Page 29 of Marked For A Bite (Rebellious Mates #2)
TWENTY-FOUR
LOGAN
L ogan lay naked beneath the crimson glow of the Blood Moon as snow crystals melted against his heated skin.
He stared at that bright full moon, still in shock at what had just happened.
His tactical mind, always calculating odds and analyzing threats, struggled to process the miracle that had just saved his life.
I was dying. Actually dying. I saw the light—that brilliant, all-consuming brightness that pulled at my consciousness like a tide.
But in that moment of surrender, his wolf had spoken with absolute clarity. Claim her. She will save you.
The memory of that otherworldly guidance still thrummed through his enhanced senses. His wolf had known something Logan's human consciousness couldn't grasp—that this sacred clearing, this Blood Moon, this moment of complete vulnerability would unlock powers that had been dormant for centuries.
Zoe's healing ability had manifested after he'd marked her neck, and she drew the wolfsbane poison from his body like she'd been born for that exact purpose. Which, according to the ancient prophecy, she had been.
My mate. My fierce, incredible mate who just pulled me back from the brink of death.
Zoe still clung to him with desperate intensity, her naked body pressed against his as though she could keep him anchored to this world through sheer force of will.
"We really should get moving," Logan said reluctantly.
The practical part of his brain, the part that had kept him alive through countless dangerous missions, was already calculating their next moves.
"We need to get back to Silvercrest territory and make sure your father got out of that experimentation lab safely. "
Zoe's head snapped up quickly. Her hazel eyes went wide with panic and guilt.
"Oh my God, I completely forgot about him!" She scrambled off Logan's body, snow immediately clinging to her bare skin. "I was so focused on saving you that I—what if something went wrong? What if they didn't get him out? What if?—"
"Hey." Logan caught her wrist gently but firmly. "Kieran and Maya know what they're doing. Your father is in good hands."
But he could see the self-recrimination building in her expression, and the way she was already blaming herself for prioritizing his life over her father's rescue.
"I don't have any clothes here," Zoe said, suddenly seeming to realize their predicament as she glanced around the sacred clearing.
Logan's lips curved into the first genuine smile he'd felt in hours. "We can shift into our wolf forms. But I need you to shift first so I can secure some gear to your back."
He gestured to the scattered tactical equipment that surrounded them. Two Glocks, four knives, and various holsters—all essential gear that he couldn't afford to leave behind.
"So, you want me to play your pack mule right now?" Zoe's eyebrow arched in a way that made his wolf preen. Even naked and covered in snow, she maintained that stubborn streak that had first captivated him.
"No. I want you to help me get us home safely," Logan corrected, standing and brushing snow from his skin. "Unless you prefer running naked through Granite Ridge territory where any passing patrol might get ideas."
"Well, when you put it that way."
Zoe's transformation was becoming smoother each time she shifted, her body adapting to the dual nature that had been suppressed for too long. Her wolf form emerged in a fluid display of power and grace, her dark brown fur with honey patches gleaming under the moonlight.
Logan worked efficiently, securing his shoulder holster with the twin Glocks across her wolf back, adjusting the straps to accommodate her smaller frame. "This might feel strange, but it won't hurt you."
Her wolf eyes met his with trust that still amazed him. After everything she'd been through—the attack at her home, the revelation about her father, and the dangerous rescue mission—she still looked at him like he could solve any problem and face any threat.
"Can you carry this in your mouth without the blade cutting you?" Logan held up the holster containing his father's hunting knife.
Zoe's wolf form carefully took the leather holster between her teeth, demonstrating the dexterity that came naturally to experienced shifters. She'd adapted to her wolf nature with remarkable speed, another testament to the power flowing through her bloodline.
Logan's own shift felt different now, enhanced somehow by their completed mate bond. His russet wolf form emerged larger and more imposing than before, muscles coiled with predatory grace as he gathered the remaining three holstered knives in his powerful jaws.
Together we're stronger. The prophecy wasn't just about her special abilities—it was about what we'd become when we were finally united.
They ran through the moonlit forest with supernatural speed, their wolf forms moving in perfect synchronization across the mountainous terrain.
Logan's enhanced senses mapped every shadow, every scent, and every potential threat as they crossed from Granite Ridge territory back into Silvercrest lands.
The snow had stopped falling, but their breath still misted in the cold mountain air as they covered miles in what felt like minutes.
His cabin came into view just as the Blood Moon began its descent toward the horizon, the reinforced structure looking like the fortress it had become over five years of careful modifications.
They shifted back to human form on his porch, their naked bodies steaming in the frigid air as Logan quickly unlocked the front door.
"Inside, now, before we freeze," Logan commanded, ushering Zoe through the doorway.
They dumped his tactical gear on the coffee table before heading to his bedroom for clothes. Logan pulled on dark jeans and a thermal henley while Zoe slipped into one of her sweaters, followed by her dark jeans.
She looks perfect.
Logan's backup phone rang before they'd finished dressing.
"This is Logan."
"Thank god, you're alive," Kieran's voice carried relief and exhaustion in equal measure. "We got everyone out. All twenty-five prisoners, including Zoe's father. Maya and Lena are treating the worst cases, but they're all alive."
Logan's shoulders sagged with relief. "How is Zoe's father doing?"
Logan glanced at his mate, who was hanging on every word despite only hearing his side of the conversation. Her hazel eyes burned with desperate hope and barely contained anxiety.
"Weak but stable. He's been asking for her," Kieran said.
Twenty-five years of imprisonment and experimentation, and the first thing he does is ask for his daughter. That's what a real father does.
Logan's chest tightened with an emotion he couldn't quite name. His own father had died protecting family, and seeing that same fierce paternal love extending across decades of separation hit harder than expected.
"Where is he now?"
"Rebel safehouse about ten minutes from your cabin."
"We're on our way."
Logan ended the call and turned to face Zoe, whose green sweater brought out the gold flecks in her eyes that had become so much more pronounced since her abilities manifested.
"He's weak but stable, and asking for you," Logan said gently.
Zoe immediately grabbed her backup boots from her backpack, jamming her feet into them with jerky, desperate movements. Her fingers fumbled with the laces as emotion overwhelmed her motor skills.
"I need to get to him. Right now." Her voice cracked as she bolted toward the door.
"Wait up." Logan hurried after her, grabbing his own boots.
His body still felt the lingering effects of the wolfsbane poisoning, a weakness that his enhanced healing was steadily burning away but hadn't completely erased.
"We need weapons. There could still be Granite Ridge patrols searching for escaped prisoners. "
And I'll be damned if anything happens to either of you on my watch.
Zoe paused at the door, her hand already on the handle. "You're right. Sorry, I'm just?—"
"You're about to actually talk to your father for the first time in twenty-five years. You're allowed to be rattled."
Logan strapped on his shoulder holster with twin Glocks, the familiar weight grounding him back into his tactical mindset. He handed Zoe her custom leather harness, watching as she secured her knives with the efficient movements he'd drilled into her.
"We'll take the Jeep," Logan decided. "Faster, and I'm still recovering my full strength."
The drive to the safehouse felt simultaneously eternal and too brief.
Logan's hands gripped the wheel as his tactical mind cataloged the potential threats—Granite Ridge search parties and human hunters who might still be tracking Zoe.
But beneath the professional assessment, he felt Zoe's emotional turbulence through their newly completed mate bond.
She's terrified he won't be everything she's hoped for. Terrified he will be. Terrified of losing him again before they've even had a chance to really know each other.
The safehouse appeared through the trees, a modest cabin that served as one of many rebel hideouts scattered throughout the territory. Logan parked and immediately scanned the perimeter before allowing Zoe to exit.
"Ready for this?" Logan asked gently, placing a steadying hand on her lower back.
Zoe nodded, though her breathing had gone shallow with anticipation.
The door opened before they reached it. Maya appeared, her copper hair disheveled and her practical clothes stained with medical supplies.
"He's been waiting for you," Maya said softly to Zoe, stepping aside.
The interior of the safehouse buzzed with quiet activity. Several of the rescued prisoners sat on makeshift beds, being tended by Lena and other pack members. But Logan's attention focused immediately on the figure sitting in a chair near the back corner.