Page 12 of Shielded By My Mate

He growls, pacing agitatedly inside me.

“All right, I’ll try again,” I agree. “Have you found the men?”

“Not yet. We picked up their scent. They’ve been seen around town, but they’re not staying at any of the hotels there. They ate at the diner, grabbed a coffee, and went by the medical clinic, but no one has seen them since.”

“They’re looking for her,” I growl.

“Yeah.” Russo sighs. “But we won’t let them find her.”

“I found tire tracks this morning,” I admit. “I followed them, but it doesn’t look like they stopped or got too close.”

“They don’t know she’s here,” Russo says, trying to reassure me.

“Hopefully not. But there aren’t many houses out this way. It won’t take them long to narrow it down and track her here.”

“We’ll find them before they can find her,” he promises.

“We better.”

We share a grim look.

“How do you want to deal with them?” Russo asks.

“Kill them,” I snarl.

“Your mate is okay with that?”

I pause. “I hope so. They kidnapped and drugged her. Can’t imagine she’d care what happens to them. Hopefully, she’ll feel safer with them dead and gone.”

“You might want to double-check that with her.”

“I will.” I sigh, wondering how the hell I’m going to broach the subject with Mira.

“The Alphas have been briefed,” Russo adds.

“Good. At least that issue is being dealt with. Now I just need to convince my mate that I’m a shifter, that we’re meant to be together, and that she’s safe here. Oh, and find her friend and check she’s okay with me killing the men who kidnapped her.”

“Should be easy,” Russo quips.

We both fall silent when we hear Mira stirring inside.

Russo nods at me, pushing off from the porch railing. “I’m going home to my mate. I’ll check in with you later. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

He claps me on the back, and I watch him disappear down the trail that leads to his place before I turn and head inside.

Mira is waking up as I sit next to her, and I smile when she blinks her eyes open and looks at me.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, passing her a glass of water.

“Groggy,” she admits, “But better. No pain.”

“That’s good.”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says softly.

I nod, pushing to my feet. “I’ll carry you.”