Page 20 of Howl For A Kiss (Rebellious Mates #3)

EIGHTEEN

DAMON

T he November sunlight slanted through the cavern entrance, cutting across Damon's face and pulling him from the most peaceful sleep he'd experienced in years.

Elena lay curled against his chest, her blonde hair spilling across his bare skin and her breathing soft.

The dying embers of their fire cast a warm glow over her naked form, and for a heartbeat, Damon allowed himself to savor the sight of his mate in his arms.

Then his enhanced hearing picked up what had woken him—footsteps crunching through snow, still distant but approaching with military precision. Multiple sets.

His wolf surged to attention, every protective instinct screaming as he counted at least eight operatives moving through the blizzard-ravaged terrain toward their hideout. The scent of metal and gunpowder carried on the wind, confirming his worst fears.

"Elena." His voice was low but urgent as he shook her shoulder gently. "We need to move. Now."

She stirred, those striking eyes with their gold rings fluttering open. For a moment, confusion clouded her features, then awareness sharpened her gaze as she registered his tension.

"What is it?"

"Human operatives. Eight of them, maybe more." Damon was already moving, his body coiled with lethal efficiency. "They're less than a quarter mile out and closing fast."

Elena shot upright, her tactical mind immediately engaged despite being jarred from sleep. She reached for her white lace bra and panties, pulling them on with quick, practiced movements. Damon couldn't help but watch the fluid grace of her motions—even in crisis, she was magnificent.

Focus , his wolf growled. Protect mate first. Admire later.

He grabbed her thermal black shirt from the pile of discarded clothes, holding it out to her. "How did they find us so quickly?"

"Thermal tracking, most likely." Elena tugged the shirt over her head, then reached for her beige cargo pants. "The human operatives have been upgrading their surveillance tech. I should have anticipated it."

Damon's jaw clenched as guilt twisted in his gut.

He should have thought of that too. Should have moved them to a more secure location instead of letting his guard down completely after their night of passion.

The partial bite mark on her neck caught his eye—angry red against her pale skin—and another wave of self-recrimination hit him.

He'd nearly let his wolf take complete control in the heat of their joining and claimed her fully without her explicit permission. What kind of mate did that make him?

"Stop." Elena's voice cut through his brooding as she yanked on her boots. "I can practically hear you beating yourself up. We don't have time for it."

She was right, as usual. Damon moved to help her with her tactical gear, his hands steady despite the urgency thrumming through his veins. He lifted her shoulder holster, settling the straps carefully over her shoulders and adjusting the fit with methodical precision.

"Arms up," he murmured, and she complied without question.

The trust in that simple gesture sent a possessive thrill through him. She was letting him armor her and prepare her for battle. His mate, his responsibility, his to protect.

Next came her hip holster with its familiar weight of knives. His fingers brushed against her waist as he secured the belt, and Elena's breath hitched slightly. Even now, with danger closing in, the mate bond crackled between them like lightning.

"Thigh straps," he said, kneeling to wrap the ammunition belts around her legs. He was careful around her bandaged gunshot wound, his touch gentle but efficient. The sight of that injury made his wolf snarl with protective rage.

"How's the pain?" he asked as he secured the ankle holster with her backup knife.

"Manageable." Elena's voice was steady, but he caught the slight wince as she shifted her weight. "What's the plan?"

Damon rose to his full height, every inch the dominant Beta despite his nudity. "I shift. You climb on my back again. We outrun them to Cade's compound."

"Can you handle my weight through the blizzard-ravaged terrain?"

The concern in her voice made something warm unfurl in his chest. Even facing immediate danger, she was worried about him. "I can handle anything when it comes to protecting you."

Without further hesitation, he shifted into his wolf form.

The transformation rippled through him like lightning, bones reshaping and muscles expanding until his large wolf form filled the cavern.

His dark brown fur with that distinctive white patch near his heart—the mark that somehow echoed Elena's pure white wolf—gleamed in the early morning sunlight.

Elena moved without hesitation, climbing onto his back with the fluid grace of someone who trusted him completely. Her thighs gripped his flanks, and her hands threaded through his thick fur, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. His mate, riding him away from danger.

Through the mate bond, he sensed her determination mingling with his own protective fury. They would survive this. He would make sure of it.

The sound of voices reached them—closer now, maybe two hundred yards out.

Time to run , Damon thought, and launched himself toward the cavern entrance into the swirling snow and wind.

His powerful wolf form cut through the blizzard with lethal grace, each stride eating up ground as Elena's thighs gripped his flanks.

The mate bond pulsed between them, her trust flowing through the connection like liquid fire in his veins.

This—protecting his mate in the most primal way possible—felt like his purpose now.

Not Beta duties or Council obligations, but this: shielding Elena from harm with his own body.

Mine to protect. Always.

The forest blurred past in a wash of white and brown as they traversed several miles of thick, snowy terrain.

Elena's weight felt perfect against his back, her hands steady in his fur.

Through their bond, he sensed her tactical mind calculating distances and escape routes even as she trusted him to carry them to safety.

Halfway to Cade's compound, Damon's wolf ears picked up the sound he'd been dreading—more footsteps. His enhanced hearing caught the whistle of something cutting through the air a split second before Elena's sharp warning.

"Damon, incoming!"

He pivoted hard to the right, feeling Elena's body shift expertly with his movement. An arrow buried itself in the snow where they'd been moments before, its black fletching stark against the white ground.

Ambush. Multiple positions.

Four human operatives materialized from behind snow-covered trees, their tactical gear making them nearly invisible against the winter landscape. The Council had positioned them strategically throughout the forest—these weren't the same operatives from the cavern.

"Kill her!" one shouted, raising a crossbow. "Orders are to take her head as proof!"

Rage exploded through Damon's wolf form like molten steel. They wanted to hurt his mate. The protective fury that surged made his vision sharpen to deadly focus.

Another arrow whistled toward Elena. Damon twisted violently, taking the projectile meant for her heart.

The iron tip punched deep into his right flank with a sickening thud, pain lancing through his body with white-hot intensity.

He stumbled but didn't fall, his wolf's determination overriding the agony.

Protect mate. Nothing else matters.

"Damon!" Elena's voice cracked with fury and something deeper—the fierce protectiveness of a mate seeing her other half wounded.

She shifted mid-leap from his back, her clothes shredding as her rare white wolf form materialized in a burst of ethereal beauty. Her wolf was smaller than his but moved like liquid moonlight, all deadly grace and predatory intelligence.

The sight of Elena's wolf fighting beside him sent primal satisfaction coursing through Damon despite the arrow protruding from his flank. His mate. His equal. His partner in all things.

Together, they became a symphony of lethal efficiency.

Elena's white wolf darted between the operatives with supernatural speed while Damon's larger form bulldozed through their ranks.

His jaws found the throat of the first man before the human could reload his crossbow.

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but his wolf felt only grim satisfaction.

Threaten mate. Pay with life.

Elena's wolf form took down two of the operatives in succession, her smaller size allowing her to slip beneath their guards and tear out their throats with supreme agility before they could react.

The remaining operative tried to flee, but Damon's powerful haunches launched him forward in a devastating tackle that ended the threat permanently.

When the last enemy fell, Elena immediately shifted back to human form, her naked body gleaming with perspiration despite the cold. "We need to get that arrow out. There's a Tidewater rebel safehouse two miles northeast."

Damon's wolf form swayed slightly as adrenaline began to fade, leaving only the burning agony in his right flank. The arrow had gone deep, and he could feel warm blood seeping through his fur with each labored breath.

Elena climbed back onto his wolf form, her touch infinitely gentle around the protruding arrow. "Hold on, my fierce mate."

My fierce mate. Even through the pain, those words sent infinite warmth through him. She saw him not as Beta, but as hers . Her mate. Her equal.

The rebel safehouse appeared through the swirling snow like salvation—a modest cabin with reinforced windows and the subtle defensive positioning that marked it as a rebel stronghold. Elena slid from his back and pounded on the door with desperate urgency.

"Open up! Medical emergency!"

The door flew open to reveal three Tidewater rebels, their faces shifting from suspicion to alarm as they took in the scene—a naked, blood-covered woman and a massive wolf with an arrow buried in his flank.

"Jesus, Elena! What happened?" The lead rebel, a grizzled man with silver stubble, immediately moved to help.

"Human operatives ambush." Elena's voice remained steady despite the panic Damon could sense through their bond. "He's losing too much blood."

Damon shifted back to human form as the rebels lifted him, the transformation sending fresh waves of agony through his wounded side. The arrow protruded obscenely from his abdomen, and he could feel his strength ebbing with each heartbeat.

"Stay with me," Elena commanded, her survival training taking over as they carried him inside. "Don't you dare leave me now that I've finally found you."

The world began to blur at the edges, but Damon forced his eyes to remain fixed on Elena's face. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders like a curtain of gold, and those unique blue eyes burned with fierce determination.

"Not going anywhere," he managed through gritted teeth. "You're stuck with me."

Elena's hands pressed against the wound around the arrow, trying to staunch the bleeding. "Patrick, get me hot water, clean cloth, and the strongest alcohol you have. Now!"

Damon felt the rebel safehouse's healer—a middle-aged woman with steady hands—join Elena beside the makeshift table where they'd placed him. Together, they worked with practiced efficiency to assess the damage.

"The arrow missed major organs," the healer murmured, "but it's gone deep into muscle. This is going to hurt."

"Just do it," Elena said before Damon could respond. "Just save him."

The last thing Damon saw before darkness claimed him was Elena's face hovering above his, her expression fierce with protective love and unwavering determination. His mate. His everything.

Then consciousness slipped away like smoke, but not before his wolf whispered with absolute certainty: She will keep us safe.