POV: Aria
Blood sprays across my face as Damon tears into the rogue's throat.
I'm frozen against the fence, watching my mate—the person who hates me most in the world—fight three massive wolves to save my life. It doesn't make sense. Nothing about today makes sense.
The rogue Alpha Damon attacked goes down hard, but the other two circle him. They're huge, covered in scars, and they smell like death and rot. Damon is strong, but he's alone and outnumbered.
"Run!" Damon's voice cuts through my panic, even in wolf form. The Alpha command in it makes my legs want to obey.
But I can't leave him.
My wolf surges inside me, furious that our mate is in danger. She doesn't care that he rejected us. Doesn't care that he's spent years making us miserable. All she knows is that he's ours and he needs us.
One of the rogues breaks away from Damon and lunges at me. I barely shift in time. My black and silver wolf emerges, and suddenly the world sharpens. I can see every movement, smell every scent, hear every heartbeat.
The rogue's claws slash toward my face. I dodge, but I'm too slow. Pain explodes across my shoulder as his claws tear through fur and skin.
Then Damon is there, slamming into the rogue so hard they both crash into a tree. The sound of breaking bones fills the night air.
But now the third rogue has Damon pinned. Jaws snap toward Damon's throat. He's going to die. My mate is going to die protecting me.
Something inside me breaks open.
Power floods through my body like lightning. My wolf grows larger, stronger. Silver light pulses from my fur, bright enough to light up the darkness.
I move without thinking. My jaws close around the rogue's neck and I tear him off Damon. The rogue yelps in shock—I'm half his size but somehow I'm stronger.
The rogue I'm holding goes limp. I drop him and he doesn't get up.
The remaining rogue takes one look at me glowing with silver light and runs. His footsteps fade into the forest.
Silence falls. Just me and Damon, both in wolf form, both breathing hard and bleeding.
Damon shifts back to human. His chest has deep claw marks that bleed heavily. "What was that? That light—Aria, what are you?"
I shift back too, suddenly aware I'm naked and covered in blood. Some of it mine, most of it from the rogues. My shoulder screams with pain where I got cut.
"I don't know," I whisper. My whole body shakes. "I've never done that before."
Damon takes a step toward me, then stops himself. The mate bond pulls tight between us, and I can feel everything he's feeling—concern, confusion, fear, and something else. Something that feels almost like awe.
"You shouldn't have stayed," he says roughly. "You should have run when I told you to."
"You shouldn't have come after me." My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to. "You made it clear you don't want me. So why did you follow me?"
He opens his mouth. Closes it. For once, Damon Steele has no cruel words ready.
"Because—" He stops. Takes a breath. "Because three rogues were about to take my mate, and I couldn't—" Another stop. "It doesn't matter. You need medical attention."
He pulls off his shirt and hands it to me. I wrap it around myself quickly, trying not to notice how his scent—pine trees and thunderstorms—makes my wolf purr with happiness.
"We have to get you back to pack territory," Damon says. He's looking at my bleeding shoulder, and his jaw is tight with anger. "You're hurt because of me."
"I'm hurt because rogues attacked me," I correct him. "Not everything is about you, Damon."
Something flickers in his eyes. It might be respect. "Can you walk?"
"I'm fine." I take a step and immediately stumble. The pain and power drain hit me all at once. My legs won't hold me up.
Damon catches me before I fall. His hands on my arms send sparks through my whole body. The mate bond sings with happiness at his touch, even though my brain knows better.
"You're not fine," he says quietly. "Let me help you."
"Why?" The question bursts out of me. "You rejected me in front of everyone. You called me worthless. So why are you here? Why do you care if I'm hurt?"
His face does something complicated. For a second, I see past the cold, cruel mask he always wears. I see someone who looks lost and scared and completely out of control.
"I don't know," he admits, and his voice cracks slightly. "I don't know why I came. I don't know why watching you walk away felt like dying. I don't know why the thought of you with those rogues made me want to tear the world apart. I just—" He stops again, breathing hard. "I just know that I can't let anything happen to you."
My heart does a painful twist. This is the first honest thing Damon has ever said to me.
"The bond is messing with your head," I say, even though part of me wants to believe he means it. "You don't actually care about me. You can't."
"Maybe." He doesn't let go of my arms. "But that doesn't change what just happened. Someone knew you'd be here, Aria. Those rogues didn't just happen to find you. They were waiting."
Ice floods through my veins. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying someone from our pack told them where you'd be. Someone set you up to be captured or killed." His eyes meet mine, and they're serious in a way I've never seen. "Someone wants you gone."
Before I can respond, pain explodes through the mate bond. Not my pain—Damon's. He gasps and stumbles, his hand going to his chest.
"What's wrong?" I grab his arm without thinking.
"The wounds." His voice is strained. "Rogue claws. They're poisoned."
Horror washes over me as I watch the claw marks on his chest turn black around the edges. Rogue poison. It can kill even an Alpha if it's not treated fast.
"We need to get you to the pack doctor," I say urgently.
"No." Damon's grip on my arm tightens. "Listen to me. You can't go back to your parents' house. Whoever set up that attack might try again. You need to hide until we figure out who—"
He cuts off with a sharp intake of breath. The black spreading from his wounds grows darker. He's running out of time.
And I realize with crushing certainty that if Damon dies, the mate bond will kill me too. Rejected or not, we're connected now. His death is mine.
"Where can I take you?" My mind races through options. "Your house? The pack hospital?"
"Too obvious." He's struggling to stay standing now. "There's a cabin. Old hunting cabin on the north border. No one uses it anymore. We can—"
His eyes roll back and his knees give out. I catch him, but he's way too heavy. We both go down hard.
"Damon!" I shake him, but he doesn't respond. The poison is working faster than it should.
The mate bond thrums with agony, carrying his pain straight into my chest. I can feel him slipping away, feel his heartbeat getting weaker.
I look around frantically. We're alone in the dark, both bleeding, with dead rogues nearby and a possible traitor back at pack lands. I have no idea where the hunting cabin is. No idea how to cure rogue poison. No idea how to save either of us.
My wolf pushes forward, and that strange power from before tingles through my hands. When I touch Damon's poisoned wounds, silver light flickers from my fingertips.
The black poison recedes just slightly.
I stare at my glowing hands in shock. What am I?
But there's no time to figure it out. Because I hear footsteps coming through the trees. Multiple footsteps. And voices I recognize.
"—should be dead by now," someone says. It's a woman's voice. Familiar.
"The rogues better have finished the job," a man responds. Also familiar. "If she makes it back alive, everything falls apart."
My blood turns to ice as the speakers come into view through the trees.
My mother Helena. And my father Marcus.
They're walking toward us with flashlights, clearly expecting to find my dead body. Their faces show no grief. No worry. Just cold calculation.
They set up the attack. My own parents tried to have me killed.
I crouch over Damon's unconscious body, my hands still glowing with silver light, and watch my parents' flashlights get closer. In seconds they'll see us. See that I'm alive. See that their plan failed.
And I have no idea what they'll do next.