Chapter 10
Ten
RYKER
“Find her!” I bark into the phone before ending the call with Alaric, my heart pounding hard with panic. My fingers tremble as I toss the phone onto the couch. “Fuck!”
I knew it was a mistake to let her out of our sight before she was properly marked and claimed.
I should have insisted on staying with her.
Now she’s somewhere out there. My omega is alone and vulnerable on an island crawling with unmated wealthy alphas who would tear each other apart for a chance to knot an omega.
The thought of another alpha’s hands on her makes my blood boil, makes my skin itch with the need to shift, to hunt, to protect what’s mine.
I strip off my clothes with desperate speed. Burning sensation spreads across my skin as I begin to shift into my wolf form. The familiar pain of bones cracking and reforming, muscles stretching and compressing, is agonizing.
The transformation takes mere seconds, but each one feels like an eternity when Anya is missing.
As my body completes the change, I stand on four powerful legs, my black fur bristling with agitation.
I shake myself once, adjusting to the sensation of being in my wolf form.
Everything is more intense this way. The smells sharper, sounds clearer, instincts stronger.
And right now, every instinct in my body is screaming at me to find my omega.
I burst through the door and into the night, my paws silent on the soft earth as I race toward the restaurant where Alaric lost her.
The cool night air rushes through my fur as I run fast. I stick to the shadows, avoiding the main paths where human guests might spot me.
The last thing I need is panic spreading across the island about a wolf sighting.
The restaurant comes into view, its warm lights spilling out onto the terrace where humans sit oblivious to the drama unfolding around them. I circle the building, nose to the ground, searching for Anya’s distinctive grape scent.
I suddenly scent her at the entrance.
Her sweet aroma hits me hard, making my cock stir even in wolf form. She passed this way not long ago, maybe twenty minutes ago at most.
I follow her scent trail, noting the fear that taints it.
She was scared, running.
My chest aches at the thought. Did she think we would hurt her? Is she scared of commitment? Either way, I need to find and protect her. She will never ever leave the house again until she’s marked. An alpha’s mark signals to other packs that she’s taken, and they will know not to touch her.
The trail leads away from the restaurant, down toward the marina.
Her scent grows stronger as I follow it, telling me I’m catching up. The grape smell mingles with salt air and the acrid odor of fear. She was panicking as she fled, her body releasing stress hormones that make her scent sharper, more pungent.
As I near the marina, human odors are everywhere, clouding the air. I lose her scent momentarily, circling in frustration near the edge of the dock. Then I catch it again—fainter this time, altered somehow.
Water. She went into the water.
Alarm shoots through me, my heart rate spiking. Did she fall? Jump? My eyes scan the dark surface of the ocean, looking for any sign of her. Nothing. But her scent continues beyond the marina, meaning she must have gotten out.
I pad along the wooden dock, following the now-wet trail of her scent.
At the edge of the beach, I find her small, delicate footprints in the sand, heading toward the forest. She’s barefoot.
Why is she barefoot? The thought of her tender skin being torn by rocks and thorns makes me growl low in my throat.
The footprints are uneven, staggered. She was exhausted, possibly injured. The imprints show she was dripping water with each step. Fear grips me anew. The night air has grown colder, and if she’s wet, she could get hypothermia.
I push my pace faster, following her trail into the dense forest that covers much of the island’s interior.
The darkness here is nearly complete, but my wolf eyes see everything—each disturbed leaf, broken twig, and smear of scent she’s left behind.
She wandered in circles for a while, clearly lost, before heading deeper into the woods.
Her trail grows more erratic as I follow it, showing her increasing exhaustion. Small spots of blood appear occasionally where her bare feet caught on sharp stones or thorns. Each drop of her blood makes me growl with distress.
My omega is hurt, cold, and alone.
And then I smell the thick, unmistakable scent of another alpha. Not from my pack. He’s been here recently, following the same path I am now. Following Anya.
A red haze of rage clouds my vision. I push my limbs harder, practically flying over the forest floor, desperate to reach her before this interloper can. If he touches her, if he tries to claim what’s mine, I’ll tear his throat out without hesitation or remorse.
The scent of the other alpha suddenly veers away, heading east, while Anya’s trail continues north. He lost her trail. Good. But that means she’s still alone in the increasingly cold night.
Finally, I break through a thick patch of underbrush, and I finally see her.
She’s a small, shivering ball curled at the base of a massive oak tree.
Her red dress is soaked through and clings to her body.
Her hair hangs in wet strands around her pale face.
Her lips are blue, her skin almost gray in the faint moonlight.
She’s trembling violently, arms wrapped around her knees in a futile attempt to conserve body heat.
My heart constricts at the sight of her. So fragile. So human in her vulnerability. I approach slowly, not wanting to startle her, but a twig snaps beneath my paw.
Her head jerks up, violet eyes wide with terror as she spots me. A scream tears from her throat, high and panicked. She’s never seen me in wolf form. To her, I must look like a massive black wolf appearing from her nightmares.
I need to shift back. Immediately. I focus on my human form, forcing the transformation despite the pain it causes, shifting so quickly after the last one. Bones crack and reform, fur recedes into skin, muzzle shortens into a human face.
The transformation feels like being torn apart and reassembled, but I endure it silently.
Within seconds, I stand before her on two legs, naked and human again. Her jaw drops, her eyes widening impossibly further as she witnesses the impossible—a beast becoming a man before her very eyes.
“Anya,” I say softly, holding my hands out in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”
“You... you were... a wolf,” she stammers through chattering teeth. “An actual fucking wolf.”
“Yes,” I say simply, moving closer to her trembling form. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. We are wolves. And you are our omega.”
Tears spill down her cheeks, mingling with the seawater still drying on her skin. “I…I thought you were crazy. Oh m-my God.”
“I know,” I murmur, kneeling beside her. “Now you know the truth. But right now, we need to get you warm. You’re freezing to death out here.”
She nods weakly, too cold to argue or resist. I slip my arms beneath her, one behind her back, the other under her knees, and lift her easily against my chest. She weighs almost nothing, this precious omega who’s turned my ordered world upside down in just two days.
I start running, cradling her against my bare chest, trying to share some of my body heat with her. Alphas run hotter than other wolves, but even my warmth isn’t enough to stop her violent shivering. Her teeth chatter so hard I fear they might crack, and her skin feels like ice against mine.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispers against my neck. “I didn’t m-mean for you to come after me.”
“Shh,” I soothe, holding her tighter as I navigate through the trees. “We’ll talk later. Right now, we just need to get you warm.”
I run without tiring, my alpha strength making her weight insignificant.
I’m acutely aware of every place her body touches mine…
her soft breasts pressed against my chest, her thighs cradled in the crook of my arm, her head tucked beneath my chin.
Even in this dire situation, my cock stirs with interest, hardening slightly despite my best efforts to focus on her safety.
The forest thins as we approach the house, lights glowing in the windows. I burst through the front door, startling Rex, who jumps to his feet from where he’d been pacing.
“Get the fire going!” I bark at him. “And blast the heater. She’s freezing.”
Rex springs into action, moving to the thermostat while shouting for the others. Marcus appears from the hallway, a thick blanket already in his arms. His eyes widen at the sight of Anya’s pale, trembling form.
“Is she…?”
“She’ll be fine,” I bark, comforting myself more than the others. “But we need to get her warm now.”
I carry her to the couch, setting her down as gently as possible. Her body is rigid with cold, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as she tries to sit up.
“We need to get these wet clothes off,” I tell her, my hands already moving to the zipper at the back of her dress. “They’re making you colder.”
She stares at me with wide, frightened eyes, but nods her consent. I ease the zipper down, revealing the pale skin of her back, already covered in goosebumps. Marcus spreads the blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace, which Rex has stoked into a roaring blaze.
The front door bursts open again, and Alaric and Lorenzo rush in, both as naked as I am, clearly having shifted to help with the search.
“You found her,” Alaric says, relief evident in his voice as he moves closer, eyes raking over Anya’s hunched form.
“She was in the forest,” I confirm, carefully peeling the wet dress from her shoulders. “Soaking wet and freezing.”
“I followed her trail to the marina,” Lorenzo reports. “She must have fallen in the water, and we lost her scent. But Ryker, man, you’re a badass. The best search and rescue.”
I nod grimly. I would die for her.
Anya shivers harder as the dress falls to her waist, exposing her bra, which is equally soaked through. The white fabric has gone transparent, revealing pink nipples beneath, but this is no time for lust. Her life is at stake.
“Arms up,” I instruct gently, and she complies, allowing me to pull the dress over her head. She sits before us in nothing but her bra and underwear now, her skin pale and mottled with cold, her lips still tinged with blue.
“The bra too,” I say softly. “It’s soaked through.”
She hesitates, arms crossing protectively over her chest.
“Your life is more important than modesty right now,” says Rex sternly.
She flushes but reaches behind her to unhook the bra with trembling fingers. When she struggles with the clasp, I gently move her hands aside and do it for her, careful to keep my touch clinical despite the way my cock throbs at the proximity to her bare skin.
The bra falls away, revealing large, perfect breasts with dusky nipples hardened from the cold. I avert my eyes from the sight, focusing instead on her panties, which are equally soaked.
“These need to come off, too,” I tell her, hooking my fingers in the waistband. “I promise we’re just trying to get you warm.”
She nods, lifting her hips slightly to help as I slide the wet fabric down her legs. Now she’s completely naked, vulnerable, and shivering, her hand immediately covering her pussy from our sight.
“Skin to skin is the fastest way to warm her up,” Marcus says, already moving toward the blanket he’s laid out. “I’ll take her back.”
“I’ve got her front,” I reply.
I scoop her up again and carry her to the blanket, settling down onto the floor between us, her back to Marcus’s chest, her front pressed against mine.
The feel of her naked body against mine sends a jolt of desire through me so strong it makes my head spin, but I force myself to focus on her safety.
Marcus presses against her from behind, his large frame enveloping her smaller one, sandwiching her between our superheated alpha bodies. Alaric throws a heated blanket over the three of us, tucking it carefully around Anya’s shoulders.
“Better?” I ask her, my mouth close to her ear.
She nods weakly, her eyelids heavy as exhaustion begins to overtake the adrenaline that’s kept her going. I pull her closer, tucking her head beneath my chin, letting my natural body heat seep into her frozen limbs.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, my cock responds to her nearness, hardening against her stomach. I try to shift away, to give her space, but she makes a small sound of protest and presses closer, seeking warmth.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, stroking her damp hair. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”
As her shivers gradually subside, replaced by the occasional tremor, I become increasingly aware of every inch of her soft skin pressed against mine. Her breasts flatten against my chest, her nipples hard little points that send jolts of pleasure through me with every slight movement.
Her pussy is resting directly beneath my now fully erect cock.
My balls tighten painfully as I imagine her pussy gripping my cock as I thrust into her virgin passage, stretching her, claiming her, making her mine in the most primal way possible. The thought makes my cock pulse, a drop of precum leaking from the tip to smear against her stomach.
I grit my teeth, fighting for control. Now is not the time. She’s barely conscious, still recovering from the cold, still processing the reality of what we are. Knotting her now would be wrong, a betrayal of the trust we’re trying to build.
But God, it’s hard to remember that with her scent filling my nostrils, her soft body molded to mine, her every breath a sweet torture against my heated skin.