Chapter 25 – Bodhi
BODHI
The SUV tears through the mountain roads like a black bullet, engine screaming as I push it far beyond safe limits, hoping I’m right about which direction to go, relying on the bond between us to guide me.
Every curve I push through is a prayer; every straightaway, a chance to gain precious seconds. Pavel’s phone sits in the passenger seat, the cracked screen still displaying Emma’s terrified face.
I need to find her.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that the leather creaks under the pressure. Blood from the quarry has dried on my knuckles, my shirt, and my face. I don’t care. I only care that I’m not there.
The phone rings.
“Van’s got something,” Beau says without preamble.
“He traced the sender’s number through the carrier.
Cell towers put it somewhere in the North Ridge area.
Traffic cams picked up Ashworth’s vehicle heading in that direction.
Van pulled satellite imagery on remote properties and found some likely places that Kozlov might stash her near their last known location. ”
Hope flares in my chest. “Where?”
“There’s a cabin about ten miles from your current position. Van confirmed there’s a black sedan parked outside. Not your usual hunting trip vehicle.”
He’s done it.
“That’s it. That’s where she is.” I know it. I can feel it in my bones. “Thank you, Van.”
He doesn’t reply, but I know he’s listening.
“Coordinates are already on your phone.” Beau’s using his best big brother tone, but we’re way beyond that. After so long in fur and finding my fated mate, it’s a miracle I have any control left at all.
“We’re only twenty minutes behind you.” Beau tries again.
Twenty minutes might as well be a lifetime. God only knows what they’re doing to her right now.
“No.” The word comes out as a growl. “She doesn’t have twenty minutes.”
I end the call and check the GPS coordinates Van sent me. At this speed, it’ll be maybe fifteen minutes as long as I don’t wrap the SUV around a tree first.
The road climbs steadily higher into the mountains, asphalt giving way to gravel, then to dirt that sends up clouds of dust in my wake. Civilization falls away completely. There aren’t even any power lines or cell towers, just endless wilderness that swallows sound and makes hiding easy.
My phone rings again. Chase.
“Van’s got eyes on the area,” he says. “And there’s a vehicle positioned on the access road. They’ve got someone watching the way in.”
I slam my fist against the steering wheel.
Chase doesn’t need to spell it out. We both know what happens to Emma if Kozlov gets a warning that I’m on my way.
“Then I don’t go by road.” I’m already slowing the SUV, scanning the forest on either side for the turn. “How far is the cabin from the access road?”
I spot it and continue past before rolling to a stop around the next bend.
“Maybe two miles through rough terrain. It’ll slow you down.”
“Not me.”
Chase is a wolf. He’s a bit more delicate than I am. A bear will barrel through any kind of thick undergrowth without issue.
“Bodhi, once you shift out there, with your mate in danger, with that much rage...” Chase pauses. “You might not be able to control what happens next.”
“I won’t hurt her.”
There’s a pause. He knows I won’t. Not intentionally, anyway. But high on adrenaline, out of control, and faced with men who’ve touched his mate? It’s not injuring Emma that Chase is worried about.
It’s what I’ll do to everyone else. And whether I’ll be able to come back from it.
I think about Emma, and I know there’s no alternative. I have to get to her now.
“Bodhi…”
I end the call and step out into the mountain air. It’s colder here, thin with altitude, and sharp with the scent of pine. But underneath it all, carrying on the wind, I catch something else. Something that makes the beast inside me surge toward the surface with desperate hunger.
Emma.
Faint, nearly lost among the forest scents, but it’s her. My mate is close. And she’s petrified.
The scar pulses at the back of my shoulder. I’m close. I strip off my clothes and leave them in the SUV. The mountain air raises goosebumps on my skin, but I barely feel the cold. The shift is already pushing forward, demanding release, demanding the hunt.
When I let it come, it hits like lightning. Bones crack and realign, muscles tearing and reforming in brutal waves. My jaw extends, teeth sharpening, claws punching free as fur erupts across my skin.
When it’s over, I’m no longer a man. I’m eight hundred pounds of apex predator with one goal: get to my mate.
I rear up on my hind legs, testing the air with flared nostrils.
Emma’s scent is stronger now in this form, and I don’t need a map or coordinates to follow it.
My ears swivel, picking up sounds no human could hear.
The distant hum of a car engine. Voices.
And underneath it all, threaded through her scent, I feel her fear, but beneath that, her defiant certainty that I’m coming for her.
I am. Nothing will stop me.
And so faint I almost miss it, the sound of a woman pleading for someone to leave her alone.
Emma.
I drop to all fours and charge into the trees.
Dusk turns into night and blankets the dark forest in shades of grey. Trees blur past as I tear through the underbrush, massive paws finding purchase on moss-covered rocks and fallen logs. Branches that would stop a human snap like twigs under my weight.
The scent trail grows stronger with each stride. Emma’s terror is sharp as a blade against my soul.
Hold on. I push the thought toward her, not knowing if she can hear me. I’m coming.
The distance falls away beneath my paws, and the forest begins to thin. Through the trees, I catch glimpses of artificial light. The cabin. I slow my charge and drop into a stalking crouch as I approach the edge of the clearing.
There. A log structure maybe fifty feet away, windows glowing warm yellow in the darkness. The black sedan sits in the dirt driveway, along with another vehicle I don’t recognize.
Kozlov’s scent. Then Ashworth’s. This is the place.
Enhanced hearing picks up voices from inside. Male voices. And then, cutting through the night air like a knife, a woman’s cry.
Something inside me snaps.
Every rational thought disappears in a flood of primal rage. The beast bellows, the sound echoing through the forest like thunder. I’m already moving before the echo fades, all thoughts of forming a plan forgotten, as I charge across the clearing with single-minded fury.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the human part of me knows this is going to be bloody. Knows that once I’m inside that cabin, and see what they’ve done to my mate, there won’t be any holding back.
The bear doesn’t care about anyone else. About right and wrong. His only concern is her.