Page 56 of Wild Games

Lynn looks up, and they lock eyes from across the rocky beach.

The words hang between them. Zane’s jaw works, wanting to say more, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. But instead, he turns and jogs back through the trees, footsteps fading into the distance, to break the bad news to his brother.

More wolves arrive, streaming onto the beach. Jamie appears with an armload of blankets, her usual cheerful demeanour subdued as she hands them out, wrapping Camille up in one and checking her over. Others are drawn by the commotion, whispers already starting as they take in the scene.

Someone approaches me with caution, a young medic, barely out of training by the look of him. He takes one step too close.

I snarl, wolf bleeding through. The sound rips from my throat, primal and threatening.

He stumbles backward, nearly dropping the blanket.

“Jax.” Dean’s voice carries alpha authority. “Let the medics check you. Both of you.”

She’s mine to protect, mine to care for.

“No one else touches her.”

The medic holds his hands up and retreats while Dean attempts to reason with me.

“She nearly drowned. She needs…”

“I know what she needs, but I said no. I’m the healer. I will care for my mate.” The words come out more growl than speech.

Several wolves step back at the aggression in my tone, but Camille’s hand find mine, squeezing gently. “Jax. I’m okay.”

I shake my head, struggling to believe that’s really true and definitely not ready to hand her over to someone else.

“Everyone back off,” Camille says, voice still weak but carrying that enforcer edge. “Give us a minute.”

They retreat, though I can feel Dean’s disapproval radiating from where he stands ten feet away. His arms cross over his chest, jaw tight.

But I don’t care.

“Hey.” She turns so we’re face to face now, her hands resting on my shoulders. “Look at me.”

I meet her eyes reluctantly, afraid to take my eyes off the wolves surrounding us, waiting for them to rush us and take her away. This close, I can see the exhaustion weighing down her features and how much the weak smile she gives me is sapping her energy. I’m not making her life any easier right now.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says softly. Her thumb strokes along my collarbone; the touch grounding. “But I do need to get warm, and to rest. And so do you.”

Logic tries to penetrate the possessive haze. She’s right. She needs heat, more than I can provide here on a bloodied beach with the wind picking up.

“I’ll take you.” Not a question. “No one else.”

She nods, understanding. “Okay.”

I lift her easily in one smooth motion.

Her arms wrap around my neck automatically, legs around my waist. She tucks her face into my throat, and I feel her exhale against my skin.

The crowd parts, giving us a wide berth. Some watch with concern, others with knowing looks. They recognize what they’re seeing. A mate bond in its rawest form.

Dean falls into step beside us, careful to stay out of claw’s reach. “Not the basement, Jax. The clinic.”

A growl that turns into a grunt of acquiescence when Camille nods. I glance down at her, making sure she’s really okay with that.

“Fine. I know where it is. There’s no need for an escort.” My tone brooks no argument.

He sighs but doesn’t push, hanging back to deal with the mess I’ve left behind.