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T he scream has half the camp racing toward the showers, but I’m the first to get there, entirely unprepared for what I see.

The pretty little omega is stumbling around the back of the shower building, slipping on the sand wearing nothing but a fucking towel. There’s a terrified expression on her face as she runs straight for me. Or tries to run, she’s hobbling, and before she reaches me, she trips, falling into my chest, clawing for purchase. I lose my footing and fall backward with Dr. Cora Whitlock on top of me. Rather than scrambling off like I expect, she throws her arms around my neck and hugs me, burrowing into my body as deep as she can.

“What the hell is going on?”

“J-jackal,” she says at the same time as I hear a thump from within the shower building. Bear is standing above us with his gun drawn .

“You saw a jackal in camp?” he asks, a stoney expression on his face.

“Y-yes, in the shower.” She points back at the building about a hundred feet away. Fuck, she’s shaking worse than the flags whipping in the wind above us. My arms wrap around her wet, trembling body and pull her closer.

Bear takes a step toward the showers, then hesitates.“Is she okay?”

I can feel her heart pounding as I tilt her chin up to study her face. “Hey, are you okay, Cora? Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head. I’m not sure she’s telling the truth, but it’s enough for Bear to leave and head to the showers.

“Are you really alright?” I ask again.

“J-just a little shaken.” She suddenly seems to realize that she’s laying on top of me, because she scrambles off. The quick movement drags down her towel, popping one plump breast free.

Fuck me! She has a small tattoo of a hummingbird, done in vivid watercolor, right there on the lower curve of her breast. As much as I want to get a closer look at it, I don’t want anyone else seeing her like this.

I yank her back down to my chest, using my body to shield her from the prying eyes of the people who came running when she screamed.

“Get lost!” I snarl at them all.

They flee just as Bear comes back out of the shower trailer. With everyone else now gone, I loosen my hold on Cora and look away. “Cover up.”

She looks down and squeaks when she sees the problem. A red blush flames across her chest and cheeks as she quickly yanks the towel up to cover herself. Or at least as covered up as she can be. Why the hell are the towels around here so tiny?

“Well?” I ask Bear as I unbutton my shirt and throw it at Cora. For once, she doesn’t argue with me and immediately puts it on.

“It’s dead,” Bear says, looking over the omega, who’s still trembling.

“You killed it?” The pretty professor looks horrified when she should look relieved.

“It was already dead when I got there.”

“What? How?” I ask, studying Bear’s turned down brows.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says to Cora, gaze falling to her feet.

One heel is covered in blood and teeth marks. A growl bursts from my chest at the sight of the sweet little omega’s marred skin. I want to rip out the throat of the beast who dared hurt her, but her whimpering response to my roar stops me in my tracks. Scooping her up, I haul her against my chest as I stand.

“I’m fine. It’s really just a scratch,” she says, but she curls closer to me in a way that makes me want to purr. I cough to hide the rumble.

“Really, I can walk. Let me?—”

“You’re not walking.” My muscles clench, drawing her closer. The skin of her bare thighs is hot against my forearm, and every time she moves to try to get down, my shirt slides higher. “And stop wiggling!”

She finally stills, her cheeks a bright pink and her eyes watery. Fuck, did I make her cry ?

Bear comes up beside us as we head to the main tent. He carefully takes her foot and looks it over. “You’re right. It doesn’t seem deep. Which is odd ‘cause they can rip through a small deer if they want.”

I shoot a glare at him. Why the hell did he say that? As if poor Cora isn’t frightened enough already.

He reaches for her, signaling for me to give her to him. I know he just wants to patch up her wound, but the thought of a wild animal like that anywhere near Cora has me feeling possessive as fuck. “Is it really dead?”

“As a doornail.”

“How? Who did it, if it wasn’t you?”

Bear gives me a concerned look, like he’s debating whether he should tell me in front of Cora and is looking for guidance. Without knowing what he’s about to say, I can’t really offer any.

He takes a deep breath. “Someone shot it point-blank through the head.”

“Wouldn’t we have heard that?” Cora asks.

That’s not the question on my mind, and I know it’s not the one that has Bear hesitating either. I’m sure there are lots of ways to quiet a gun. My blood runs cold, and I pull Cora closer before reluctantly setting her in Bear’s arms.

“Who did it?” I ask, voice low. A chill skates up my neck because somehow I already know what he’s going to say.

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t one of my men.”