by Eliza Gayle
Malcolm gripped her hand and pulled her to the far edge of the tiny room. His head whipped around and his eyes glowed gold. “What?” she mouthed again.
He didn’t answer her right away instead his head turned to the left and right while he scanned the space above their heads. She heard nothing. Apparently satisfied that it was clear, Malcolm reached into the darkness and a small square door opened and a faint light filtered through the room. He pushed her through the space and quickly stepped through himself, only stopping to close the hatch behind them. He took the lead and Chey stayed on his tail. No point in getting separated now.
They were in a small underground tunnel that forced her to stoop as she walked. The smell seemed even worse in here with rotting vegetation lining the walls. When this was all over, she’d need an hour-long soak and some bath salts from hell to wash this stench away. About forty yards from where they’d exited the tunnel ended. The exit was covered by thick brush covered in brambles but she could see plenty of daylight on the other side, as well as hear the faint sounds of water. A stream probably.
Malcolm reached in front of her and ripped a hole through all of the debris. Her lips curled into a slight smile as she watched his naked ass. With every new flex of muscle she grew turned on. Soon he’d notice and then where the hell would they be? Suddenly, despite her usual comfort with being nude she was getting damn sick and tired of being naked.
“You need to shift before you go through the hole. There is a modicum of cover on this part of the property but it’s not going to do much good if Ben is watching. We’re going to have to make a run for it.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something about this little exit sooner? What was the point of waiting and risking being caught?” Chey grabbed onto the annoyance and let it build. Better anger than arousal.
“Because that’s exactly what they were expecting and I’d bet Ben had the perimeter covered.”
“So if that’s the case why go now?”
“Don’t you feel the tension around the house? Enough time has passed that they are starting to believe we got away. They’re restless and ready to leave.”
Chey had her doubts about his reasoning but her own animal was getting edgy. She didn’t want to stay still any longer. Better to make a run for it and let the chips fall. They had the advantage of Malcolm knowing the area. “Are you going to be able to—”
“Shift? Yeah. It’ll probably still hurt like a bitch but it will get easier.”
“Then you go first.”
Malcolm shrugged and the air shimmered around him. Bones popped and muscles stretched but there were no cries of agony this time. Either he’d found a way to suck it up or he’d been right and this time was easier. In seconds, the heavy head of the black cougar turned and stared at her. His golden gaze settled on her, making her body heat against her will. Would there ever come a time when she didn’t respond to him? She doubted it. From the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d been lost. His strength mesmerized her and his scent called out to her, but it was always the raw dark emotion that she saw in his eyes that made it impossible for her to turn away. She didn’t understand it, doubted she ever would. Still it haunted her.
Chey blinked her eyes against the past memories and focused on the now. She called for her cougar. She’d need the extra speed to escape. Escape. What a joke. Where exactly would she escape? Malcolm seemed hell bent on keeping her…at least until she told him the truth. Then what? It would always be Malcolm she ached for, no matter how hurt or angry he made her. A hard shudder worked up her spine as the change took over and she fell down on her hands. She lifted her head and once again met the golden gaze of her mate. As soon as they got clear, she’d have to sit him down and define what she thought of being a mate for him. There were just some things he needed to get out of his head, and the sooner the better.
To her surprise, he nuzzled against her fur. A low purr rumbled through her. What the hell? A fucking purr. Chey took two steps away from Malcolm and hissed in warning. They didn’t have time for this. He looked at her with what she would have sworn was a mocking grin before turning and leaping through the exit. Chey followed suit and wanted to cry when the fresh air hit her face. Yes!
Malcolm moved in a blur and Chey took off at a dead run to keep up. She followed him, the freedom of a run taking over everything else. The warm breeze across her fur caught her by surprise when she sailed over the many fallen branches. For a second, she’d almost forgotten the danger they were in until she heard the sound of voices drifting through the leaves. Her muscles jerked and her head turned in the direction of the talking. For a split second she lost her concentration and she landed on a branch far too small to hold her weight. The resulting crack of it breaking underneath her might as well have been a loud signal flare saying “here we are.”
She froze, afraid to move and give away her position until a low growl sounded ahead of her. Malcolm. She met his gaze and somehow she read his meaning. He wanted her to run. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest while she debated for a few seconds more. The voices she’d heard had ceased and the forest had gone deathly still. There were too many damn predators in this area. The smaller wildlife didn’t love that any more than she did. The whole situation with Malcolm made her question everything. He wanted her trust. He asked for too much.
Chapter Thirteen
Malcolm sensed the instant her mind had given into the fear. She was one of the strongest women he’d ever met, but her inability to trust belonged on his shoulders. They didn’t have time for her to think about the right decision so he ran back to her position and nipped at her neck—a little harder than she’d like.
She hissed and snarled but at least he had her attention. He bit again. This time she got the message and took off running in basically the direction he’d been going. Despite the sound of his heavy breathing, the eerie calm in the air unnerved him. Every instinct in his body screamed in warning. Ben was close. Too close.
Dammit, Chey!
A gunshot tore through the trees without warning. Malcolm ran harder but it was too late. Pain crashed through his hip, a flash of heat searing through his legs and back. He fought the overload of sensation and attempted to power his hind legs harder. Fresh agony ripped through his insides, frying his brain and nearly taking him down. From a deep well of reserves he’d not accessed in a very long time, he pulled the energy to keep going. Mate. Have to protect her.
He cursed Ben and Chey both. One of these days, hopefully sooner rather than later, he’d turn that bastard into the hunted and see how he liked it. Shooting in the direction of a cougar’s mate was more than enough reason to get you killed. He listened for pursuit and heard nothing beyond the blood rushing in his ears. Fuck.
Malcolm kept running. For how long he had no idea. It took every ounce of concentration he could muster just to put one foot in front of another while trying to keep pace with Chey. She moved fast too. He’d intended to lead his mate to safety but she’d surprised him with her knowledge of the area. So far she’d not taken a single misstep. Until now. She veered off toward the mountain instead of the deep forest that would take them to clan land. Exhaustion had begun to set in and he couldn’t last much longer.
He tried to growl but it came out more like a croak. He had to get her attention. Malcolm stopped, took a deep breath and forced out the pain and weariness and focused on his mate. He couldn’t leave her unprotected. He needed to shift and see about getting the bullet out of his hip so he could heal. The familiar power skated up his spine and the change swept over him hard and fast despite his injury. It was amazing what a body could take when it came to the need to protect. He gathered his voice and yelled as loud as he could, then fell over, his lungs laboring for breath.
She came back for him as the woman. “Malcolm, what the hell? Is this what you’ve become away from the—oh my god! What happened? Is that a—You’ve been shot.”
“Yeah,” he groaned.
“And you’ve been running for hours? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“We weren’t safe. Had to get away.”
She knelt down beside his hip and touched his burning flesh. “I can’t believe they shot you. I swear when this is over I’m going to kill him myself.”
Malcolm forced himself not to grin. Pain be damned. It was well worth it to see the concern etched on her face. “Get in line,” he grumbled.
“We’ve got to get the bullet out so you can shift again. Dammit. We should have done this hours ago. Good thing you’re already hurt or I might’ve kicked your ass.”
“Nice to know you think so highly of me.” He winced when her fingers pressed down on the edges of the open wound.
“I’m going to need something to get this out.” She stood and turned away, surveying the area.
“I think you should—”
“Just shut up. I’m really pissed off right now and I need to think.”
Malcolm clamped his jaw shut and stopped talking. He didn’t feel like arguing at the moment. Spots swam in his vision and nausea curled in his stomach. He’d lost a lot of blood on the run and he needed to shift again soon. To take his mind off the throbbing pain, his brain tuned into the rhythm of the forest around them. Wind wandered through the trees, rustling the leaves. Small wildlife, sensing no danger, went about their business despite the scent of his sweat and blood tainting the area.
“We might not have much time. I probably left a damn easy trail for Ben to follow.”
“Good. Then I can kick his ass when he shows up. I’m going to need more than a dirty stick to help you. I need a damned knife.” She brushed away the hair from his eyes and mopped the sweat from his brow. He wondered if she even realized how intimate the move actually was. “Lucky for you, I have my own hidey holes and that’s exactly where we were headed.”
“You have a hideout on the edge of clan property?” Was she crazy too? If he’d caught her kind stalking the area, the first thing he’d have done was eliminate the threat or at the very least report her to the council. They didn’t take that shit lightly.
“Surprising isn’t it? What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”
“Death wish maybe.”
“Stop whining and lie still. Your pale skin and cold sweat is starting to worry me.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than a bullet hole to take me down, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes and shifted. The change took her so fast he barely saw it. Pale fur filled his vision. Unable to resist touching her, he stroked her pelt, luxuriating in the silky softness of her coat. He knew she still harbored a lot of reservations about him and he didn’t blame her. Not that it would stop him from keeping her. Her amber gaze met his and he recognized the hesitation immediately. He allowed his hand to fall free from her fur, but his eyes tracked her as long as he could until she disappeared from sight.
For a few seconds, he considered dragging his sorry ass into the brush in an attempt to stay hidden and decided against it. Why bother? If someone like Ben or any other shifter tracked him, no flimsy bush would hide his bloody carcass. He laid back and thought about why Chey needed a hiding spot so close to clan land. He’d purposely not sought any information on her after he’d walked away. In his mind, a clean break for them both was the best option he could give her. She could move on and he would live up to his family duty. Of course, that plan had gone to shit within a matter of months. The look on her face when he’d left her behind still haunted him.
“Why are you doing this?” Tears tracked down her face, each one sending a dagger straight through his heart.
“This was a mistake from the beginning. If I’d known you were a hybrid this never would have happened.” He turned away from the look of horror on her face. “We do not mix with wolves. It’s forbidden and you damn well know it.”
A choked sob sounded behind him, sending his cat into a tizzy. The scent of her sex still drove them both crazy and it took a herculean amount of effort to not turn back.
“Go home, Cheyenne. Back to your own kind. I don’t want to see you on clan land again. You’re definitely not welcome here and I won’t be held responsible if you cross the line again.”
His entire body had ached to turn back. To gather her in his arms and make any kind of promise that would bind her to him. But after losing his father so close after his mother’s suicide, he had a duty he owed to his brothers. At the time, he’d had no idea what turning his back on a true bond mate would do to his frame of mind. That it would chip away at his sanity one cold fraction at a time.
What had happened to her? Malcolm opened his eyes and struggled to focus. His vision wouldn’t focus no matter how hard he tried. The waning light gave way to darkness in the blink of an eye. His mouth was so dry it ached, making it almost impossible to swallow, and now his limbs shook. Annoyed with his weakness, Malcolm dragged himself to a sitting position. Pain shot through his body from hip to ankle.
“What the hell are you doing? I told you I’d be right back.” He sagged in relief at the sexy sound of her voice.
“You’ve been gone so long I thought maybe Ben had tracked you instead of me.”
She knelt next to him. “I was only gone thirty minutes. You must be really out of it. Here, I brought you this.” She held up a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” he muttered but made no move to take the bottle.
Chey brushed the hair out of his eyes. “You’re a mess.” She unscrewed the top of the water and brought the plastic to his lips. Cool water splashed over his tongue and soothed his desert dry throat. “I’m going to get that bullet out now so you can shift and we can get the hell out of here. First, lie back down.”
Her voice was gentle, soothing even. Too bad it took getting shot to see her like this. She’d make an incredible mother someday. Malcolm groaned. The combination of pain flaring in his hip and the image of her pregnant with his child did him in. Not once had he allowed himself to believe in a family of his own. Bastards like him weren’t father material.
“You sure are bossy,” he said.
She ignored him and he nearly whimpered at the first brush of her fingers across his skin. A shock of need fired through his blood. Half out of his mind from blood loss and still all he thought about was how incredible it felt to be inside her. All that wet heat tightening around him. He groaned again.
“Quit being such a baby. You’ll be fine in about ten minutes.”
Maybe his hip would be. The rest of him raged for the woman kneeling by his side. “You shouldn’t be here. Kane had no business bringing you into all of this.”
She snorted. “You don’t know the half of it. But you will.”
Before he could question what she meant, a sharp bladed knife pushed through his bullet hole. Flames licked at his skin and he had to grind his jaw together to keep quiet. His vision went dark with a violent urge to fight back ripping through his skin. The second she got the bullet dislodged the change overtook him. Again, fast and wickedly painful. Bones snapped and twisted. Someone might as well have stuck a hot flaming poker into his wound. He roared long and loud. Rage fueled him.
Every painful moment of the last few years flew through his memory. He’d tried to do the right thing and failed. He’d left his brothers to save them from what he was turning into and someone had taken advantage of them all. Now he was going to find the bastard and bring him down. Pain gave way to power, healing him from the inside out.
His vision cleared and with it a complete awareness of everything around him. Home. Chey had led him to within a few miles from Kane’s cabin. The time for running away from their problems had ended. They’d make a stand now or die trying. Too much bullshit kept happening at the hands of a council hiding behind a bunch of antiquated laws.
He opened his mouth and another roar burst from him.
“I take it you’re feeling better now.”
Malcolm’s head jerked in her direction. Despite the blood on her hands
she looked more beautiful than ever. She’d obviously had clothes hidden away along with her knife. Although the denim shorts and tank top she’d donned did nothing to cover her long bare limbs. The memory of her sexy skin slicked with sweat and sliding across his body caught him off guard. She’d scraped her long blonde hair into a ponytail at the base of her head, which did nothing at all to detract from her sexual allure. Even the sweat trickling along the edge of her face called to him on the most primal level. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, letting her scent fill his senses.
He growled at her.
She stepped toward him, her hand extended. If she touched him, he’d be lost. And as much as he wanted to get far inside her right now, it was not the right time. For all he knew, Ben had circled around and was coming for them from the inside. Until they got to Kane’s place and demanded some answers, she wasn’t safe. And if there was one thing that would never be up for debate it’d be his need to keep his mate safe.
He whirled away from her and launched through the brush. His ears perked up waiting for a tell tale sign she followed. When he finally heard her less than graceful stomping through the bushes and a few muttered curses under her breath, he smiled and bounded toward home. They would settle this once and for all.
After a few glorious miles of running through his childhood memories in the form of his favorite part of the forest, Malcolm shifted and emerged from the trees. Kane stood in front of his cabin waiting, with his new mate Lara not far behind.
“Look what the cat dragged—” Lara stopped before she finished. She probably realized what an asinine statement that made now that she’d discovered her shifter heritage.
“And how is that shifting coming these days, my sweet?” Malcolm drawled.
Chey growled behind him. The sound low and vicious.
“Easy now. I’m not in the mood for breaking up another catfight. I only recently got all the blood out of the carpet from the last time.” Kane walked into the clearing and pulled Lara to his side. Malcolm wasn’t sure when he’d get used to seeing them together. He’d used her mercilessly in his attempt to strike back at the clan for making him an outcast, and she’d been all too willing to go along with him. Not like he was one to cast stones. He shook his head. The pain of not shifting had been unbearable after the first year. The only way he’d managed to get through each day had been to execute his pent up rage in one scheme after another. Gods, his brothers should have killed him by now.
