"Yeah."

"Let me get a whiff."

Nick took the bottle and sniffed it. Then inhaled again, giving Ryon a bemused look. "I don't smell anything but whiskey. Wonder why you picked it up but I can't."

"Got no clue." He had a feeling Nick did, though. Damned if he was asking in front of his Pack brothers.

Nick waved a hand at the trail ahead. "We'll keep going and spread out some, but no farther than shouting distance. If you pick up her scent again, let us know."

Quickly, Ryon took the bottle back, screwed the lid on again, and stuffed it into his pack. She'd want a nip, later. Especially after she recovered enough to recount what had scared her. Almost killed her.

He and Nick walked the center of the trail while the others split off to the left and right of them, searching deeper into the woods. Now and then, Ryon caught the barest hint of her essence in the air, or on some brush. No sign of her, however, or where she might have veered off the path.

Until Micah called out from the left of the trail and stepped from a copse of trees, waving an arm. "Hey! Over here!"

Guys, Micah has something to the left of the trail, Ryon pushed into their heads. It was easier and more efficient than yelling.

He and Nick struck out through the trees, hurrying, the third group behind them. Micah disappeared briefly and he worried they would lose him, but it wasn't long before he and Nick spotted Micah, Hammer, Mac, and Noah in an area where the trees thinned a bit. Micah was agitated, glancing their way, and then down at a lump on the ground. Hammer was outwardly calm, his expression unreadable.

The first fact Ryon became aware of was the stench. The putrid odor of death clogged his nostrils and threatened to send up the meager contents of his stomach. As he and Nick approached, he was damned grateful that his breakfast had consisted of little more than dry toast and some juice. Apparently, Mac, who was Kalen's pregnant mate, wasn't so lucky.

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"Excuse me," she croaked. "I'm going to be sick."

Ryon felt sorry for her. The doc was a pure professional, but pregnant women sometimes couldn't handle certain sights and smells very well. Hell, he'd almost been sick and he didn't even have an excuse. Ryon almost went after her, but Kalen showed up and intercepted his pea green mate, leading her away from the gruesome scene.

"Fuck me." Noah breathed. "As a nurse I've seen plenty of dead people, but nothing like this."

Ryon nodded. "Me, neither. Christ."

"Can't tell if it was a man or a woman," Jax observed. He coughed, holding a hand over his face. Not that it would help.

Rowan, Aric's mate, had been quiet throughout the search, until now. "Woman," she said, pointing. "Look how small the shoes are, and the laces are pink."

Noah arched a brow. "That doesn't mean anything. I have pink shoelaces."

Ryon shot him a grin. "So it's like that, is it? Shoulda figured." Noah winked at him and several of the guys laughed. The exchange dispelled some of the depressing atmosphere, but Nick wasn't amused.

"Focus, idiots. We've got a murder here and two more possible victims we need to find."

Sobering, Ryon crouched near the body and studied it. God, it was torn to pieces. Hardly recognizable as human, just shredded clothing here and there, clumped with bloody flesh and muscle, writhing with maggots. A sliver of garment that used to be white caught his eye, however. Reaching for a stick on the ground, he used it to lift the white strip of cloth from the clump.

"It's part of a bra," he said, then dropped the stick in disgust. "Rowan's right."

"There's her backpack," Micach observed. Everyone turned to look at it. "But it's strange that it's not torn up and there's no blood on it."

Ryon stared at it, chilled. "It might not belong to the this victim." He gestured to the mangled body.

"A companion?" Nick wondered aloud. "Or the woman who came to you for help?"

Just then, Ryon's eardrums were nearly shattered by a high-pitched wailing noise. "Shit!"

Bracing a hand on the ground, he searched for the source of the shrieking. He wasn't surprised to note that none of the others heard the racket. Nor was he shocked to see the spirit of the female victim sitting beside her own body, covered in blood, rocking as she wailed out her terror.

"Ryon?" Nick barked. "What is it?"

"The woman," he said hoarsely, pointing to the ghost they couldn't see. "She's there, screaming. She's rocking, too, staring at the blood all over her."

"Christ."

Ryon tried getting her attention, reaching out a hand. "Ma'am? Hello? Can you tell us your name? What happened to you?"

The wailing stopped briefly as she blinked at him. He hated that vacant stare. The mind that no longer was at home, working like it should. She couldn't make sense of him.

And just like that, she vanished.

"She's gone," he told them. He heard someone say "thank fuck" and silently agreed. "She didn't tell me anything."

Nick blew out a breath. "Okay. We've either got a crime scene or a grizzly bear mauling, but it's going to take experts to tell which one. I've got to radio Sheriff Deveraux, get the county folks on the way. Then we've got to find Miss Bradford before we run out of time."

At the reminder of the missing biologist, Ryon stood. Sniffed the air. At first it was hard to smell anything but the awful odor from the body, and he began to doubt he'd be able to pick up her trail again. But then it was there. Her sweet scent, beckoning him on.

"Daria was here," he told them. "I'm positive. Her scent is all over the backpack. I think it's hers."

They waited as he made a circuit of the area. Frustration grew as the scent faded in and out, weaker in his human form. His wolf snarled again, demanding to be unleashed. His companion could track her much faster, and he was getting hard to control.

He turned to Nick. "I need to let my wolf out. Tracking is too dicey in this form."

"And if the humans see you?"

"You can say I'm your pet. A wolf-dog hybrid. Please, we don't have much time to debate about it."

Nick hesitated, but gave in. "Fine. Put your clothes in your pack, and someone will carry it."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

Undressing quickly, he shoved his clothes into the pack and immediately dropped to all fours. The shift happened in a blink, leaving him disoriented for a second. Never had it been so fast, and he knew the woman was the reason. Vaguely, he heard one of the guys exclaim over the speed of his shift, but he lost the comment amid the overwhelming scent of the female his wolf sought.

There was nothing now but her. The need to find and protect the woman. She wanted him, had come to him. No one else. He had to find her, to know why.

Forgetting about the body, he honed in on Daria's scent and bolted in the opposite direction of the trail, farther into the forest. She had discovered the body, and had run. He understood that something had frightened her into taking off, causing her to move in the wrong direction. Something more than just finding a corpse.

The tangible prickle was still in the air. Stronger now than before. He ran, the pain of his own injuries a distant memory, of no importance. Not when he was on the precipice of losing something monumental, something he couldn't name. And if she didn't survive-

No. That could not happen. He wouldn't allow it.

He ran so fast, he almost tumbled headlong over the edge of the ravine she had told him about. Skidding to a halt, he scrambled back from the edge and then peered over. Stared into the gorge and wondered how far she had fallen. Where could she be?

Pacing the lip, he put his nose to the ground and searched. Up and down, again and again. Until finally, he found where she'd gone over. He felt her then, her life fading. Heartbeat slowing. How was this connection possible?

Sitting on his haunches, he let out a long, lonely howl. Then he plunged over the side and hit the rocky slope, sliding, aware of shouts from above. He almost lost his footing once or twice, but managed to control his descent. He was nearly to the bottom when he saw her.

Daria was lying wedged in a tight crevice, her arm sticking out at an impossible angle. Her clothing was torn and bloody. Scratches marred her arms and what he could see of her face. Long raven hair covered much of her features, billowing slightly in the wind. She didn't stir as he rushed over. Didn't move at all as he nosed her good hand, licked her face. Whining, he huddled as close to her as he could, his wolf taking charge of the man for the first time in his memory. In a heartbeat, in the wake of her suffering, he was lost to the beast within.

Daria. Hurt.

The wolf heard the calls from above, and tensed, growling softly. A menacing warning to those who approached. They would not get near her. He would not allow it. She suffered, and he along with her.

"You found her!" a dark-haired man said, moving closer. "Good work. Let me-"

Baring his fangs, he moved to place his body between the man and his female. Crouched, ready to spring, and rumbled a warning deep in his chest. Hurt. Mine.

"Shit. Ryon, it's me, Nick." Holding out a hand, the man edged closer. "Ryon, get hold of your wolf."

Mine! He snarled at the man called Nick and the others who crept up behind him, wide-eyed.

"We know, buddy. But she's hurt and needs medical attention, remember? We can't help her if your wolf won't let us near her."

"Christ, has he gone feral?" someone asked.

"No," Nick said quietly, eyes never leaving the wolf's. "He's protecting his mate."

"His what?" A pause. "Oh, fuck."

"That's one way of putting it."

Mate? Mate. Mine!

Nick raised his voice, speaking urgently. "Ryon Hunter, do you hear me? Make your wolf stand down now or she's going to die. Your mate will die. Do you understand?"

Your mate will die.

Ryon struggled to gain control over his wolf, but forcing him into submission wasn't easy. The beast was so enraged by his female's suffering it was damned near impossible. But gradually, he exerted his will over the snarling beast and won the battle.

Mate. Nick had said . . . the woman was his mate? She would die?

Sitting back, he let the shift flow and in seconds found himself in human form, blinking at the others. "Nick? What the hell is going on?"

"Later. Right now we've got to make sure she survives. I'm going to be honest and tell you there's only one way to do that."

"Which is?" He had a feeling he knew what his commander was going to say. His serious expression said it all before he even spoke.

"If you want Daria to live, you'll have to bite her."

With those simple words, Ryon's life was changed forever.

Chapter Three

I f you want Daria to live, you'll have to bite her.

Ryon stared at Nick, heart thudding in his chest. "You mean claim her."

"Yes. Give her some of your blood first, then the bite. If she's going to survive, you have to hurry."

There was no time to sit around debating how this one act was going to completely alter his life, and the beautiful young woman's as well. No time to fear how much she'd resent him for playing God, not a second to lose agonizing that she'd hate him forever.

There was no choice, really. Because no way in hell was he going to let his mate die.

Working carefully, he helped Nick and Jax extract Daria from the crevice and move her to level ground, on her back. She was too still, her tanned face gray, lips turning blue. The biologist was clinging to her life thread with every ounce of strength she possessed, and her core of inner strength gave him hope.

He wasted no time in shifting one finger into a claw, using it to slice open his wrist while Nick pried open her mouth. Blood welled and he placed his wrist to her lips, squeezing to hurry the flow. The crimson liquid dribbled between her lips, a macabre sight and yet a lifesaving measure. If only her body would accept the offering. Embrace it. Heal.




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