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She’d wanted to hug him a few days ago. She’d wanted to touch him. To be reassured by him. And then tonight, she’d begged with her body language for him to just rest his hand on her leg. And he’d heard it—he’d heard her heartbeat slow each time he’d touched her. She relaxed under his touch, and he could tell she really did feel safe around him.
Somethin’ about that…
Somethin’ about that…
Somethin’ about that made his wolf go quiet and watchful. It made him feel…
Protective.
Oh, she was workin’ him good, but he didn’t even know if he gave a shit anymore.
She didn’t know it, and he wouldn’t tell her out loud, but he would’ve gutted Clint that day right there in the middle of town if she would’ve asked for vengeance. He would’ve. No questions asked.
He’d thought about it a hundred times though—her asking him and Burke to back down and wait for the right time.
She cared about not only him, but his people, and that meant something to a man like him.
She didn’t know that he’d thought about all the ways to kill Clint for what he’d done to her in that alley, but she didn’t need to. She just needed to know she was safe, and let her heart rate settle every time he touched her.
Garret reached across and gently brushed a curl out of her face.
He would handle the rest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The howl of a wolf woke Eliza.
She startled and sat up fast, but Garret was right there, knelt in front of her, his hand on her side and his glowing eyes on something behind her.
He cast a silent glance behind him, and over the glowing coals of the tired fire, she could see Burke’s eyes glowing like an animal’s in torchlight.
“Stay with her,” Garret growled.
He nodded once at Garret, and then slunk off into the shadows with an inhuman grace.
A smattering of pops sounded, and Eliza was horrified to realize it was the breaking of bones. She could see the struggle in the shadows, and her breath caught in her lungs as a wolf sauntered into the dim light that the tired fire let off.
The wolf was light gray and enormous. His lips were pulled back from his teeth, and his bright-gold eyes were trained on Garret’s back.
Cookie and Wells were nowhere to be seen.
She sat up as another howl pierced the air, and held her hand out to try and warn the wolf—Burke—from coming any closer.
“Be quiet,” Garret whispered to her. “Be still.”
When Garret looked down at her, she could barely recognize him. His face was all sharp angles, and his teeth looked too long when he pulled his lips back. His eyes were too bright, and seemed to glow in the dark.
He looked terrifying.
“Get the gun,” he snarled, and his voice didn’t even sound human.
Heart hammering against her sternum, she forced herself upward as Garret disappeared into the night.
Burke was growling, and he was so big. Gads! He was as tall as her shoulders just standing there. His eyes tracked her as she squeaked and sidled to Garret’s pack. The second she touched the leather tie that held his rifle in place, the pack exploded. With a scream, she flinched back as shrapnel peppered her face and arms.
Someone up the hill was yelling, but her ears were ringing with the gunfire that was peppering the night.
In terror, she stared at the rifle that was blasted to pieces.
