Page 26

Mark found one of the trees marking the edge of his territory. There, he stripped from his clothes and laid them neatly beneath a bed of leaves. Deep inside him, his wolf howledand scratched at him, eager to break free and run wild. To track the creatures responsible for tearing apart his pack.

That spark of anger rose inside of him, and in a flash, his arms and legs began to morph, black fur sprouting on his muscled arms and body. Within a minute, he was on all fours, shaking out his shaggy coat and clawing at the earth beneath his feet.

His wolf self became him, his human mind giving in to the primal essence that was his shifter nature. The first thing his wolf did once the shift was complete was throw its head back, letting a rippling howl flow through him, echoing through the trees around him.

Oh man, that felt good. Filled with all that primal energy, the earthy scent of the forest, the delicious smell of prey, the crisp sounds of the forest ... everything came into focus, swirling around in his mind and senses. Beneath it all, he smelled Jennifer. She was so far away, back at the mansion, but he smelled her, all the same.

His mate. She had to be—she smelled like him, the piece he'd been missing his whole life. The woman he wanted to make love to every day for the rest of his days. Mark shook his head, trying to keep his wolf's primal, sexual nature from taking control. He wanted Jennifer, and he would have her again tonight ... but right now, he had a job to do.

He had to keep her and Arabelle safe.

When it was just him living out here, it ultimately hadn't mattered when or how the goblins struck, only that they inevitably would, unless he found them first. But now Mark had the motivation to find them before they found him.

He would take them out before they had achanceto threaten his new family.

Mark leaned into his wolf senses again, this time pushing Jennifer's scent aside in search of signs of the goblins. Over the last few days, since he picked up their scents nearby, he knew that they'd all been around the river further north.

He sniffed in that direction, shifting soil and leaves beneath his nose and paws. About halfway to the river, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. As far as he could tell, they hadn't come in this direction—yet.

Although all his senses were on high alert for signs of goblins or any other bad-news creatures, being in his wolf form out in the woods had a naturally calming effect on him. Seldom did he give in to his animalistic nature while in his human form, but as a wolf, he let it all free. He wasn't sure how shifters like Jake who spent most of their time in the city could leave all that energy pent-up for days at a time or longer.

Out here, in the wilds, was where Mark felt truly free. Himself.

Out here, or with Jennifer.

A sour, unwashed scent prickled Mark's nose as he came closer to the river. It was further south than the goblins had come since the first time they almost uncovered his mansion several years ago, which was a cause for concern in itself ... but it was a natural progression. Today, their scent drifted much further than he was comfortable with.

And it was fresh, as though they had been here within the last couple of hours or so.

His wolf-self snarled, a vicious sound, representative of just how badly he wanted to tear the little shits apart for destroying his pack. For so long, Mark had played the careful game, but he was done with that. He wanted to tear them apart sooner rather than later.

He followed the scent through the trees and underbrush, aware of just how fresh it was, how it grew stronger with each step he took. The fur on his hackles raised with anticipation of finding one.

Mark was so focused on following the trail, imagining biting into one of the goblins and ripping it to shreds, that it wasn't until he saw the first markers indicating the edge of his property that he realized just where the trail was going.

He stopped, looked around. The scent came up right around to the northernmost edge of his territory, curling along the edge as if they were searching for a way in. Thankfully, Mark's extra layers of natural elven protective spells kept the goblins out without them seeming to realize just what they were dealing with.

But that didn't make him feel any better when he reached a small clearing. There, the scent trail deepened, as if a goblin had been waiting there for a long time. And it was fresh, from within the last hour or so. Mark stifled a growl, eyes flicking through the trees and bushes.

When he saw nothing, that didn't make him feel much better. He had the sense of being watched ... he just didn't know where from.

More importantly, when his eyes searched down from the trees and into the ground in front of him, he spotted tracks. Goblins were light-footed and rarely left evidence of their presence besides their distinct, disgusting smell, but the footprints were unmistakable. This wasn't just one or two goblins searching around ... there were at least half a dozen, all of them parading around.

They were getting close.

They knew their treasure was around here somewhere. And they were ready to reclaim it.

Leaves crunched in the nearby bushes. Mark whirled around in the direction of the sound, haunches raised, a growl in his throat. From the underbrush, a set of demonic red eyes glittered, looking out at him.

Then the creature hidden there giggled like a small child, disappearing into the trees.

Mark made after it. After several tense steps toward the trees, he stopped, snarling, warning it to stay away from his home.

Every part of his being screamed at him to run after it. Kill it before it could come back.

But he just spotted tracks of a dozen other goblins. For all he knew, multiple of them could be waiting in the bushes for him, ready to spring out and attack. He, alone, wouldn't stand a chance against so many goblins ... no matter how strong he was.

His pack hadn't survived them. He, alone, wouldn't, either.