Page 65 of Mate

She’s a small wolf. Cream and white colored, with the same dark brown eyes as her human form, and pale yellow ears that are large for her body and more pointed than most. Her thick tail and delicate muzzle have a few light markings that make her utterly unique.

So pretty, he thinks that if she were the last thing he saw, he wouldn’t mind. Not at all.

T HEY TOOK MY TRACKER AND LEFT ME BEHIND, WHICH IS NOT how I thought it would go.

Irene must know that the Northwest is going to notice that it’s no longer attached to my body, which could mean a handful of things.

At best, she’s aware that something might be off and decided to be cautious.

At worst, she knows exactly what our plan is and opted for using a less valuable bait, outfit it with my tracker, and let it be a casualty of the fight that will break out.

It , because I don’t want to believe that Irene would sacrifice one of the Favored.

The moment I’m fully awake, I yell into my gag. Writhe. Make a scene. One guard, a man with gray hair and a long beard, watches me for a few minutes. Then he sighs, comes closer, and frees my mouth. “What is it?”

Where the fuck did they go? would be my conversation starter of choice, but I settle for “I have to go to the bathroom.” It’s not even a lie.

He and the younger guard share a look. “Just . . . go.”

“Where?”

They seem confused.

“You want me to just piss myself?”

“I mean . . . yeah.”

I consider pulling a Do you know who my father is? but decide to go a little subtler. “Irene would let me keep my dignity.” Classy, if I say so myself.

“Would she?” Beard seems doubtful. He glances at the gun next to his right hand, then at the younger man, who’s clearly not in charge.

Unlike Beard, he looks properly intimidated by the idea of being on Irene’s shit list. “Maybe. But I’ve watched enough TV to predict how the take me to the bathroom, untie me for just a second shebang always ends. ”

“Have you?”

He nods, proud of his clairvoyance.

I sigh. “Okay, listen— don’t untie me. Don’t even take me outside. How about you just lower my pants and underwear so I don’t have to sit in my own urine for the foreseeable future? Your buddy can hold me at gunpoint so I don’t try anything. Not that I could, since my arms and my feet are tied up.”

Beard thinks it through, finds no objections, and the rest is easy enough. Not very smart of them, to assume that I’d need someone else to untie me. Then again, they have no idea I can shift.

I feel the rush of power, of rightness , as my fingers sharpen into claws.

In Were form, my wrists are slim enough that I can easily angle them to tear into the rope.

Beard comes closer to help me with my bathroom emergency, and overpowering him is a matter of a couple of blows.

As I suspected, his young buddy is far too intimidated by the situation to shoot the gun and kill Constantine’s prodigal kid.

Once Beard is groaning on the floor, he tosses the weapon and runs away.

I savor the delicious pain in my bones as I shift into my wolf form. It’s been a long time, too long. Every single one of my cells welcomes me as I settle into them.

Whatever’s left of my Human mind feels a bit guilty about tackling the boy and leaving him out of commission, remembering what Koen said about the cult and its habit to shield Weres with Humans. A bit, but not enough to stop me.

The forest is my home. She beckons me. Urges me forward.

Embraces me like I’m worthy of her, always will be.

I set off after the cult, tracking their scent, following every trace of their passage.

Humans, in particular, are easy to stalk.

Tire marks. Shoe prints. The occasional littering.

They didn’t bother concealing their trail , the forest whispers.

I’ll tell you everything you need to know. I will lead you to them.

I lope for ten minutes. Or hours. I can’t tell time in this form, only sequences.

Events. Cause and effect. My hindbrain is larger, and everything is instinct, clear cut.

Either good or bad. Want or fuck, no . Friend or foe.

There is no compromise, because I’m the undiluted essence of myself.

I am insignificant. I am hunger and love and joy. I am the pack, and the pack is me.

Then I spot flames.

Hear screams and shots.

Smell smoke.

My wolf brain doesn’t understand . All it sees is chaos and hurt, adrenaline and anger.

I gallop toward the battleground, leaving behind the thickest part of the forest. There is a fire, one that started in the clearing and is rapidly spreading to the trees.

I can barely breathe. The heat is so intense, my fur feels singed.

Leave , my instincts scream at me. Leave.

But I spot Pavel. His neck is almost entirely in the powerful jaws of another wolf, a fawn-colored one I don’t recognize. When Pavel unsuccessfully tries to free himself, I race toward him and sink my fangs into the vulnerable side of the other wolf ’s belly.

No one has taught me how to fight in this form, but I know anyway. I know .

The fawn wolf manages to throw me off. By Were standards I’m not a fearsome creature, but I puff myself up, trying to appear larger. I growl. I raise my tail. When he crouches, ready to charge, I do the same— and then howl in triumph as Pavel takes him by surprise and pins him to the ground.

Around me, Humans scream, firing their weapons. A glance tells me that the cult is overwhelmed and rapidly losing ground. That’s when I spot Koen and learn what real fear is.

He’s still in human form. I growl— What the hell is he waiting for?— but he cannot hear me. Unlike everyone else, he’s running toward the source of the fire. I dart after him, ready to hook my teeth in his neck and pull him away. Then I realize what his goal is.

A girl. A Human girl that I can barely make out through the flames— except for her auburn hair. She’s on the ground, unconscious, and he’s trying to rescue her.

Nele’s sister.

Waves of heat lick at me, and I watch Koen disappear through the blaze. I let out a soft whine, running around the perimeter of the fire, turning away to cough. I snarl. I bark. I wait for him to reappear for several seconds. Or years.

Then, like the idiot that I am, I follow him in.

Stupid , a voice yells at me. But it adds, Help! Him!

It’s impossible to breathe. Jaw open wide, tongue lolling, I track his steps and leap in relief when I see him exiting the fire from another direction, carrying the girl’s unconscious body.

I chase after him, trying to keep the smoke out of my lungs.

Koen runs past the flames, lays the girl down on the grass, and puts his ear by her mouth, looking for a sign of life.

I’m trotting to him, and that’s when I see Irene.

She’s naked and barefoot. Doesn’t notice me, because Koen and the girl are right between us. Unfortunately, I’m almost sure Koen doesn’t notice her , either. He’s focused on giving CPR to Nele’s sister, and he never turns around, not even as Irene lifts something that looks a lot like a rifle.

My fur bristles along my spine. In an instant, my fear explodes into pure, roaring rage.

Not on my fucking watch, Auntie.

I clack my teeth, meaning to warn Koen. The problem is, he turns toward me and instantly recognizes me, despite never having seen my wolf form. I feel his relief and joy and everything else like a shock wave, reverberating through me.

Behind him, though, Irene is taking aim.

My next move is primal instinct, something beyond reason and thought. I watch her adjust the mouth of the barrel, and sprint toward her as fast as I can. I leap above Koen and the girl, careening toward the rifle, ready to rip into Irene’s throat.

Someone yells my name.

The wind blows the fire toward us.

A sharp, loud crack reverberates throughout the forest.

That’s the last thing I remember.