“You know he’d never let you leave, no matter what anybody said. If you try to go, he’ll track you down and drag you back here. We both know that you’d never be able to hold out against him if he fought to keep you or wanted to imprint on you.”

Damn her brother for knowing her so well. Her words were quiet and sad. “I’d be risking his life if I imprinted on him.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her to his side. “Jaime, you must realize how much better your wolf has been. She responds to Dante—he makes her feel secure. It stands to reason that she’d feel even more secure if you bonded.”

“I can’t ever take that risk, even if he wanted me to.” She knew for sure that he wouldn’t chance going through that pain again.

“At least you’re admitting that you want to. That’s more than I expected. If you’re scared that you’ll lose him to his true mate, don’t. If he wanted her, he wouldn’t be in so deep with you. And if you’re feeling bad that you’re not waiting for your true mate, don’t do that either.”

“Don’t you feel bad that you’re not waiting?”

He sighed. “A part of me does. But there’s no guarantee that I’d find her. Lots of shifters don’t.

I’ve found somebody I love enough to bond with them. I’d be an idiot to ignore that. And so would you.” With a kiss to her forehead, the pain in her ass released her and continued down the tunnel.

He’d always had a way of jumbling her thoughts.

Outside the main door, she found Dante waiting impatiently. “You could have gone without me. I’d have followed.”

He took her hand in his and dragged her to him so that he could plant a kiss on her mouth. “No.

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We go together.”

He often did that—ate up every single bit of personal space she had. She shouldn’t have liked it, should have instead felt threatened by it or found it imposing. Instead, it made her feel safe, cared for, protected, and cosseted. The way his body heat swathed and encased her only added to that feeling of safety, only made the close contact more comforting. It scared her how much she liked it, because she wasn’t sure how she’d cope if she no longer had it. A little of that anxiety must have shown on her face, because he cupped her cheek and breezed his thumb over her mouth.

“You okay, baby?” Her bright smile settled and invigorated him.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

In a small clearing far into pack territory, they found the rest of the pack. Having watched them out of her bedroom window many times whenever they gathered near the lake, Jaime knew which wolf was which. She smiled as she watched a wolf with the salt-and-pepper fur—Dominic—

playfully bound into a wolf whose fur was black other than that on his face, neck, and the insides of his ears, which were a creamy blond. Ryan, she knew. He somehow withstood the impact and gave the salt-and-pepper wolf a look that could only be described as superior. Then he swiped his paw at him, knocking him to the ground.

Suddenly two gray-brown-yellow wolves—Trick and Marcus—were on top of the salt-and-pepper wolf. The three of them tussled and wrestled, releasing high-pitched barks.

“Maybe one day Dominic will realize that he doesn’t have a chance of coaxing Ryan to play.

How’s your wolf?” Dante studied her expression intently as he ran a hand through her hair and brushed his lips against hers.

“She’s a little wary. She knows these are her packmates, but she’s never encountered their wolves before. I’m pretty sure she’ll be happy to see yours.”

“Good. Hopefully it’ll help her settle.” He smiled at the hunger in Jaime’s eyes as he stripped na**d right in front of her. “Soon, baby,” he promised. In a matter of seconds, he had shifted.

Jaime crouched down to the large gray-black wolf in front of her. He rubbed his cheek against hers and sniffed behind her ear, taking in her scent. Smiling, she shoved him by his muzzle. “Go on.

Go play.” He licked her hand and yapped playfully. Then he loped off to join the mock fighting along with a jet-black wolf—Tao.

She could only laugh as she watched the five wolves chasing, pouncing, ambushing, and shouldering one another. There was also a lot of jaw wrestling and grabbing each other by the scruff of the neck to wrestle each other to the ground. The other wolves lounged around, watching the scene with only a slight interest.

Unsurprisingly, she found herself lamenting that she couldn’t free her wolf and play with the others. She wanted to be able to shift with Dante and let their wolves run together, wanted to be at one with her wolf rather than at war with her. Although her wolf, too, wanted to run with her male, she was too distracted and wary to actually yearn for it.

Pulling Jaime from her thoughts, a graceful red female wolf appeared beside her. Shaya. Jaime ran her fingers through her fur, frowning in distaste as the red wolf repeatedly licked her face. “Bad girl.”

Seemingly jealous, her gorgeous gray-black wolf trotted over and bumped the female wolf’s body aside. The red wolf snapped at him in complaint, but she didn’t challenge the dominant male wolf. Instead, she went to lie beside the salt-and-pepper wolf who was sprawled on the ground, panting crazily.

It had been so long since Jaime had felt this sense of belonging. Her wolf had settled a little now that her male was here, and she lazed within Jaime, content though still alert—always alert.

When the gray-black wolf stretched out in front of her and then rolled onto his back, showing her his white undercoat, Jaime knew what he wanted. Chuckling, she alternated between lightly scratching his stomach and simply petting him. For almost an hour they stayed like that until he shifted back into his human form. Some of the others followed suit.

Leaning up to rest on his elbow, Dante bit her lower lip and sucked it into his mouth. “My wolf likes you petting him. But now it’s my turn. Let’s go.” He saw her eyes flare with the same hunger that he knew was in his. Standing and tugging on his T-shirt, he gestured to the jeans on the ground next to where she was still sitting. “Pass those to me, baby.” She sighed at the garments, feeling totally torn. On the one hand, it seemed pointless for him to dress since she intended to have him na**d again when they returned to their room, but she didn’t want him strolling around in his birthday suit in front of the other females. It was one thing for him to do it while shifting, but it was another for him to give others a chance to ogle him. How could they not? So she threw the jeans to him, laughing when the zip caught on one of his chest hairs. And that was when she felt it…that sense that something wasn’t “right.” That something was there that shouldn’t be. No, some one.

Instinct made her look at a certain small opening in the trees that surrounded the perimeter gate. As her eyes zoomed in, she understood. “Everybody move!” She had barely jumped to her feet when it felt as if someone had smacked her leg with a sledgehammer. She let out a pained, pissed-off cry as her leg gave way and she ended up on her back. “Go! Go! Go!” The submissive wolves within the pack didn’t hesitate to move, but Dante and the enforcers remained. Trick, Dante, and Tao knelt beside her.

“You’ve been shot,” said Tao disbelievingly.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious. Now will someone go find the shooter!” A burning sensation—that was what she’d heard being shot felt like. Burning sensation, my pale, fat ass. It was like a bomb had gone off inside her calf and hot sulfur had been poured into the wound.

“Ryan and Dominic are already on it,” Trick told her.

“I’ll kill him.” Dante’s voice was like a whip. “I will. Whoever he is, he’s dead.” The only thing stopping Dante from acting on the urge to join Ryan and Dominic in hunting down the shooter was that Jaime was hurt. He tore open the leg of her jeans to get a better look at the injury on her calf.

His instinct was to scoop her up, hold her to him, and get her inside, but he wanted to be sure that the bullet was out first. If it was lodged somewhere sensitive, moving her might jostle it around painfully.

“I’ll go make sure Grace has the examination room ready,” announced Marcus.

Dante merely nodded, focused on Jaime, concerned and angry in equal measures. He would bet he was more ashen than she was right now. His attempt to examine her leg failed when her body jerked and she cried out. Seeing her wrapping her arms around her stomach as she tried to curl up, he knew what was happening. He collared her throat. “Stop.”

Jaime tried to pull his hand away when she sensed that his display of dominance was only increasing her wolf’s anger. The combination of Jaime’s shock, pain, anxiety, and anger was enough to massively agitate and panic her wolf. The fact that the threat could still be nearby only fueled her wolf’s state. She wasn’t in a receptive mood right now and only viewed Dante’s action as interference. The dumb-ass, however, didn’t release her.

“Stop,” he ordered again, flexing his grip on her throat. When it still didn’t work, he brought his mouth down hard on hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth and seeking her own. It was a devouring, forceful, urgent kiss that demanded attention, demanded a response. When he got that response, he softened the kiss, hoping to calm and reassure her wolf. “Better?” he asked hoarsely when he pulled away.

Jaime nodded, though she was very aware that it wouldn’t take much to have her wolf fighting to surface again.

“Good. Now I need to get a better look at your leg. I’ll be careful.” He cursed when he saw that there was no exit wound. “It’s already starting to heal, and if we don’t get the bullet out soon, it’ll be permanently embedded there.” Quickly Dante whipped off his T-shirt, tore off a strip, and tied it around her calf to add pressure to the wound. “Sorry, baby, but I need to move you.” As he scooped her up, Jaime gritted her teeth against the pain. She knew he was being as careful as possible as he carried her through the trees to the caves, but every single movement made her wince. She did her best to keep quiet, but she couldn’t help hissing as they ascended the stairs of the cliff face. They found a concerned Grace waiting near the door.

“I’ve prepared the examination room, and I’ve got Lydia there already waiting,” Grace told them as she walked at Dante’s side through the maze of tunnels.

Inside the examination room, he gently placed Jaime on the bed, even though what he really wanted was to hold her against him. Needing to touch her, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “She’s been shot in her calf. The bullet’s still in there.”

“I’m going to need you to stand back, Dante,” said Grace.

Dante couldn’t help the growl that escaped him. No one kept him from Jaime, no one, especially while she was hurting.

Grace eyed him warily, but she remained firm. “I know you’re worried about her, but I’m going to need the space. Let’s face it, you take up a lot of it.”

“Dante, it’s okay,” said Jaime.

Her soft words smoothed over the jagged frays in his control. Grinding his teeth and clenching his fists, he grudgingly moved aside, not once releasing Jaime’s gaze. Being apart from her while she was hurting went against every instinct he had. He wanted to lie with her, feel her skin, bathe in her scent, and give her whatever comfort he could. Not that she’d accept any comfort, the stubborn woman, but he needed the contact just as much as she did. The thought of anyone even wanting to hurt her made his blood boil. His wolf was growling and pacing, anxious, enraged, and wanting vengeance.

Every time Jaime cried out in pain, he moved toward her only to receive a “stay back” look from Grace. Though she was one of the kindest souls he had ever known, Grace was also a hard-ass when she needed to be. That didn’t stop him from growling at her for keeping him apart from his female, even if it was slightly irrational, considering that she was tending to Jaime’s wound.

“Dante.”

Hearing his Alpha call him, Dante froze. The Beta in him urged him to answer the summons, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk away from Jaime. A part of him knew that he was overreacting by not wanting to move from her side. That same part of him acknowledged that she would heal and be absolutely fine—no other outcome was allowed. But another part of him was raging; this was Jaime, his Jaime, and she had a hole in her f**king leg. She was bleeding and in pain, and that was absolutely unacceptable.

“Dante,” Trey called again. As if he sensed Dante’s struggle, he added, “You don’t have to leave the room, just get your ass over here.”

“Go on,” Jaime told him gently. When he didn’t move, she assured him, “I’ll call you if I need you.”

Nodding, he—ignoring Grace’s sharp look—squeezed past Lydia and kissed Jaime’s hair, inhaling her scent. Very, very reluctantly, he walked to where Trey stood in the doorway with Trick and Tao. Dante stood at an angle so that he could still monitor Jaime.

Tao winced at the sight of all the blood. “I still can’t believe she was shot.” Neither could Dante. Sure, he’d known that Glory’s brothers would try something sooner or later, but he hadn’t considered that there would be guns involved. Shifters fought with tooth and claw.

Guns were considered cowardly, and not many shifters used them.

Trey folded his arms across his chest as he spoke to Trick. “When you said Glory’s brothers were crazy, I didn’t think you meant crazy enough to skulk around my territory with a rifle and then shoot one of my wolves.”

“And all because their little sister doesn’t like being denied what she wants,” growled Dante, striving to remain calm while anger bubbled through his veins.




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