Page 4 of Marked For A Bite (Rebellious Mates #2)

THREE

ZOE

Z oe slowly pulled herself up from the oversized armchair, and her legs felt unsteady beneath her.

The Columbia hoodie hung loose on her frame, the soft grey fabric damp with perspiration from two days of fighting her own body.

Her black yoga pants clung to her curves, and she became acutely aware of how disheveled she must look compared to this man who appeared carved from granite and wrapped in tactical efficiency.

Mate.

That whispered word echoed through her consciousness again as she watched him scan the street through her bay window.

The way he positioned himself—never directly in the line of sight and always at an angle that provided cover—spoke of experience with danger that made her pulse quicken for entirely different reasons than fear.

When his large hand had covered her mouth, electricity had shot through every nerve ending like she'd been struck by lightning. Her skin still tingled where he'd touched her, and something deep in her chest pulled toward him with a magnetic force she couldn't explain or resist.

"What did you mean by manifesting?" The question tumbled out as she hurried toward her bedroom, muscle memory guiding her to the closet where her backpack waited.

"Later. Move faster."

His deep voice carried absolute authority that should have rankled her independent spirit.

Instead, it sent an unexpected heat spiraling through her.

Everything about this stranger screamed alpha male—from his commanding presence to the way he owned every inch of space he occupied.

Even his stillness contained coiled energy, like a predator calculating the perfect moment to strike.

Zoe stuffed clothes into her backpack without really seeing what she grabbed. She raised her voice enough so he could hear her down the small hallway. "I don't even know your name."

"Logan," he replied, his voice carrying naturally down the hall toward her bedroom.

The response was short and efficient. Probably the longest answer she'd get until he decided otherwise.

The man clearly wasn't one for small talk or explanations, but something about his presence made the constant whisper in her head quiet for the first time in days.

As if her wolf— her wolf? Where had that thought come from? —recognized him as safety.

Her phone charger went into the bag next, followed by her mother's letter and the few photographs she couldn't bear to lose. The birthmark on her wrist throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and she caught herself glancing toward the living room where Logan maintained his vigilant watch.

Why do I want to trust him? He broke into my house.

But rational thought warred with instinct. Every cell in her body urged her to follow this dangerous stranger wherever he wanted to take her. The need felt primal and undeniable, like recognition coded into her DNA.

"How do you know what's happening to me?" She called out the question while pulling on her tennis shoes, her fingers fumbling with the laces.

"Because I'm like you."

Those four words stopped her cold. "You mean you also have?—"

"Have moments where my body changes rapidly? Where every sense goes haywire and I want to tear apart anyone who threatens me?" His voice carried grim understanding.

Zoe finished tying her shoes with renewed urgency. If Logan understood what was happening to her, maybe he could help her control it. Maybe she wasn't going insane after all.

The sound of breaking glass echoed from somewhere in the house.

"Shit." Logan's voice turned deadly. "Time's up."

Heavy footsteps crashed through her kitchen, and Zoe's blood turned to ice. Multiple voices, harsh and unfamiliar, spoke in clipped tones that sounded military.

"Target is here. Scent trail is fresh."

"Check every room. She's manifesting, so approach with caution."

Logan appeared in her bedroom doorway, every line of his body radiating lethal intent. "Window. Now."

The transformation in him stole her breath—gone was the controlled stranger, replaced by something predatory and absolutely terrifying. His eyes had shifted from deep green to gold, and she glimpsed teeth that looked far too sharp.

"Who are they?" Zoe whispered, shouldering her backpack and clutching her phone.

"People who want to hurt you for what you are." Logan moved to her window, his hands working the latch with practiced efficiency. "And they just made a very big mistake."

Logan pushed the window open, his hands moving with a fluid quickness. The cool evening breeze rushed into her bedroom and Logan's scent drifted towards her—mountain rain and something wild and masculine.

"Out. Now." He positioned himself beside the window frame, one hand extended to help her.

Zoe glanced back toward her bedroom doorway where heavy footsteps thundered closer.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she swung her leg over the windowsill, the backpack's weight pulling at her shoulder.

Logan's grip on her arm burned like electricity, steadying her as she dropped into the small garden bed beneath her window.

She turned back, expecting him to follow immediately. Instead, Logan pivoted toward the approaching threat with a predatory grace that made her breath catch.

The first man entered her bedroom—military buzz cut, tactical vest, and rifle raised. Logan's hunting knife appeared in his hand like magic as he stood behind her opened bedroom door, the blade catching the last rays of dying sunlight streaming through her window.

"Target spotted and escaping through?—"

Logan moved from behind the door like lightning wrapped in human form.

The knife found its mark before the operative could finish his sentence, and Zoe watched in horrified fascination as Logan's body became poetry written in violence.

No wasted movement. No hesitation. Pure, lethal efficiency that spoke of years honing this deadly craft.

The second man appeared in the doorway, his weapon already firing. Logan ducked and rolled, his blade finding soft tissue with surgical precision. The sound of metal meeting flesh and bone made Zoe's stomach clench, but something deeper responded with savage approval.

He's protecting you. He's magnificent.

Blood splattered across her bedroom walls in abstract patterns that would have been beautiful if they weren't so terrifying. Logan dispatched both men with brutal economy, their bodies hitting the hardwood floor with wet thuds that seemed to echo through her bones.

When he vaulted through the window a moment later, Zoe caught the scent rolling off him—adrenaline, testosterone, and something wild that made her wolf stir restlessly beneath her skin.

"Move," he commanded, grabbing her hand.

They ran through the gathering dusk, Logan setting a punishing pace that should have left her gasping.

Instead, her body responded with supernatural endurance that felt both exhilarating and alien.

Her legs carried her down the sidewalk without strain, and her lungs worked with perfect efficiency despite their sprint.

"Three blocks," Logan said, his voice barely winded despite their speed.

His modified Jeep sat like a black predator crouched between two sedans. Military-grade modification gleamed in the streetlight—reinforced bumpers, tinted windows that looked bulletproof, and an engine that purred with barely contained power when Logan turned the key.

"Where are we going?" Zoe buckled her seatbelt with hands that trembled slightly.

"Somewhere safe." Logan pulled into traffic with controlled aggression, his green eyes constantly checking the mirrors. "Away from here."

Within minutes, his jaw tightened. "Fuck."

Zoe twisted to look behind them. A black sedan, two cars back, matching their every turn with suspicious precision.

"Friends of yours?" she asked, surprised by the steadiness in her own voice.

"No." Logan's hands gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity. "Hold on."

He led them on a chase through Portland's winding streets, taking corners that made her stomach flip and running yellow lights with split-second timing. But the sedan stayed with them, persistent as a shadow.

As the city gave way to forested mountains, Logan suddenly pulled the Jeep onto the shoulder and killed the engine.

"What are you doing?" Zoe's voice pitched higher as he opened his door.

"Ending this." He stepped out into the growing darkness, his black jacket making him nearly invisible against the trees.

"Logan, no! Get back in here!" The words tore from her throat with desperate urgency that surprised her. Why did the thought of him in danger make her chest feel like it was caving in?

"Stay in the Jeep." His voice carried that authority that brooked no argument. "I know what I'm doing."

The sedan's doors opened, and two figures emerged with weapons glinting in the moonlight. Professional stance and coordinated movement—more military operatives.

Then Logan began to change.

His bones cracked and reformed with sounds like breaking timber. His clothes shredded as his body expanded, his muscles rippling and reshaping themselves. Dark russet fur erupted across his skin as his face elongated into something magnificently terrifying.

The wolf that stood where Logan had been was massive—easily twice the size of any wolf Zoe had ever seen in documentaries. His fur caught the moonlight like living flame, and his eyes burned with golden intelligence that was still utterly, unmistakably Logan.

He launched himself at the first operative with a snarl that vibrated through Zoe's bones. The man's scream cut short in a wet gurgle as powerful jaws found his throat.

The second operative raised his weapon toward Logan's exposed flank.

Something primal and protective exploded in Zoe. Her rational mind screamed at her to stay safe, but a deeper instinct—her wolf—roared that her mate was in danger.

Protect. Defend. Kill.

Zoe burst from the Jeep without conscious thought.

Heat raced through her veins as her body began its partial transformation.

Claws erupted from her fingernails with sharp pops of pain.

Her canine teeth lengthened and sharpened to deadly points.

Her vision shifted, colors becoming more vivid while shadows revealed their secrets.

She moved faster than humanly possible, covering the distance to the second operative in heartbeats. Her claws raked across his back, shredding tactical gear and finding flesh beneath. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, and instead of revulsion, she felt savage satisfaction.

The man spun toward her with a curse, but Zoe was already moving. Her claws found his throat with instinctive precision, and warm blood splashed across her Columbia hoodie as he dropped.

Silence fell over the forest like a heavy blanket.

Logan padded toward her, his massive wolf form rippling with contained power. When their eyes met, something passed between them—recognition, approval, and something deeper that made her birthmark pulsate with heat.

Then the reality of what she'd done hit her with physical force.

"Oh God." Her voice came out as a strangled whisper. "I killed him. I actually killed someone."

Her hands shook as she stared at the blood coating her claws. The metallic scent that had driven her to savage triumph now made her stomach roil. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed as sobs tore through her chest.

Logan's transformation back to human form happened faster than his shift to wolf. Soon his warm hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears with surprising gentleness.

"Hey." His deep voice carried comfort. "Look at me."

She met his green eyes, seeing pride and concern warring in their depths.

"You did good. You protected me, and I'm grateful." His hands moved to her shoulders, steadying her. "But you can never do that again. It wasn't safe or smart, and I can handle these situations on my own. I'm a trained enforcer."

"Enforcer?" She hiccupped through her tears, trying to look away from his nakedness but failing miserably. "What does that mean?"

"Later." Logan helped her to her feet, his touch gentle despite the authority in his voice. "Get back in the Jeep. I'll try to explain some things, but we need to get to safety first."

As they walked back toward his vehicle, Zoe's mind reeled with questions, but one thought echoed loudest. She'd killed for this man she'd known for less than two hours, the wolf inside her recognizing him as something worth protecting.