Sinclair

The rogues weren't as smart as they thought. Their only chance would have been a simultaneous attack. Instead, they lunged at me two at a time, allowing each other to rest and recover between attacks. Initially—the first five seconds—this worked. A red wolf crashed into my side while a large gray beta slammed into my right. The other two charged, but as soon as I understood their strategy, I adapted.

The next wolf to lunge met my jaws. I seized its neck, violently ripping into it with my fangs. As soon as it fell, I turned on the others, slashing with my front and hind legs while tearing the next attacker limb from limb. I tasted their blood, and my worry for Ella and the baby intensified with each passing moment.

These four would have been outmatched on a good day, but the Prince was an idiot to send them on the solstice, and a fool to have them attack my mate simultaneously. Normal wolves do extraordinary things to protect their families—and I am no ordinary wolf.

Within minutes, their bodies lay scattered, and I felt no remorse. These were likely the same wolves responsible for the canal attack. While I might forgive an attack on myself, I will never forgive an attack on my pack or the woman I believe to be my mate.

Even if I were in a forgiving mood, I couldn't allow word to reach the Prince. The wolves who attacked Ella would know she hadn't shifted, and had likely already informed their accomplices. They'd realize Ella isn't truly a she-wolf, and that secret would die with them.

I sprinted through the forest toward Ella and the remaining rogues. Finding Ella's abandoned coat, I was impressed by her attempt to lay a false trail. Discovering she’d gone into the stream, I felt both proud and terrified. I heard snarling in the distance—she was still alive. But how long had she been out of the water? What had they done to her?

Finally, I reached the boulders where Ella had taken refuge. The rogues were so busy clawing at the rocks that they didn't notice my arrival. I expected relief at finding her alive—and I felt it—but nothing prepared me for the primal fury at seeing these wolves attack my human. Her cries fueled my rage, prompting a roar that sent the bastards scattering.

My vision blurred red, and I don't remember killing the rogues. One moment, only the roar of blood in my ears and its taste on my fangs; the next, I opened my eyes to utter carnage. I'd never inflicted so much damage; I'd literally torn them to shreds. Only later did I consider that Ella had witnessed it all.

She was still whimpering and crying, her teeth chattering. Cursing myself, I shifted back into human form and used snow to wash the blood from my face and limbs. Trying to shake off the violence, I knelt before the tiny cave where Ella had sought refuge. "Ella?"

A small whine answered, and I steadied my breath. "It's alright, little one," I promised. "They're gone. They can't hurt you."

I listened for movement, remembering her shock after the first attack. My Goddess, I thought bitterly. Only a month together, and already multiple attacks. What kind of protector am I?

"Can you come out, Ella?" I asked gently, wishing I could join her. I smelled her blood, though not as strongly as the rogues'. That wasn't saying much; all their blood was gone, but hers didn't indicate serious bleeding.

Yet she didn't move, and fresh panic seized me—she could have broken bones or frostbite, and I wouldn't smell it. "Are you hurt? How long have you been out of the water?"

Still nothing. I was increasingly afraid I'd have to break through the rocks. I began to purr, hoping to break through her shock. "You did so well evading them and finding a hiding place, sweetheart," I praised. "You gave me time to reach you, but now you have to help me and come out so I can take care of you."

Bending down, I peered into the crevice, hoping she might take my hand. However, when I finally saw her, I knew she was in no state to help. Her beautiful eyes were clenched shut, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clamped her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth. I doubted she could hear me, and I felt she wouldn't see me even if she opened her eyes.

Her arms were covered in defensive wounds, where she'd shielded herself. Reaching in would only frighten her further. I purred louder, and Ella's body jolted, but she quickly doubled down, as if trying to block out sensations—as if she didn't trust them. I never knew my heart could break from someone refusing my comfort, but not being able to reach Ella, when she needed me most, hurt more than I'd imagined.

"Okay, baby," I decided, wishing for another way. "I wish I could let you stay until you're ready, but it's too cold." I sighed. "I'm going to have to break through the rocks."

I knew she couldn't hear me, but I continued talking, hoping she might regain herself and understand.

She didn't.

Instead, I placed my hands on either side of the break in the boulders and summoned all my strength to force them apart. It wasn't immediate, but I thought of Ella and our baby trapped forever, channeling all my power into destroying her makeshift fortress. A thunderous crack filled the air as they split, and I snatched Ella out before any debris fell on her.

The moment my hand touched Ella, her eyes snapped open, but there was no recognition in her brilliant irises. Instead, sharp, acrid fear poured out, and she thrashed, trying to break free. I wrapped my arms around her, but she fought like a wildcat, kicking, hitting, scratching, and biting. It was amazing how difficult it was to hold her; if it weren't so horrible, I would have been proud of her fight.

"Shhh, Ella, it's alright. You're safe. You're safe now." However, her sightless eyes and desperate cries suggested this wasn't the first time she'd fought this way. Holding back tears, I finally dug my fingers into a pressure point at the base of her throat, inducing unconsciousness.

Little by little, Ella faded into a forced sleep, her body going limp. When it was over, I slumped to the ground, gathering her in my lap and pressing my hand to her belly. Our babe was whole and unharmed, but severely distressed. I tried to send waves of comfort through our bond, purring again, but I think he felt my guilt and misery. He settled slightly, but pulses of anxiety, and flashes of Ella's fear and anguish, continued through our bond.

I didn't stay long, too worried about hypothermia to yield to my body's need for rest. But for that moment, I wondered how it had come to this: Naked, slumped on the ground surrounded by dead bodies, cradling the mother of my child and weeping apologies into her neck.

I had to get her home. I had to make sure she was alright. But as soon as Ella and the baby were okay, I was going to find and kill the person responsible.