Page 8 of Curvy Hostage Mate (Gold Wolves Black Ops #4)

Two of the attackers lunged for me, one on either side of me, making it impossible to take on both of them at once. The first one came toward me, then feinted while the other attacked. A third joined in, and I was pinned in a corner.

Through the chaos, I heard a scream that was quickly muffled.

Between my attackers, I watched with dread as two dragged Morgan out of the house, one large hand wrapped around her mouth.

I watched as she struggled and writhed, but her arms were pinned to her side, and I knew she wasn’t going to get out of their grasp without help.

Snarling, I rounded back on my attackers, determined to get rid of them as quickly as possible.

My hand swiped out, claws slicing across one of their throats, and he collapsed instantly.

Another managed to claw my flank, tearing the shirt and dragging across flesh.

I gritted my teeth, reaching out and snapping his neck before cutting the final one’s throat with another slash of my claws.

Not giving myself time to breathe, I ran out the door, head whipping around wildly as I searched for their trail.

The second I caught the scent of rosemary and burning incense, I shifted, charging through the woods as I tried to catch them, to get to the kidnappers before they could drag her back through the portal.

My heart pounded, my wolf howling with rage and panic as he desperately tried to get to Morgan.

The thought of them taking her away filled him with so much fury that it was nearly impossible to think straight.

I didn’t care about the wound in my side or the way my front leg throbbed.

All that mattered in that moment was that Morgan was in danger, and I needed to get to her before anything else could happen.

I found them before they got too far. One had shifted, and the other was trying to force Morgan onto the wolf’s back as she continued to thrash and try to get away, her legs kicking in the air and making her kidnapping as difficult as possible.

If I’d had longer, I would have admired her fight.

But I was too focused on keeping her safe.

The wolf caught my scent first. He snarled, rounding on me and charging forward.

He caught me off-guard and bit down on my shoulder.

Pain burst where his teeth dug in, and I barely managed to shake him off.

My jaws bit down on his throat, breaking through fur and skin and crunching through bone.

He stilled, collapsing to the forest floor when I dropped him.

The last two charged toward me. I barreled into one of them, knocking him onto his side before killing him the same way I had the first before the third wolf could get near me.

By the time my attacker stilled, the last wolf was in range.

I rounded on him, drawing my claws across his stomach as deep as I could manage.

He stumbled, yelping pitifully as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering a little before stilling.

Panting, I glanced around, sides heaving. Morgan stood off to one side, eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted as her arms wrapped around her stomach.

I shifted back to human, grimacing at the pain, aware I was naked and not particularly caring at the moment. I trotted over to her, searching her up and down to see if there were any injuries, desperate to know that she was all right, that she was safe.

“Are you okay?” I asked, still breathing heavily as I took in the various bodies on the forest floor.

Morgan took in a deep breath, shivering slightly as her eyes darted from blank face to blank face.

She stared at the corpse nearest her. Stumbling several steps back, she let out a soft squeak as her back pressed against the rough bark.

She started, leaping forward as if expecting the tree to reach out and grab her.

“Morgan?” I reached out and cupped her chin.

She started again slightly before turning to me. She gave an uneasy smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she said. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head, giving a soft half-snort. “No, I’m not. But that doesn’t really matter right now, does it?”

I shook my head. “Honestly? Not really. I hate to be that blunt, but we can’t stay here. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

She nodded. “In that case, we should get moving. I’ll freak out about all the dead bodies later.”

My mouth twitched upward. I looked her up and down, not able to hide my admiration.

She was strong, I’d give her that, even if I doubted she realized it or would believe it if I told her.

Anyone who could get through the panic of seeing a bunch of shifters dying and think about the practicalities of what needed to happen next had a level of strength any black-ops wolf would admire.

Pain lanced across my flank. I grimaced, hand going to my side. When I moved it away, my palm came back sticky with blood. Morgan’s eyes widened as she took in the sight.

“Had worse,” I grunted, reading her expression before she had the chance to say anything.

She shot me an exasperated look. “Men,” she muttered.

She stepped forward. A small burst of bright light, an orb, appeared over her open palm.

She walked over, crouching and studying the injury with a clinical eye, not paying attention to the fact I was naked, too preoccupied with assessing the injury.

“Hold still,” she muttered.

I sucked in a breath of surprise as her palm pressed gently against the wound.

She whispered something under her breath.

A moment later, her hand glowed, a warm, golden light that shone brighter than the orb in her hand.

Something hot seared against my skin, painful only for a moment before becoming oddly pleasant. A minute later, the glow died.

“How’s that?” she asked, stepping back.

I twisted from side to side, surprised that the pain had vanished entirely, not so much as a twinge of muscle pain. “Perfect, actually,” I said, glancing down. There wasn’t even a scar. “Like I was never injured at all.” I returned my gaze to her. “You’re a good healer.”

Morgan blushed, as if pleasantly surprised by the praise. I might have been imagining it, but I could have sworn a small smile played on her lips.

“My dad was a witch, and he did a lot of healing in the village we grew up in. I used to go with him. He showed me some of the basic spells.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I might not be a witch, but I know enough about them to know what you just did isn’t a basic spell. That was impressive.”

“Thanks,” she said.

I was still trying to process what had happened back there.

Normally, I was a pretty rational guy. I typically took my time and thought through things instead of jumping in headfirst. This time, though, it felt as though all rational thought had gone out the window, starting with kidnapping Morgan in the first place.

And then how I’d handled the thugs Cain had sent after us.

What the hell was wrong with me? What was it about Morgan that made me act on impulse, on instinct? I didn’t like it. I was used to being more methodical and rational, the exact opposite of everything I’d been recently.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” I grunted, twisting side to side. “Doesn’t hurt at all. You’re a miracle worker.”

She shook her head, those gorgeous curls swishing with the motion. “I’m not talking about the injury,” she muttered. “Though I’m glad. You just seem distracted, like your thoughts are miles away.”

I raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on my lips. “Are you saying you care about me?” I teased.

She glared. It was cute.

“No,” she said. “But since you refuse to let me go, I want to make sure that my kidnapper is at least in his right mind.”

I cracked a grin, then sobered. “What I want to know right now is how they found us so quickly,” I muttered.

“I know how to hide my scent. They shouldn’t have been able to locate us for another few days at the earliest.” I rubbed my chin, then shook my head and glanced at her.

“Do you know if Cain had any way of tracking his slaves?”

“I might have been his mate—or at least, he wanted me to be—but he made a point not to discuss business with me,” she said. “I don’t think he wanted to give me any ideas on how to circumvent all his precautions. Knowing him, though, I’m sure he had something.”

I stared down at the golden collar glinting around her neck, tilting my head as I studied it.

It was pretty. The emerald jewel in the middle sparkled whenever she moved.

Reaching out, I tapped it, then ran my thumb along its surface.

I didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath Morgan let out as my fingers caressed her bare skin, didn’t miss the way her breasts heaved, but I forced the more primal urges itching to take over to the back of my mind.

I had more important things to worry about right now.

“That emerald,” I murmured. “Have you ever looked closely at it?”

Her brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

“It’s warm,” I explained. “It should be cool, especially after being outside.”

Her fingers went to it, running along it as confusion flickered across her face. “I never noticed that before. I don’t know if I ever really even noticed the emerald in the first place. You think it’s enchanted?”

“You’d know better than I would,” I said. “But I definitely think there’s something off about it.”

Her lips drew into a thin line as she gave a faint scowl.

“Considering I barely remembered it was there despite seeing it in a mirror nearly every day, I wouldn’t be surprised.

There are enchantments that do that sort of thing.

They make it so you don’t notice important things.

There’s a chance there’s a tracking spell on it, so we wouldn’t realize it. It would fit with everything else.”

“I’m guessing you can’t take it off yourself?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Scowling, she shook her head in frustration. “I tried, but part of the enchantment on it means I can’t take it off myself.”

I chewed my lip as I debated with myself, nodding as I finally came to a conclusion.

“I know a witch who can take them off,” I said. “If we hurry, we can make it before midday.”

“You do?” She perked up, eyes glinting with hope and relief. “How can you be sure?”

“She’s the one who got them off your sister.”