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"One photo is enough," he said.
Pushing up a little, I shook my head and shouted at the three of them. "No, it damn well isn’t enough!”
I took one sharp breath then slammed my face against the van's floor.
Hands reached for me, tried to restrain me. I bit one that smelled like bear, tried to bite another, then slammed my face again. My nose came away bloodied.
"Wehafto really hook Henric,shinkthe barb in deep, rile up hisbloodlusht!" I argued around my rapidly swelling lip. "It’ll bring him running, butmeshup his ability toshinkstraight.”
I slammed my face a third, fourth, and fifth time, blood from my nose threatening to choke me as it ran down my throat.
"Enough!" Mallory grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to him. Before I could protest, he shoved the phone he'd used to take the pictures into my hand so I could see all the damage I had already inflicted upon my flesh.
“Haflookedworsh," I grunted, a slightly acidic pain still warping my words as my shifter blood began to heal me.
Three hands landed on me—Mallory's on my shoulder, Taron's on a knee, and Doone's gingerly against the curve of what was quite possibly my broken jaw.
The alpha energy of the three powerful shifters flowed into me. I batted at their hands.
"Don't make me cry, you jerks!"
"And don't you be a tough little nut when you don't have to," Mallory admonished as they all continued to push their healing energy into me.
When it was done, Taron exited the van and Mallory moved up to the driver's seat. Doone pulled me onto his lap and began to clean the blood from my face.
I relaxed against him, a different kind of energy spiking through me. It wasn't sexual. It was bigger and better than that. I blinked a few times, the reflex flinging my tears into the air to land on my face. A strangled laugh erupted past my lips. Embarrassment made me hide my face against Doone's massive chest.
How the hell had we found each other?
The question kept playing through my mind as I drifted off to sleep. When I woke countless miles later, it was with a soft nudging of my arm and a push of Doone's alpha wolf energy. Bleary eyed and fuzzy brained as I came to, my hand shot up in a fist as I saw Kalchik.
His big mitt completely enclosed mine and he laughed with the heavy accent Kalchik had never shaken despite decades living in the U.S.
"Have you forgotten who I am, my little wolf?"
From out of my view, Mallory chuckled and I caught Taron's bearish scent as he opened the front passenger door.
"When this is all over," I huffed a little breathlessly at Doone still wearing his Kalchik skin. "I'm going to scare the shit out of you when you least expect it."
Mallory countered my huff with a gloomy tone. "If you're both lucky enough to get out of this alive. Now get moving and stay sharp!”
CHAPTER22
DOONE
Despite Mallory’scommand that we stay sharp, my senses refused to focus as I approached one of the guard outposts that Mosa walked us toward. She was in her wolf form, no trace of her scent as a panther shifter detectible to my nose. I had a slip leash around her neck and she was growling about it.
The growl was half performative, half genuine. She had balked at wearing the leash despite the easy release. The rest of us agreed the bit of theater was necessary because I needed the guards to think Kalchik was punishing one of his pack by forcing them to stay in their animal totem.
Heck, I didn't want Mosa with me at all. My mate should be…
My mate?
Confusion somersaulted through my dull brain. Had I just called Mosa my mate?
Yeah. In my head of course, but that was pretty damn presumptuous of me. Was that really what I wanted?
Was it even close to what she wanted?
