He presses against me harder with every passing minute.Restless.Furious.Afraid in his own animal way.We need to get her!She needs to be safe and with us.
She will be,I promise him.Soon.
I step outside onto the porch, drawing a deep breath of crisp mountain air.Pine.Earth.The morning dew has almost evaporated.The world feels painfully normal for how wrong everything else is.I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here when the door opens behind me.
“Hey.”
I turn.
Christian stands in the doorway, coffee mug in hand, dark hair tousled, eyes tired but steady.“Talk to me.”
I shake my head.“There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s always something.”
Silence stretches between us.Comfortable.Familiar.
“She needs me,” I say finally.“It feels terrible just standing here.”
“I know, but it won’t be for long.She’ll be in your arms in a matter of hours.”
I nod, and we drink our coffee in silence for a minute.
“Come on.You need to get some rest.Want me to give you something?”
I shake my head.“No.I’m good.”
He claps me on the back, and together we say goodbye to everyone and head home.
I take a shower when I get back and try to relax, but it’s no use.I spend hours pacing my home, counting down the seconds until it’s time to go.
The hours crawl by like injured animals.
I try to keep busy.Paperwork.Training drills.Running with the other guys before they go on patrol.Anything to bleed off the fire burning under my skin.
It doesn’t help.
Every time I blink, I see her.
Struggling.Crying.Frightened.
Her scent lingers like a ghost against the back of my throat, sweet and desperate, calling to parts of me I didn’t know existed.
Sunlight shifts slowly across the floorboards.Noon.Afternoon.Evening.The sky bleeds gold, then bruises to purple and navy.
My wolf howls inside my chest when night finally falls.Now, now, now!Go.
He doesn’t need to tell me twice.
I’m showered and dressed already.Wearing dark clothes.Boots are soft-soled and worn in.Light layers.Nothing that makes noise when I move.Every decision rooted in instinct honed across a lifetime of staying alive.
Weapons?None visible.A slim blade strapped to my thigh.Nonlethal first.Kill only if they force me.
I catch my reflection briefly.I look like what I am—a predator trying to be patient.
Christian meets me at the edge of the woods as the others gather, shapes in the shadows.Low murmurs.Grim determination.I can feel the tension running through the group.
He nods toward the path.“Ready?”