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“Alta!” Cas yelled from somewhere in the dark. Footsteps thundered through the underbrush, growing closer.

Without the protection of my coat, my teeth chattered, threatening to shatter, and my body seized tighter around the whimpering dog in my lap. What felt like hours later, the ground shuddered beneath me. Frozen and lost in the certainty of my death, I barely registered Cas’s face in mine, hands cupping my cheeks.

“Alta,” he gritted out. The hands holding me trembled, or maybe it was me. “What the fuck are you—”

Unable to get words out about the killer, the looming threat, I focused on the bloody mass of fur in my arms. “Benny?” I begged. “Benny, wake up, buddy.” Slick wetness coated my hands each time I rubbed down his furry chest.

Still too cold. Tugging him closer, I wrapped both arms around his neck and tucked his limp head beneath my chin. Only the short puffs of air against my neck told me he was holding on.

“Alta.” Sympathy dripped in his tone. “He’s gone.”

“No,” I gritted out. “He’s breathing!” I carefully shifted his heavy frame to the ground so I could stand. “We need to get him to the vet. Now!” I screamed. “Save him. Somebody save him. Please.”

Two hands dipped beneath my arms and hauled me up. I clenched my teeth as more and more anger flowed through my blood. “Get off me,” I yelled. Jerking my arms back, my elbow slammed into something hard, and the hands restraining me released enough for me to squirm to freedom. Before I could kneel, strong arms wrapped around mine like a vise, holding them to my sides as I floated in the air.

“Stop,” I screamed while flailing my legs and shoulders to get out of the person’s hold. Sobbing, my tears mixed with mucus from my nose as I repeated Benny’s name over and over. Maybe he didn’t hear me. He could be okay, just asleep. Yeah, asleep.

“He has to be okay. He has to be,” I repeated.

“Take her back to the cabin,” Cas ordered. His voice cracked at the end, giving away the flood of emotions he wouldn’t let show. “Fuck, where is he bleeding?” With the light from his phone, he searched through Benny’s blood-matted fur. “There.” He tossed his phone to the ground, ripped off his shirt and shoved it against the still-seeping wound. “I’ll get him to an animal hospital.” With that, Cas scooped Benny up with ease and sprinted in the direction of the cabin.

I screamed at nothing in particular, needing an outlet for the fear and sorrow bubbling inside me. “Tell them to save him,” I pleaded. “He has to be okay. He’s my best friend.”

“Okay, Birdie, okay.” All the fight drained what little energy I had left from the day, making me turn limp in Chandler's arms. “Birdie?”

His voice grew muffled in my thundering ears. Every muscle tensed as shock took hold, violently jolting me in his arms. Soon we were moving. My bones and teeth rattled with each stomp through the dead leaves and rocky terrain. The soul-snuffing numbness I never wanted to feel again settled like a thick, impenetrable fog, shutting down each muscle one by one.

By the time Chandler stomped up the cabin steps with me still in his arms, nothing had obeyed my command. Only the involuntary reflex of breathing kept me alive.

And at that point, I prayed my lungs would follow suit, allowing me to slip into the peace only death could grant.

27

Cas

Dried blood,patches of fur, and streaks of mud coated the expanse of my chest and up both arms. The heaviness of Benny’s dead weight triggered long-buried memories. Each step with him in my arms was almost too painful to endure. All I could do in the grueling five-minute sprint back to the cabin as I ducked and weaved through the trees and rocks was relate his weight to that of a dead soldier, a dead friend.

Those were the painful, ugly wounds I kept locked away, hidden from those who would see it as a weakness. Alone, I was stronger. Alone, I was free. And the sadness draining my heart due to the gravely injured dog in my arms was a rude reminder of what happened when I got too close.

After racing through town I screeched the Suburban into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour vet hospital, barreled through the double doors with Benny in my arms. I didn’t say a single word. I couldn’t. The woman behind the desk did a wide-eyed double take before springing into action, yelling at doctors and me to hurry back. Loss engulfed me as his limp body slid from my arms onto the operating table. Staring down, I gave myself five seconds to mourn the dog who didn’t deserve the pain he was in. Four seconds—I allowed tears to well as my heart clenched for the woman who could potentially lose her best friend. Three seconds—I let one tear slip through. Two seconds—bending forward, I brushed the thick fur of Benny’s neck, silently vowing to protect her with my life until he could once again. One second—one last pat on the head, one final goodbye before someone tugged me away. Nurses and doctors huddled around him, not paying me any attention now that they had him.

I left my number, credit card information, and specific instructions on evidence I wanted collected from Benny with the wide-eyed receptionist. Following her gaze, I winced at my still-bare chest. With a final reminder to call me with any updates, I pushed through the heavy metal doors and climbed back into the SUV, desperate to get back to my Lady.

At the cabin, I paused at the first porch step to roll both shoulders, hoping to ease the painful tension in my aching muscles. Eyes closed, I mentally prepared myself for what needed to happen next. Seeing her in shambles earlier shredded a piece of my heart I didn’t even know existed, and it hurt like I never imagined emotional pain could cause. But I had to go in there. I had to take care of my Lady, even if I would rather die than see her in agony again.

A pang of dread reverberated through my core with each step toward the door.

I was a fucking marine, yet I was terrified to walk into a cabin with zero hostiles, all because seeing the woman I loved in pain had the potential to kill me faster than ten automatic rifles pointed at my chest.

The door creaked faintly as I pushed it open wide with two fingers.

Stealing whatever bit of courage I could muster, I stepped into the cabin.

Chandler’s laser-focused eyes were sad and red-rimmed. Slowly, he lowered the 9mm, allowing it to rest beside him on the couch. Still in his arms, tucked against his chest, Alta blinked at the ceiling without a single response as I moved closer.

“She can’t stay here tonight,” I said, grimacing at her blood-streaked face.

Chandler nodded.