He’d sensed the danger before she had. Earlier, she’d disobeyed Galen and had run like hell to the house. This time, the threat was a whole lot closer. This time, she needed to heed Galen’s warning about going slow. The man standing in front of her had the same edge to him that Galen carried, only less refined. This man’s edge was feral, dominating, intruding . . . scary as shit.
He was a predator, and didn’t predators love it when their prey was scared? When their prey ran? Her heart pounded, pumping fresh adrenaline through her veins with each thump. This could not be happening. Werewolves? Men turning into monsters? None of this could be real. Yet she’d seen it with her own eyes.
“Such a pretty little thing,” the intruder said. He took a step closer and sniffed at the air. “Mmm. And you smell so fucking good too. Made for us you were.”
“I wasn’t made for anyone. Get out of my house, please,” she said softly.
He laughed. “I don’t think so. I think you are my ticket out of here, sweetheart.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean that if I save you, those angry lycans out there have to believe my story about Galen. Then they’ll kill him.”
“What story?” She desperately wanted to keep him talking. If he was talking, he was keeping a distance. If he was talking, she could continue edging toward the door. If he was talking, he would be distracted, and she might have a chance to escape.
He was big. Not as big as Galen, but big. And he was completely naked. Funny how she hadn’t noticed that until now. She’d been too focused on a plan of escape. Why in the hell was he naked? Several reasons flooded her mind and scared her even more, if that was even possible.
“Enough!” he snarled.
He was on her before she could react. She screamed, tried to break the hold he had on her arm—the one holding the now-useless fire poker. He was ridiculously strong, and her struggles were futile. He dragged her toward the front door.
When they entered the yard, they were suddenly surrounded by five men. One of them was Galen. Her eyes widened when she saw that he was black and blue and covered in blood and dirt from head to toe.
“Let her go, Terrance,” Galen growled.
“Looks like you got a good start on him.” Terrance eyed Galen’s wounds. “Why haven’t you killed him?” he asked the dark-haired man. “He had her locked up in the house. She’s a potential mate. Galen was using her.”
“No! He was not!” Myka protested. “He never hurt me.”
“Shut up!” Terrance screamed. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s been traumatized.”
“We all know you’ve been lying this whole time. Pretty much figured it out from the start. However, we had an obligation to investigate what you said before taking action.”
“Brent, man. You saw how beat to hell I was when I arrived at Sanctuary. It’s because I caught him raping that woman.”
“I would never rape a woman. I would never hurt any woman.” Galen spit the words at Terrance. “And I beat your ass because that’s exactly what you were attempting to do. Had you accomplished the act, you wouldn’t be standing here today. Do you think an ancient couldn’t finish the job of killing a young pup like you? And how was it that you were beaten so badly you couldn’t change to heal, yet you could make the two-day trip to Sanctuary? You are the biggest idiot in the world.”
“No! I was too weak to shift.” Terrance pounded his palm against his forehead several times. “No!”
“Let her go,” Galen said again.
Terrance laughed. The sound sent chills down Myka’s spine. “Why? So you can kill me? I don’t think so.”
“I will kill you whether you let her go or not. Your life is at its end, and you have no one to blame but yourself. You put your hands on my mate,” Galen said menacingly.
She gasped when long claws slightly curled from his fingertips, fangs grew from his mouth, and his eyes glowed bright. Her brain could barely process that what she was seeing was real. Then his words whispered through her brain. She was Galen’s mate? What the hell did that mean?
“No,” Brent said quietly. “You still haven’t hurt anyone. If you let her go, you can come back to Sanctuary with us. You can be reformed. It’s your only option other than death.”
“I’m not going back to that ridiculous place!” Terrance yelled in fury. “You are not my master. I don’t serve you. I don’t live by your rules. I’m free. I’m a predator. I can do whatever I like when I like.”
“Not if it includes hurting people,” the black-haired man said. “I used to be a rogue, Terrance. I’ve seen horrible things. It isn’t right. There is so much more out there than violence. I’ve reformed. You can too. We need you. Our race is dying out.”
“No! Now get away from me, or I’ll kill her!”
When Terrance adjusted his hold on her, Myka’s instincts took over. She stomped down on his foot, and when he yelped, she spun and drove the fire poker into his thigh. But when she turned to run, his hand shot out, and fingers curled into her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes when she slammed backward onto the hard ground with such force the wind was knocked from her lungs.
Her vision blurred, and she could hear Galen’s scream of fury. When she struggled to sit up, teeth clamped hard over her shoulder. She cried out as the razor-sharp points pierced her skin and muscle. The burn of the bite seared through her, and she felt nauseous. But as quickly as the pain had started, she was freed, and the sounds of Terrance’s screams grew fainter and fainter as he was dragged away.
“Myka? Angel? Are you okay?”
Galen’s voice penetrated her foggy mind, and she looked up into his beautiful face. Tears freely ran down his cheeks, and she was sure she’d never seen anything more beautiful than this glorious man weeping. But then it hit her. What could possibly make Galen cry?
“Am I dying?” She must have blacked out for a moment because she had no recollection of Galen picking her up and cradling her against his big chest while he sat on the ground.
“You are not dying.”
He was warm and smelled good. And damned if he wasn’t completely naked now. How had that happened? She squinted to look at him closer. He was still dirty and had smears of blood on him, but she didn’t see any bruises or wounds. Had she been so distraught that she’d imagined his injuries? Imagined his torn clothing? She wanted to close her eyes and snuggle against him and forget about everything that had just happened. Forget about the nightmare she had just lived.
Nightmare. Yes. This had to be, but suddenly she remembered Galen’s fangs and claws. Had she imagined that too? No. A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t imagined any of it.
“You turned into a monster,” she whispered.
She struggled to get away from him, but he held her tightly as his body slightly shook.
“I’m sorry. I never meant for you to find out like this. I wanted to ease you into the idea.”
“Ease me into the idea! There is no easing anyone into the idea that werewolves exist. I can’t cope with this. I can’t do this.”
“You don’t have a choice in the matter now,” he whispered.
“What the hell does that mean?” She looked up at him again.
“You were bitten.”
“Yes. I was, and it hurt—still hurts like . . . Wait. Are you trying to tell me that I’m going to turn into a werewolf now?” She let out a hysterical shriek to keep from screaming because she knew if she started screaming, she may never stop.
He was silent, and the cold hand of dread tightened around her heart.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” she pleaded.
“I can’t. It should have been me that changed you.”
She pushed away from him, her shoulder screaming in agony at the movement. “No one should have changed me! I don’t want to be changed.”