. He got the whole loner aspect, not being much of a social butterfly himself. The two rough-around-the-edges men had clicked. Right before Marcus left, he’d told Nik about sensing the growing storm and how he wanted to get out while he still could. Nik was still relatively new to the pack and very unschooled in the inner workings of pack politics. Marcus had warned him and Gage not to get involved with the Moonstruck Pack, that things were about to get real ugly, but they were desperate. No one else would take them in, not wanting two strong, capable men who’d potentially be a threat for the rank of Alpha.

Besides, they’d wanted a fresh start. And boy, had they gotten one. A slate wiped clean only to be bathed in blood.

“I had one of my guys track him down, since he seemed to know everything about everybody,” Gage said. “He said he wasn’t in on the killings of Malachite’s family, but he gave me the names of those who possibly were.”

“Does he know for sure?”

“No,” Gage breathed with disappointment. “He only heard Rick say ‘Gonna make him pay.’ He says the pack was on hard times, and a group of them had been killing off of the property line for food, though the Alpha had warned them not to. Anyway, before long, the papers were circulating about vicious wolves running amok, killing farmers’ livestock. Hunters started taking to the woods, shooting every wolf on sight. One day a pup was killed—Rick’s little girl.”

“Jesus.” Nik ran a hand over his mouth. He knew the man wore a locket that had been hers. It had her picture in it, and every now and then he’d catch him staring at it with a sad look in his eyes. “So you think this was a revenge killing? That Malachite was the one who shot Rick’s pup?”

“That’s my theory.”

“Thanks, man. It gives me a hell of a lot more to go off of than I had a few minutes ago.”

“No problem. I’ll let you know if I find out anything else useful. Still dealing with the DPI?”

“Yeah…”

“Uh-oh.”

“That’s an understatement,” Nik muttered. His eyes flashed to a sign along the interstate for hotels and gas. “Look, man, I’ve gotta get off the freeway here. I’ll hit you up later. Thanks again.”

Gage didn’t question him. The two were used to cutting conversations short, knowing when to keep it strictly business and when it was okay to linger. Today was not one of those days.

The call ended as Nik signaled, pulled off the highway, and took a right at the stoplight.

“Where are we going?” Alara asked, looking around at the small town they were pulling into.

“We need to lie low. Those guys back at the plant sounded pissed, and I don’t want to get stuck in a high-speed chase and endanger civilians.”

They didn’t say another word as they pulled up to a gas station nestled between a couple of old brick buildings and parked the car in the alley, out of sight of the main freeway. Across the parking lot sat a run-down farmhouse that’d been converted into a bed and breakfast. Donning sunglasses, hats, and a hoodie for Alara to cover up the blood on her arms, Nik tugged Alara into the B & B and checked for a vacancy. They were in luck—there had just been a cancellation. Or so the clerk said. It didn’t appear to be busy. The place was a ghost town.

After getting the key and heading up to the second story, Nik shut the door behind them.

“Are we staying here for the night?” Alara asked.

“No. Just to hide out for a few hours. The window overlooks the main drag through this town, giving us a clear view of the parking lot. We’ll know if someone fishy comes looking for us. Once nightfall has settled in, we’ll head back to the manor.”

“We should warn them.” Alara bit her lip. “The warlock I lifted this off of”—she gestured to the dagger—“he recognized me.”

“Shit.” Running a hand over his face, he called his Beta and delivered the news to be on alert for intruders and to call him if said intruders invaded their property. After hanging up, he paced and at last rested his head against the warmed glass of the window. So far so good, but he knew that optimistic bullshit wouldn’t last long.

Tense silence stretched between them. It felt as if the air were made out of cement, it was so thick. Nik didn’t face Alara for a long time. Finally, he turned around, his face a mask of sorrowful resignation as he gazed at the mate he longed to hold but felt he couldn’t touch. He didn’t know her. This wasn’t his Alara, this angel of death and shadows.

He silently went to the bathroom and walked out with a dampened washcloth. Kneeling before her, he proceeded to wash the blood from her face.

She watched him silently, fear and tenderness in her eyes. That glassy indifference was starting to crack. “Are you still mad at me?” she whispered.

Unable to take it anymore, he swallowed hard, dropped the rag, and took her into his arms. She instantly clung to him, digging her nails into his back. They held each other, trembling.

“I can’t feel you, through our bond,” he said, his deep voice ragged. “I mean, I can, but it’s not the same. You’re so silent. Why are you shutting me out, baby?”

“I don’t mean to.”

He leaned back, cupping her face in his hands. She’d started to cry. “Then why?”

Her bottom lip trembled as she searched his eyes. She looked absolutely miserable.

And scared.

He frowned. “What is it, baby? What aren’t you telling me?”

She shook her head, more tears falling.

“You can tell me.” He started to stroke her hair, but she smacked his hand away, rising quickly and taking a few steps away from him.

“No, I can’t, Nik! I can’t—oh God.” She swayed, nearly going down, but he rushed to catch her. She tried pushing away, but he held firm. “All those men… I killed…”

He went still. “What men? Baby, what are you talking about?”

“I murdered them, Nik!” she whispered, lifting her red-rimmed eyes to his. “I slaughtered them because they were in my way. And… and… I enjoyed it.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m despicable. A horrible person.”

“Were they armed?”

“Yes. They tried to stop me.”

He held her tight. “They tried to kill you.”

“Yes. At least, I think they would have. I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know.”

Her body shook with sobs, and for a brief flickering of an instant, he felt her grief open up the channel between them.

And not just grief—regret. Anger. Confusion.

All the things he’d felt the first time he’d taken a life.

“Since the dawn of time, it’s been kill or be killed.” He kissed the top of her head. “You did nothing wrong.”

“How can you say that? I’m a horrible person.”

He winced, hating the stain killing someone had left on her sweet soul.

His beautiful, innocent Alara. Forever marked by blood and death.

“I’m a killer,” she said with quiet darkness. Her tears had dried, leaving her eyes red and her skin damp. Her face was blank, as if all the emotion had drained out of her.

He cupped her face and lifted it so her eyes met his. “Listen to me. You did what you had to do. There is nothing wrong with protecting yourself. Sometimes in life we have to make hard choices in unfair circumstances. Yes, those people had families. Yes, they had regular lives to get back to. But so did you. They knew that when they took the order to kill you. They were prepared to die.”

“That doesn’t erase the wrongness of what I’ve done.”

“No. Nothing ever will. But you have to forgive yourself for being selfish, for fighting back. Because I can guarantee you those men, if involved with Mistress Black, which I take it they are if you have that dagger, wouldn’t have given your death a second thought. You have to let it go.”

They both breathed heavily in the sudden silence, digesting this. Alara cleared her throat and stepped back, hugging herself. “I need to think.”

Nik’s hands lingered in the air where her face had been before finally dropping to his sides. His spine went rigid, and his self-doubt flared. “Don’t shut me out, Alara.” He reached for her, and she stepped back, out of his grip.

It was like a slap to the face. His cheeks burned as blood rushed through them. “Have you changed your mind about our bond?” he asked, his voice cracking on the end.

“What? No.”

“Is there someone else?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why? Why are you keeping me at a distance?”

“I’m trying to protect you.” She immediately bit down on her lip so hard she drew blood. Her eyes widened, as if even she was surprised by her actions.

“Protect me? From what?”

“She can’t tell you,” Alara snapped, eyes flashing silver before she whirled around.

Nik froze. He hadn’t imagined that. He fucking hadn’t. All this time… those people back at Crescent Manor.

And that voice. She hadn’t spoken with the fear and sorrow she had earlier. This voice had been cold, sharp.

Not hers.

Watching her warily, he lifted a hand toward her shoulder. “Alara?”

Her head suddenly jerked to the window, and she crossed over to it, peering into the street below. “We have company.”

Freaking A. Exactly what he needed right now. Then again, having a punching bag to vent his frustrations out on might not be such a bad idea.

Alert and focused, Nik joined his mate at the window and looked out onto the street below. Several black vehicles were pulling up to the inn, coming to a screeching halt as doors flew open and men who looked as if they’d just gotten off death row poured out. Nik sensed the warlock before he saw him, and he did not like what he felt. This guy was powerful—a Red Warlock. And he looked pissed. He was a bit thinner than the others and not quite as bulky. Plus, he had on a suit. Judging from the way the others scrambled to open his car door, he was clearly the leader of this little band of misfits. He cupped a glowing red orb in the palm of his hand, his mouth barely moving with muttered words as he followed the others inside the building.

“Tracker spell,” Nik said grimly. “That’s how they found us. We’ve gotta go.”

“Jump through the window.”

Nik paused, about to turn around. He looked at his mate as if she’d lost her mind. “Seriously?”

“They’re coming up the stairs,” she said with irritation. “That door is our only other exit, and the other rooms might be locked. Even if we make it to them, we’ll be in the same predicament, stuck with either a window or a door that leads to the enemy. There aren’t a lot of places to hide here. So that leaves the window.”

Nik was all for a little James Bond action, but the thought of sending his mate flying out the window made him nauseous. “But what about you?”

She smiled wickedly. “What about me?”

Next thing he knew, the door behind them was being hammered on by a pair of fists or maybe a boot.

Alara backed up and ran for the window. There was the sound of shattering glass, and she was gone.

Eyes wide at what his ladylike princess had just done, he glanced at the door. The lock was starting to crack the doorframe. It wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Fuck me,” he muttered then bolted for the window as the door flew off its hinges.

Gunfire blasted the wall around him as he zigzagged and leapt through the window.

His fall was broken by the roof overlooking the porch. He slid down it and landed on his feet in a crouch on the ground.

“Come on!” Alara yelled from their car, which she’d pulled up to the curb.

He frowned. How in the hell had she gotten it so fast?

The stench of magic stung his nose as he got in, and she sped off.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded. “I think I have a right to know, considering I was just shot at.”

She smiled faintly. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

The growl of engines fell in line behind them as several black vehicles appeared in the rearview mirror.

“Shit,” Alara muttered, switching gears. The car surged forward as she fed it more gas, and she wove around cars. Here, the highway only had two lanes. He gripped the leather seat as she passed another car, missing a honking semi by mere feet.

He looked at this woman beside him, this alien creature.

Where had Alara gone?

Where was the woman who chastised him for swearing too much at formal events? Who teased him if his bowtie was crooked? Where was the lover who tenderly whispered his name as she raked her manicured nails down his back?

Where was his mate?

Something popped, and the back end of the car spun. Gritting his teeth, he held on to the “oh shit!” handle as Alara fought for control of the car. Pieces of tire flew away from the rear passenger side of the Porsche, and he saw a man with a gun smile at them from the vehicle directly behind them. While admiring that it was a damn good shot, Nik couldn’t help but sense that they were royally fucked.

“Shit!”

He looked up—right in time to see an SUV ram into them.

The impact rattled his bones. The screech of metal, the sensation of the car pitching into the ditch and flipping. The world spun in a mixture of green and blue as the sky and ground tumbled around one another before the car at last came to a stop, upside down.

His vision blurred as he blinked rapidly. It felt as if someone were squeezing his head like a piece of fruit, threatening to squash it at any time.

Sounds cut in and out of clarity. Behind them, back toward the highway, several cars screeched to a halt. Doors opened, and footsteps thundered toward them.

He glanced over at Alara. Blood dripped down her chin from some wound he couldn’t see. Her eyes were closed.

Heart instantly in his throat, he rasped, “Alara?”

She didn’t respond.

Darkness pulled at him, lining his vision with pitch black, but he refused to go under. Not yet. Not before he saw to his mate’s safety.

Reaching out with their bond, he heaved a sigh of relief when he felt her life force. Unconscious but not severely wounded. And definitely not dead.

Though the guys gathering outside their wrecked car might be about to change their luck.

Struggling with the seat belt that was apparently stuck in its buckle, he gritted his teeth as he saw them lift their guns to his vehicle.

No. No, not like this. Their lives were supposed to end on a porch of a little farmhouse, somewhere far in the country of some backwoods town no one had ever heard of. Where the politics of the Underworld couldn’t get to them, and they could live out the remainder of their lives in peace while sipping sweet tea or lemonade or whatever the fuck it was old people drank.

“No,” he growled, still jiggling the seatbelt. “Give, damn you!”

From the road, Nik heard the wail of police sirens.

“DPI!” someone shouted, and the crowd dispersed like a herd of antelope that had just spotted a leopard.

Tires shrieked as they drove off, and the sirens drew closer.

Alara, was all he thought before giving in to the lingering darkness, unable to hold out any longer.

The sensation of being safe wrapped around him.

Which was really stupid, wishful thinking. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that they were never truly safe.

Not until Mistress Black was dead.