Stalking His Mate: League Of Gallize Shifters

by Dianna Love

  When he reached a spot he felt would be far enough away to draw the wolf in, Rory would then backtrack to catch the shifter as he sniffed at the tree.

  Hopefully, the wolf would believe Rory had left Siofra alone so that he could move faster without her.

  Never happen.

  Rory rushed along the bank of the water until he disappeared into the woods. He ran fifty strides and did a wide U-turn to double back when his boot plunged into a hole covered by branches. The forward motion of running threw all his weight against his leg and snapped his ankle.

  “Fuck.” He fell forward on his hands and yanked his leg. Pushing himself up, he clamped his teeth against the pain of grinding bone on bone and twisted his leg. He pulled the foot out with the boot still on it, then hurried to stand up.

  He took a step and his ankle turned to the side in a sickening shift.

  Ferrell roared, Mate!

  Rory couldn’t hop fast enough to reach Siofra in time, but Ferrell could on three legs. With no other choice, Rory jerked his shirt over his head and shed his clothes.

  Every second he wasted left Siofra in danger.

  He called up his jaguar and the hard shift pushed his attention away from the miserable ankle. When his jaguar stood in his place, his animal had to hold his rear leg up and let the paw dangle.

  But Ferrell didn’t hesitate to go after Siofra.

  Rory reminded him, If you take control and start killing, we’ll lose Siofra.

  Mate, was all Ferrell said, but that was enough to let Rory know his jaguar understood they had to work together. He might feel bad about leaning on the way Ferrell felt about Siofra to control his animal, but his jaguar was privy to Rory’s thoughts.

  They both had her best interest at heart.

  When the tree came into view, that fucking wolf shifter had started climbing in his human form.

  How Ferrell ran as hard as he did on three legs amazed even Rory, but the adrenaline rush overshadowed any pain. That joint would have healed by now if his jaguar was not suffering from damage Rory had caused. Rory had to figure out how to fix them, and soon.

  Ferrell roared a deep sound from his chest.

  The wolf shifter, wearing only shorts, had just reached the first limb and jerked around at the sound. He could go up, but he’d be at a serious disadvantage once Ferrell started climbing.

  Rory couldn’t hear Siofra. She wasn’t making a sound. He hoped she would hold on and not panic.

  Taking his only choice, the wolf shifter leaped to the ground, bursting into his wolf form on the way down. He hit and rolled, coming up on his feet and snarling. Saliva dripped from his jaws.

  Ferrell would be on him in seconds. He said, Kill.

  Rory argued, Not yet. Let’s find out if there are more looking for Siofra.

  Kill.

  Guess using Siofra as a control word would go only so far.

  The wolf didn’t wait for the battle to reach him. He ran forward hard and jumped at Ferrell with claws out and fangs ready to rip into skin.

  Rory’s jaguar went up on one leg, which threw him off balance. When the wolf hit him, Ferrell went over sideways, clawing and biting at the wolf.

  But his jaguar was on the bottom. Bad place to be in this fight.

  The wolf knew it, too. He attacked viciously, trying to get to Ferrell’s throat. Rory’s jaguar clamped down on the wolf’s muzzle and held on. For a minute, wolf claws slashed and fought, but Ferrell closed his mighty jaws harder until Rory heard bone crack.

  He told his jaguar, You’ve won. The wolf is down. Let me change back so I can question him.

  Ferrell growled and shook the wolf’s head.

  Dammit, Ferrell. Let go of his head. He’s done.

  His jaguar breathed hard a couple times then opened his jaws and shoved the wolf off of him.

  Shifting back was going to suck big time. Ferrell had won, but his sides and neck were ripped up, plus the busted back leg. But in spite of all that, Ferrell relinquished control and allowed the slow, painful shift to happen.

  Dying had to be easier than this.

  Ferrell actually whimpered once, and he had never made a sound of pain.

  When Rory lay on the ground breathing hard and smelling of fresh blood, he rolled over to his knees. Two strides away, the wolf was returning to human form.

  Rory winced at the mangled head. Would that shifter be able to talk?

  Struggling to his feet, Rory hopped over to the now human-looking shifter and dropped to his knees. He checked the man’s pulse, which he could barely feel. Blood leaked from multiple holes in his neck where Ferrell’s sharp teeth had made deep punctures, but one rip had blood pouring.

  Ferrell had hit one of the carotid arteries.

  Shit.

  He asked the guy, “Who are you? Who sent you?”

  The shifter’s mouth tried to work, but one side of his jaw had been broken. Still, Rory heard what sounded like, “Fuck you.”

  “Not me, asshole,” Rory said, then snapped the wolf’s neck, leaving dead blue eyes staring up at the sky.

  Searching the shifter’s body, Rory found a Black River Pack tattoo.

  This guy couldn’t have known he was going to bring Siofra here, so he had to have been tracking Rory through the city. If that was the case, he might have only been a patrol watching for any unknown shifters in his area.

  Rory mentally searched the ferry trip.

  People had been out in kayaks and boats, traveling between the mainland and the island. This shifter could have followed the ferry and gotten onto the island unnoticed until now.

  “Rory?” a pitiful voice called out.

  Hell, he had to get Siofra out of that tree. Hopping all the way to the tree, he looked up. “You okay, baby?”

  “No. I just watched your jaguar almost get killed.” She hugged the tree like it was her best friend.

  “Nah, he can handle a wolf if it’s not jacked up on drugs.”

  “Why was he limping? And why are you hopping?”

  “I’ll tell you when I get you down.”

  “How are you going to help me when you can’t even walk?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that.

  Chapter 26

  Siofra heaved one hard breath after another. If she didn’t calm down, she’d have a full-blown panic attack and fall. That wasn’t going to help Rory, who was bleeding everywhere.

  Some might belong to the wolf shifter, but she’d seen that wolf rip into the jaguar. Rory was hurt worse than his hobbling gave away.

  “Give me a minute to shift and see if Ferrell can climb,” Rory offered.

  Ferrell was his jaguar’s name? She couldn’t do that to Rory or his animal. She called down, “No.”

  He thunked his head against the trunk, mumbled something grouchy then looked up at her again. “I’m too tired to argue right now, baby.”

  “Then don’t. I can do this.”

  Panic registered in his face. “Oh, hell, no. You’ll fall and break every bone in your body.”

  She didn’t need any help with being terrified. “Shut up, dammit. You’re not helping.”

  “Just give me a minute and I’ll get you.”

  He intended to climb up here with a bad foot and other injuries? Suck it up and get out of this tree, Siofra. She yelled, “You want to help? Catch me if I fall.”

  That brought out heavy cursing, but she’d already started down, hunting the next limb. Anger fueled her movements, which kept her thinking about clobbering Rory instead of what she was doing. Going up had been an effort, because she’d had to pull herself up to the second branch, but descending meant she’d have to lower herself to dangle as she found that last big branch.

  Then she’d have to figure out how to drop to the ground.

  Her hands shook every time she reached for a new hold.

  Rory had stopped cursing and was encouraging her. “You’re doing great. That’s right, keep finding your footing and get a good grip before you move.”
<
br />   She was sucking air as hard as she could, but feeling pretty proud of herself with every few feet lower she reached. She eased her body down to sit on the limb she’d have to dangle from to reach the last thick one.

  Looking over her shoulder, all her confidence fled.

  She lunged to grab the trunk again. Her heart slammed her chest over and over. She couldn’t do this.

  “How you doing, baby?” Rory called up softly.

  “Good.” Not.

  “Stand up on that limb to get both feet in place then ease down until you’re sitting with both legs on one side.”

  Was he insane?

  She did not want to do that. She’d just wait for him to heal. That sounded like a great idea until she recalled how his leg had not healed a day after being injured by the bounty hunters.

  He might need her to heal him now.

  Every time she’d faced an adversity in the past, she’d tell herself the same thing she said now, “Time to grow a pair of lady balls, Siofra, and put on a pair of big girl panties that can hold them.”

  Rory made a coughing sound.

  “Are you laughing at me?” she warned.

  “Never.”

  She heard the smile in his voice and dropped her forehead against the tree.

  “Sit there, baby, and I’ll come get you.”

  “No.” What was the worst that could happen?

  Break her neck.

  She shouldn’t give herself pep talks. She wasn’t good at it.

  More cursing from below.

  Pushing up slowly, like molasses-in-the-winter slow, she finally got to her feet and figured out how to sit with both legs on one side of the branch.

  With him giving her calm instructions, she reached over to her right and grabbed the branch, thankful when she didn’t fall off.

  She moved her hands to the same side and held her breath as she rolled to her stomach, then dropped down. The strength in her arms had to come from an adrenaline rush, because she was no workout enthusiast. She dangled, waiting to feel the limb.

  Her sneaker covered feet found the wide branch and she carefully shifted her weight to her legs, then used the trunk to make the same move again.

  When she dangled twelve feet above the ground, her damp palms started slipping.

  Rory said, “It’s okay, baby. I’ll catch you.”

  How could he do that?

  Did it matter, because ... her hands slipped.

  He caught her and fell backwards, grunting with the effort, but he’d kept her safe to the ground.

  She scrambled off of him and turned. “You’re bleeding everywhere.”

  “I know.”

  “Can your jaguar heal you?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have to try or we won’t get out of here. The jaguar won’t hurt you.”

  “Do it,” she ordered. She hadn’t even thought about his jaguar attacking her, but Rory had sounded sure his animal wouldn’t and she trusted him.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very funny. Hurry up.”

  “Can’t do it fast again,” he said, struggling to breathe. His chest moved up and down, but his exhales sounded ragged. He ordered, “Turn your back.”

  “Why?”

  “Won’t be pretty.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Just ... do it, please.”

  She turned around only to get him moving, but as she thought about it, she had to watch his back while he was vulnerable.

  The sounds behind her were horrifying. He groaned once, but that was the only sound he made with his voice. The rest were bones snapping.

  When it got quiet, she looked around slowly.

  His massive jaguar tried to sit up and growl. The wounds hadn’t made sense on Rory, but now she could see their natural position from the battle.

  Those wounds weren’t healing even a little.

  She said, “Hi, uh, Ferrell. I want to help you heal if I can.” She started rubbing her palms across each other, building up heat like the day in the van with Rory. Energy pulsed inside of her, but was it healing energy or the killing kind? What if she hit Ferrell with so much power she knocked him out for twelve hours like she had Rory?

  Ferrell rolled up on his chest with his front legs stretched out and his hind legs flopped to the side. The paw on his bad one lay at the wrong angle.

  He stared at her with faith she had to make good on.

  Stepping over to him, she couldn’t get over how huge his head was and his body spread out forever. That wolf never had a chance even with the jaguar injured.

  Should she try to pet him first?

  What if her energy shocked him? Would he bite her?

  That would only happen once. She’d have no head after that.

  Kneeling down so she could get close to his wounds, she froze when he moved his head toward her.

  Growling softly, Ferrell put his chin on her shoulder. His head was heavy, but she could handle the weight.

  Tears pooled in her eyes and chills ran across her arms at such a sign of his complete trust. She’d never felt anything so humbling and empowering at the same time.

  “Okay, I’m going to try something and it might have a little buzz or shock to it,” she said, hoping she wasn’t being a crappy bedside doctor like the ones who had lied to her before they hurt her.

  Carefully reaching for a gash on his shoulder, she used just one finger. Energy hummed at the tip and she could feel his energy rush to meet hers.

  Ferrell made a strange sound, but not angry. Just confused.

  She added another finger and watched as the wound began to heal, leaving dried blood. Going from place to place with careful touches, she wanted to shout with joy as jagged rips began mending, first the underlying muscle, then the ones in his coat began closing and blood stopped oozing out of him.

  Shaking from the fear of hurting him, she said, “I need to see your chest.” Would he know what she meant?

  He pulled away and rolled over, exposing his underside.

  The worst gash was just under his front right leg and sliced halfway down. Feeling a little bold, she spread both hands to cover the entire wound and energy sparked when she touched him.

  His head came up and he gave a sharp growl.

  She didn’t move until he laid back and his tail started swishing back and forth.

  Guess that had been his version of a jaguar “ouch.” The last thing she did was cup his bad ankle in both hands and closed her eyes as warm energy flooded her hands.

  In just a moment, she could feel the bone moving into place, so she let go as it healed.

  Sitting back hard, she stared at her hands. Had she really just done all that?

  Ferrell jumped up, growling and stretching.

  She laughed, pretty pleased with herself over healing him.

  He rushed to the pond, diving in and splashing about as he cleaned off dried blood. He played a few minutes, then seemed to heave a big sigh before he climbed out and shook off.

  Had Rory asked him to get back to business?

  How did that work with those two?

  When Ferrell looked over at the dead guy, she did, too.

  Her stomach tried to send her lunch back up. She held her breath and stared in the opposite direction.

  But the sound of movement pulled her back. Ferrell was dragging the shifter into the woods, where he started digging with super speed. When he had the shifter in the hole, he covered the body with dirt, then bit a fallen branch he used to move back and forth over the shallow grave.

  Done with that, he ran back to the water, rinsed his paws and legs quickly then came over to her.

  As she watched, the jaguar began changing and in the next moment, after a much faster shift, Rory knelt on the ground. He got up and walked over to her, not the least bothered about being naked.

  She started to get up, but didn’t move fast enough. He hooked her under her arms and lifted her to him as if she were a twig and not a substantial female.


  “You are the most amazing woman this world will ever see and gorgeous on top of that.” He brought her to him until their lips met. He gave her a powerful kiss that sent her heart cartwheeling.

  When the kiss ended, she had her legs around him and he had her wrapped up tight.

  He swallowed and said, “I don’t want to let you go, but I have to get you back to the hotel where I can keep you safe. I don’t know what’s more incredible. You scaling that tree then coming down on your own or healing a wounded jaguar.”

  She kissed his face and his lips again, then pulling back she said, “You told me Ferrell wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “He won’t. Ever.”

  “Why’d you name him Ferrell?”

  Rory’s cheeks had a pink tinge. Was he … embarrassed? He admitted, “I could hardly manage him at first, so I kept saying my feral jaguar. Eventually, the guys would ask how feral was doing and I figured I’d change the spelling and give him a real name.” He spelled the name for her.

  She frowned. “I’m seeing his name differently.”

  “Like how?”

  “I’ve always read anything I could get my hands on. One of the women who taught me to read loaned me an old book on Irish history. It had a story about a man named Ó Fearghail.” She spelled it for him. “It means man of valor. I think that better describes your jaguar.”

  “Huh.” Rory was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “He likes that.”

  His jaguar knew what they were talking about? She smiled, feeling a little connection to his jaguar.

  He eased her to the ground and led her to where he’d taken his clothes off. With her help, he didn’t look as bad as he would have if he hadn’t healed.

  The jackal shifters had incredible regeneration.

  Once again, she’d felt Rory and Ferrell’s energy, which seemed powerful.

  Why was he not healing at least as fast as the jackals?

  She brushed that off to ask, “Who was the wolf shifter?”

  “Black River pack. We can’t stay in this city long. They’ll send a search team by tomorrow. It might take them a day to locate the body, but they will. When they do, they’ll hunt for our scent. I don’t think we can wait a week.”

  The most wonderful day she’d ever spent just crashed at the idea of leaving before she found Baatar.