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I have a waterproof undercoat. You don’t.
She released a shaky groan.So I should’ve let you die?
I would’ve come to!His admonition ricocheted in her skull like a gong.
She was so angry, she was seeing red. She risked her life to save his. You were bleeding out, you big dummy!She would’ve struck his chest, but she was too frozen to move, so she endured his grumbles and swearing while he carried her back toward the cabin. But once he peeled away her clothes and warmed her up, she would demand an apology.
Drasko heaved open the cabin door and shifted into his human form and quickly carried her to the bed. She trembled while he stripped off her clothes and wrapped her in blankets while throwing more wood in the stove. She winced, jerking back when he rubbed warmth into her feet.
“Don’t fight me, Amara,” he warned, snatching her feet again.
Warmth flooded her chest and ire infused her veins. He had no damn reason to be angry with her. None. She would’ve fought him off her and told him she could warm herself, but it took all her strength just to keep her teeth from chattering.
Drasko abruptly stopped rubbing and perked up at the sound of engines in the distance.
Luc?she asked, hopeful.
Drasko’s nostrils flared.Trackers don’t use snowmobiles. It’s the Russians.His eyes flashed yellow.Stay here,he said on a low, protector’s rumble.
She managed enough strength to grasp his arm.You’re not leaving me?
I have no choice. I have to draw them away.He threw a blanket on the floor.Get down.
Amara fell to the floor, pain lancing up her side as she gaped at her mate. And then he was out the door, slamming it behind him without so much as a kiss goodbye.
His wolf’s howl echoed across the tundra. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, nearly drowning out the sounds of the snowmobile’s engines racing past the cabin.
Were they chasing after Drasko? Oh Ancients, no!
Chapter Eight
Drasko
Drasko wasn’t exactlysure why the Russians were here, but instinct told him they were after the Amaroki wolves. Had they discovered the American Army’s secret weapon? Whatever the reason, if a wolf was what they wanted, he would give them one. Following his old tracks, he raced through the sparse forest toward the river. The foliage was thicker there, and he would draw them out as a wolf and then shift into a protector and crush their skulls.
He could make out the sound of running water up ahead. He was almost there. The snowmobile engines drew closer, and then one engine abruptly stopped and he heard someone cry out. He must’ve hit a snowbank. Good. He would come back for that Russian later, but he could still hear two more engines close behind him. He leapt out of one snowbank and into another, then slammed into a hard, white wall with a yelp, pain lancing up his side. He looked behind him in time to see a short arrow sticking out of his ass. What the fuck?
