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A vision of a she-wolf entered his head, along with her suggestion that it would be more humiliating to Nathan if they didn’t kill him.
You’re listening to the witch?he asked incredulously.
Nathan bucked Aiden’s jaws but couldn’t get loose.
Goldiecouldcontrol his wolf. How was it possible? He couldn’t even control his wolf.
The beast sent a vision of two wolves curled up together in a den and the scent of musk. Aiden loved her. He wanted her, but the wolf did too?
His mother had told him the story of the connection between witches and shifters, a connection that she and his father shared. When witches made shifters, they used their magic to do it, ripping it out of themselves to make their protectors. She said when a witch loved the right shifter, it was the only way to get it back.
He’d never thought of his wolf as magic. His magic was magic, and his wolf was a slobbering beast that no one could control.
What if it wasn’t that no one could control it? What if what could control his wolf lived in a witch?
He loved her for herself, her fiery spirit, her brutal honesty, and her sardonic sense of humor in the face of disaster. He loved her for the deeper parts of her he had a feeling no one had seen but him: her bone-deep loyalty, her insecurity about her magic, and her love of everything beautiful from nail polish to insanely expensive furniture.
He would have loved her even if nothing happened to his wolf, but the fact that she could control the beast? He was never leaving her side.
Nathan went limp below him. Everything in him—man and beast—triumphed. Were they going to get out of here with just a few scrapes?
“Father, no!” Buck shouted from inside the horse trailer.
In seconds, Buck’s wolf hit the side of the trailer. He couldn’t get out?
What had she done to him?
He was about to congratulate her on her forethought when the entire trailer tipped.
He watched as if in slow motion as it toppled right on top of Goldie. She’d backed against the side to stay out of his way.
She cried out, ran forward, and wasn’t quite in time. The very tip of the trailer hit her in the back and knocked her forward. She pitched across the dirt and landed hard.
She didn’t get up.
The trailer splintered, and Buck burst free.
He knew the second Goldie lost consciousness because the wolf lost its hold on sanity. Aiden’s vision went hazy.
Immediately, the beast bit down as hard as it could, and his uncle’s blood flooded Aiden’s mouth. He recoiled but could not stop the wolf as it adjusted to get a better grip.
In that split second, Buck attacked, and pain lit across his shoulder as the boy bit down hard.
Aiden’s senses faded as the wolf buried him in rage, pain, and fear. He could no longer tell how the fight was going.
It was two against one, but his wolf’s mate was in danger. Aiden truly didn’t know who was going to come out on top. All he knew was that regardless of who walked away—if any of them did—there would be no winners today.
Fresh pain penetrated the haze, a slash across his belly that felt, well, dire.
Most dire wolves did not live past sixty. They died in fights or by the poison seeping through their teeth. With his faulty wolf, Aiden certainly hadn’t expected to make it that long. He was kind of surprised he had made it to adulthood at all. His wolfcould not play the dominance games that came so easily to the rest of the pack.
Its instinct was to yield to stronger wolves, but it hated that instinct. Its solution was to snap their bond or twist it beyond all recognition so that when a stronger wolf attacked, it was deaf to any attempt to control it. It fought until it bled out rather than yield to anyone.
Anyone but her.
His only regret as he braced for death was that he couldn’t tell her that.
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