Wolf's Mate

by Celia Kyle

  Declan shook his head, still unwilling to accept Birch’s words. “She’s not involved.”

  Birch dropped his voice, tone grim. “That’s not for us to determine.” A growl slid into Birch’s words. “It’s our job to follow orders, Agent.”

  “He’ll…” Hurt her. Break her.

  Normally Declan didn’t care. Whoever ended up in a room with the director deserved the punishment—usually. Not Abby though. Never her.

  The SHOC director was cunning, unbending, and often violent. And everyone was damn loyal to the asshole. Kinda made sense since he was the one who made sure agents didn’t end up hunted by council Trackers. Or worse—imprisoned by the council.

  Declan’s skin stretched, the wolf scraping him from the inside out. It gnawed on him, punishing him for the situation.

  “Yeah, he probably will.” Birch’s look layered a heap of guilt on his shoulders. The man’s brown eyes turned black with the presence of his bear. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

  “It’s not happening.” Declan pushed the words past his wolf’s teeth.

  Birch snorted. “No choice, remember? Disobeying orders brands you a rogue.”

  He simply shrugged. Declan had been called worse by better men.

  “Bottom line, a team is inbound and you’ll hand her over. Now isn’t the time to enter a dick-measuring contest with the director. There are whispers coming out of headquarters—shit that doesn’t make sense—and it’s making me damned twitchy.”

  No one liked it when a grizzly with a short temper got twitchy.

  “We done?” Declan was afraid to say anything else. His animal had him riding the edge of control, and now wasn’t the time to shift and destroy everything within reach. They could go feral and vent their anger later.

  “We’re done.”

  Declan spun on his heel and strode down the hallway, the need to get to Abby pushing him onward. He split his attention between his path and Birch at his back. He listened to the slow, rhythmic thumps of the bear’s boots on the stairs, the team alpha probably returning to Grant.

  With each step closer to Abby, a plan began to form. One that’d cause a fuck-ton of trouble, but it sure as hell would be fun.

  And it started with Ethan.

  Chapter Ten

  Abby concentrated on remaining calm. She breathed deep, meditated—complete with ohm—and added a prayer to any available deity for good measure. Anything to keep her body relaxed and loose while her cougar did its thing.

  Declan hadn’t returned with any protein to help feed her cat, so the animal made do with what little strength remained. Then again, even if he had brought her food, should she have eaten it? Her Stockholm syndrome–infected brain said, “Of course I would because he would never hurt meeee.” It even added a little trill on the end.

  She was losing her mind. It was bad enough she had to balance her human mind with her cougar.

  She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She emptied her mind of the cat and the part of her that decided her captor’s eyes were sexy. She beckoned the animal forward, nudging it to focus on her wound. Well, wounds. Declan had given her another one, but at least now she was metal-free. The cougar grumbled, both appreciative and annoyed in equal measure. Now it had double the work with no food. None.

  Food was a big thing the cat kept circling back to. It was hungry, dammit. They’d run and swam and then there’d been a lot of panic and…Was it too much to ask to get a burger or something?

  Focus. She spoke to the she-cat, and it hissed at her.

  But at least the beast did as she demanded. The wounds on her side burned and itched, skin and flesh drawing closer as the animal encouraged healing. It worked from the inside out, repairing the deepest parts of her side before moving closer to her skin. Nerves and veins pieced back together, muscle merging until it was once more whole.

  The cougar whined and huffed, swaying on her paws due to exhaustion. She hung her head low, spine curved and snout nearly brushing the ground. Even the animal’s tail drooped, the tip not flicking an inch.

  The holes in her side still throbbed, the healing not complete, but it was better than it’d been.

  Rest.

  The cougar whimpered, soulful golden eyes flashing in the darkness of Abby’s mind.

  You did good. Rest now. You can try more after we eat.

  If they ate. She hung her prayers on Declan—that he told the truth—but he could have simply been telling her what she wanted to hear.

  SHOC were the good guys—ish. They were the monsters in the dark who hunted and killed the bogeyman—by any means necessary. Lying, cheating, stealing, killing…They did it all without guilt.

  At least, those were the rumors passed around. “SHOC keeps us safe from humans who want to harm our kind. Just don’t make them angry because they know how to hide bodies.”

  The shifter council monitored and policed shifters. They got accolades and awards. SHOC got looks of pure fear and a wide berth. But Declan had been nice, right? The niggling doubt nudged her once more.

  The sound of someone’s approach reached her, muffled by the solid wood door but still audible. She’d call on her cat for assistance, but it’d already done so much for her—them. If the newcomer was entering, she’d find out what he wanted when he appeared.

  Low murmurs followed, one voice tinged with an animal’s growl while the other remained slow and calm. The growl drew her attention most. She might not understand the words, but she recognized the rise and fall, the pitch and tempo.

  Declan had returned. Which thrilled her cat a little too much, a delicate purr sliding through her mind. One that also gathered in her chest and threatened to break free. She wasn’t going to purr for her captor—she wasn’t.

  The voices rose, Declan’s snarl deepening, and then his rumbles were countered by the other man’s. Their volume grew, growled words gradually becoming clearer, and then…

  The voices snapped off like a switch followed by a low thump, a door-shaking thud, and the brush of fabric on wood. One of them hit the other and sent him collapsing against the door.

  If one was on the floor, who was left standing?

  Please be Declan. Please.

  It was better to have the devil she knew-ish, right?

  The knob turned, near silent until the latch fully disengaged with a soft click. The panel gradually swung inward, revealing the hallway as well as the man collapsed in the doorway—blond with tanned skin and deep brown eyes.

  Wait, what?

  Declan stepped over the fallen male and strode to her. “Time to go, Abby.”

  “I think you cracked a tooth when you hit me, asshole,” the man on the floor growled.

  Declan didn’t respond. Hadn’t he heard the guy snarling?

  “Declan, he’s awake.” She pointed at the guy, who looked to be getting comfortable. He reached into his pocket and tugged a cell phone free, attention on the device rather than them.

  Declan glanced at the other man and then back to her and shrugged. “I only kill other agents on Tuesdays.”

  Abby wasn’t sure if he was joking and was too afraid to ask.

  “Declan had to make it look like I tried to stop him.” The man tilted his head and met her eyes. He gave her a wink and a smile. “He hits like a declawed house cat—all paws, no claws.”

  “Ethan, shut the fuck up,” Declan snarled, but his touch was gentle as he pulled her from the chair. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and led her to the door, holding her steady while she stepped over the other man.

  Ethan snorted. “You’re just mad that I’m right.”

  “Can you run?” Declan stared at her, his gaze heavy and intent.

  “I…” The way he stared at her, the way his wolf peeked out from behind his blue eyes, told her that her answer was very, very important. “Yes.”

  She didn’t think she had any other choice.

  “You realize that the moment you hit the garage, the alarm will sound,
right?” Ethan lifted his head and quirked a brow.

  “I’m aware.” The heat of Declan’s glare warmed the area around them.

  “And that the van has a global positioning tracker? If you think stealing it will help…”

  “Ethan, spit it out already.”

  Ethan frowned. “Cranky.” The man turned his attention to her. “You really want to go with him, kitten?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Once you go lion…”

  “Ethan…” Declan’s grip tightened, nails digging into her flesh.

  “Fine,” Ethan grumbled, and dug into his pocket, yanking a set of keys free. “It’s on the second level of the garage.” He tossed the jangling keys at Declan, and he caught them with ease. “Be nice to her. She’s a delicate piece of—”

  “Machinery.” Declan grunted and tugged on Abby, pulling her to the right and leading her down the hallway.

  “I don’t get a thank-you?” Ethan called after them, but Declan simply kept walking and Abby had to jog to keep up.

  He didn’t slow until they reached a solid metal door, and a peek through the small window showed a dimly lit parking garage on the other side.

  He paused, his gaze on the garage while he spoke to her. “We’re going out this door and down two flights. Birch is above us on seven with Grant. Ethan will take his time joining them, which will give us a few extra seconds.”

  Declan turned his attention to her, stare intent and unwavering. There was a tension in his jaw and determination in his eyes. As if getting her away from the building was the most important thing in his world at that moment.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I can’t let you stay here.” A different set of emotions flittered across his face. Something she couldn’t read, but she didn’t imagine it was anything good.

  “I thought SHOC were the good guys. I thought…”

  “Sweetheart.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, his tone condescending. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she’d kick him. “You want a good guy who’ll always do the right thing? You call a council Tracker. You want a job done no matter the cost? You call SHOC. We’re good if the money’s right. If not…” He shrugged.

  Abby licked her lips, a sliver of fear making her mouth go dry. “I can’t pay you to be good.”

  “Yeah, well, for some reason my wolf is determined to be good for you anyway.” He didn’t sound happy about the situation, either. “You ready?”

  No. But she didn’t have a choice. She jerked her head in a brisk nod.

  The scrape of metal on metal—the bar handle slamming in its casing—was followed by the clang of the panel striking the exterior wall. Before they’d even cleared the doorjamb, an alarm sounded. The high-pitched whine chased them into the stairwell and down the steps.

  It spurred her to push her body harder, run faster, and match Declan’s long strides step for step.

  Another echoing bang reached them, the sound from above them and distant yet still too close for comfort.

  As was the roar that followed. It vibrated the air around them, bouncing off the concrete walls and shaking her from inside out.

  “Birch isn’t a happy camper.” Declan almost sounded pleased by that fact.

  They finally stopped descending, and he pulled her across the near-empty garage, toward the single car that occupied the level. A sports car—low-slung and black—gleamed in the dim light.

  He released her and rounded the vehicle, and she immediately reached for the door, sliding into the passenger seat and then yanking it closed. Declan slipped behind the wheel, started the engine, and threw the car into gear.

  He tossed a glance her way, a smile playing on his lips. “Hold on. This is gonna get rough.”

  The tires squealed, echoing through the large, empty space. The car lurched forward, engine roaring. Then they were moving again. Not moving, racing, across the concrete parking lot. The car hit the winding exit, back bumper scraping on the ramp with a loud screech.

  That was followed by a roar. Not from the car or Declan—from behind them. A beast, a shifter, and he was pissed.

  Abby half turned in her seat and peeked out the back window in time to catch sight of someone bursting from the stairwell.

  “Uh, there’s a half-shifted…” She swallowed hard. She hated the surge of fear that assaulted her, but she could work past the terror. She flicked a quick glance at Declan. “Something. It’s brown.”

  Declan changed gear. The whine of the engine altered slightly before the mechanical roar picked up again. “That’s Birch. He’s a grizzly.”

  Grizzly…Mean. Violent. Determined. Which simply freaked her out even more. “Is he gonna catch us?”

  “He’ll try.” He snorted and then chuckled. “But we’re in Ethan’s baby, and we have a head start.” He shook his head. “Not happening.”

  “But…”

  “Abby.” His voice was low compared to the other noises surrounding them, but it still reached out to her. It caressed her in a soft brush of invisible hands on her skin. He spared her a glance, amber eyes flashing in her direction before his gaze went back to the road. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

  Her cougar purred, creeping out of hiding in the back of her mind. It padded forward—curious, anxious—to be closer to Declan. And his wolf.

  “You can’t promise—”

  His chuckle was deep and dark—threatening. She’d be afraid if every part of her didn’t want to stay at his side, if every part of her didn’t somehow trust him already. And wasn’t that screwed up?

  “No one’s gonna put their paws on you.” That smooth murmur reached out for her, another caress, another stroke of his voice over her skin.

  They made the last turn, night sky in sight, and she could practically taste freedom.

  Then she tasted her own blood as she bit her lip.

  A gate, thick metal bars that’d mean more captivity if they fell into place, started to lower from the roof of the tunnel.

  “Declan?” She hated the way her voice shook, the tremble in her body, and the fear that attacked her, but she couldn’t suppress the sensations.

  Another gear, the engine so loud she couldn’t hear anything but its rumble, and the car shot forward in a last bid to escape. The gate inched closer and closer to the ground, and Abby eyed the distance between the gate and the concrete, attention not wavering for even a moment. And then…

  Then they sped through the opening, the gate scraping the back half of the car, but they managed to burst free. The clear night sky embraced them, moon illuminating their path while the stars twinkled in welcome.

  Free.

  For that moment, anyway.

  She peeked out of the back window once more, searching for anyone who still gave chase. She shouldn’t have bothered, though. She should have just accepted that SHOC agents weren’t ones to give up easily. The gate that’d nearly blocked their exit now retreated, their pursuers simply waiting for it to retract once more.

  He’d said the others would never catch them, but… “Can they track us? With GPS or something?”

  “Nope.” Declan whipped the car onto a one-way street, tires squealing in protest. The moment he finished the turn, he cut the lights. As in, the actual headlights.

  “Don’t you need those to drive?” Abby hated being scared. Like, a lot.

  “Nope.” He accelerated through the next turn.

  Abby clung to the car’s door, bracing herself for the crash to come. Because there would be a crash. Her cougar knew it, too and now, even though it wanted to rub all over Declan like he was catnip, it also wanted to get the hell away from the crazy wolf.

  “Hold on.” He jerked the wheel to the right, taking a hard turn that had her clinging to the door for dear life while he swung them through the bend.

  Abby gripped the door handle with one hand and her seat belt with the other while she prayed. Hard. Not to a specific god—any would do. She merely wanted to get out of the mess alive. She’d
take battered, bruised, and a little broken if she was still breathing when the car came to a stop.

  Declan’s next turn made her wonder if he had a death wish. Tires squealed and moonbeams revealed whirling clouds of smoke from burnt rubber, the acrid scent stinging her nose. The vehicle slid sideways across the asphalt. Declan just laughed, a chuckle full of crazed joy filling the car.

  He changed gears again, dropping low as he pulled out of the skid, and they shot forward, up an on-ramp and right into late-night traffic. The highway wasn’t filled by cars and SUVs, but it wasn’t empty either. A nice middle ground that allowed Declan to zip through the other travelers.

  “You’re enjoying this.” She shook her head. “Like, really enjoying this.”

  “Hell yeah, baby. It’s been a while since I had a good high-speed run.” He jerked the wheel to the left and then right, sliding through a space that looked hardly big enough to fit her, never mind a car. But he did it, moved through the traffic like a river of water—slick, raging, unstoppable. And elated. Until he glanced at her and his smile turned into a frown. His nostrils flared, chest expanding for a moment, and then he huffed out a quick exhale. “You’re scared.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded to reiterate. “Eric and those men. Then the fight. Then the running.” She skipped over the tablet part because…because her cat had lovely thoughts about Declan, but her human mind still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. “Then the kidnapping and then the re-kidnapping and then…”

  And she was using “and” and “then” a lot, but damned if she could figure out how to talk like a normal person. Normal people didn’t hop in sports cars with potential lunatics.

  “Okay.” Declan reached between them, grabbed the emergency brake, and gave it a fierce yank. They slid sideways again, the move followed by blaring honks from other drivers while they slammed on their own brakes.

  The car drifted down an exit, and a flash of white filled the interior of the car for a split second. “What…?”

  “Automated toll booth.” They ran a red light, shooting beyond oncoming cars. “Means we’ll have to ditch this one.”