Jesse gritted his teeth. It was easy for Cain to be so blasé about it because Harley wasn’t his mate; she wasn’t his to protect and care for. It wasn’t Cain who would fall apart without her.

Harley held Jesse’s tortured gaze. “I’m going,” she said firmly but quietly. “Yes, I could be hurt. But if I don’t try to help, we all die anyway.”

“He’s going to drive away any minute now. The moment he’s far enough away not to feel the backlash of the bombs, he’ll press the triggers,” Cain pointed out. “We don’t have time to wait around.”

Harley nodded. “He won’t need to press the triggers; these are time bombs.” She could see the numbers on the little LED screens.

Cain grimaced. “I don’t know if they’re really linked to the explosives or if they’re there to fuck with our heads—I mean, why give us the luxury of knowing how much time we have? In any case, we still have little time.”

Harley squeezed Jesse’s hand. “I can do this.” Since they were at the rear of the large group, Hector wouldn’t hear her shifting—especially while he and Nick were arguing.

“I know you can do it,” Jesse said gruffly, stroking his thumb over her claiming mark. “I just don’t want you to have to.”

She gave him a quick, hard kiss. “Watch my back.”

“Always.” Once she was gone, he’d move to the front of the crowd so he was standing behind Nick and Shaya. Then if something went wrong, he could intervene. As she started to strip, Jesse shot Cain a cold look. “Turn around.”

With a roll of his eyes, the wolf did.

Harley braced herself, knowing the shift was going to hurt like a bitch thanks to all her injuries. “I should have let Ally heal me.”

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“Yes, you damn well should have.”

Bones popped and cracked as she shifted; the noises made some glance over their shoulders. Understanding flashed in their eyes, and they quickly faced front.

As the little cat stretched, getting comfortable in her skin, Jesse crouched down and stroked his hand down her back. “Hey, kitty.” He scratched her head. “Be careful.”

With a low purr, the cat rubbed her flank against his leg to leave her scent on her mate. She didn’t like him being around strange wolves—especially the females—but the pups were in danger. She stayed low to the ground as she padded to the nearest tree. Satisfied she hadn’t been seen, she leapt onto the branch above.

Silently the cat crept along the branch as she hunted her prey. He was close but not close enough. She could hear him. See him. Her upper lip curled.

She swung and leapt from one tree to another, moving closer and closer to her prey. So close that she could scent him now—he smelled of decay and corruption.

He said, “You thought I wanted the eagles to take you all out, Nick, didn’t you? No. They were just to keep you busy. I can kill all of you with the single press of a button.”

“That doesn’t make you powerful,” said the Alpha male.

“It does make me someone you should fear.”

“And yet, I don’t.”

Inside the cat, Harley urged the margay to hurry. One more leap had the cat reaching the tree closest to her prey. She slowly and carefully padded along the branch above him. He didn’t sense her. He was focused on the Alpha male, speaking more words she didn’t understand.

“Admit it, Nick. You fear me now that your pups’ lives are in my hands.”

The Alpha male growled. “For the last time, give me the girls.”

“But I’m enjoying the panic and anxiety that’s broadcasted all over your face.”

The cat pounced.

Jesse watched as the margay landed hard on Hector’s shoulders, claws out and tearing through skin and muscle. Hector stumbled with a shocked, pain-filled curse, releasing the pups, who ran to the Alpha pair. He grabbed the little cat with sharp claws and launched her at a tree with such force that something cracked. She slumped to the ground, unmoving. And Jesse . . . a red haze fell over his vision as the rage he’d buried welled up and streamed through every vein.

With a guttural roar, Jesse charged over the border and lunged at Hector. He shifted midair and knocked the male to the ground.

The large gray wolf stood over his enemy, snarling, and tried to rip into his throat. He couldn’t. The half shifter gripped the wolf’s head and held it in place. Furious and caught up in bloodlust, the wolf shook his head to get free. The other male held tight.

Growling, the wolf used his back paws to slice at the male’s stomach. Cloth and skin tore. The scent of blood rose in the air. The wolf growled in satisfaction. But then a polar bear knocked the wolf aside with a roar. At the same time, bones cracked and popped as the other male shifted.

Shaking his head, the gray wolf righted himself and circled the polar bear and the large white wolf. Several others joined the gray wolf, snapping their teeth at the two enemies. Roaring again, the polar bear swiped at them. One wolf hit a tree with a yelp. The others all pounced.

The polar batted and clawed at them while the large white wolf bit and body-slammed them. Some wolves fell. Some clung tight with teeth and claws, ripping into flesh and fur. The fallen wolves rose and lunged again, attacking the two enemies from all sides. Bloodying them. Weakening them. Killing them. Soon, both of them collapsed. More wolves tore into them and—

“Jesse! Jesse!”

The gray wolf growled, again sinking his teeth into the white wolf’s flesh.




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