CHAPTER 11

Lelandi Felt Pressure On her throat, like if a sneake circulated Her Neck, Squeezing Tightly, through a fog-filled haze. Her breathing became labored, and her vision became dim. She made an effort to smell the snake, but all she caught was the overpowering smell of rotting leaves.

A stern, irritated male voice then yelled for Larissa, who was now closer.

A deep, menacing snarl could be heard.

Ural?

When the pressure on her throat let up, she struggled to breathe and gasped for air. Nothing, including where she was, who he was, or what had happened to Larissa, could hold her attention. In a hasty retreat from danger, the snake slithered through the undergrowth. Together with it, the strong humus odor vanished. Yet, a fresh aroma began to linger. It’s her cousin.

She attempted to utter “Ural,” but her throat became trapped. He crept up on her and licked her cheek; it was warm, wet, and nice. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck but was unable to.

The male voice yelled, “Larissa!” as he drew closer. His steps caused the ground to tremble slightly and then again nearby.

She gave him a subtle correction, “Lelandi.” To her absolute annoyance, even her parents, her brother, and the other pack members frequently mispronounced their names. She took a deep breath,

She had a scratchy throat and terrible, punishing chest ache that spread throughout her entire body. Where did she go?

Ural touched her face before relocating. He must be behind her. Defending her?

Her bones, skin, and joints were numb from the cold. She was unable to stand or lift her head. But, it was starting to get lighter.

“Larissa!”

She tried to speak but the snake had already taken her voice. She uttered an inaudible sound. She took a deep breath, closed her open mouth, and fixed her gaze on the footsteps.

In front of the marauders, little boulders, twigs, and leaves slid down the hill, racing toward her and becoming closer and closer. They’d found her! The joy, however, was clouded by their plans for what to do with her going forward.

“This way!” She trembled with anticipation as she heard Darien’s deep baritone voice.

His dark eyes were almost black, his hair was twisted in the wind, and his set, gloomy face.

She then recalled. Larissa… was… already dead. Tom fired a gun. He was fine, right? Ural too! If the greyhounds catch him,

“This way!” Darien yelled once more, and shortly after, another man burst through the dense undergrowth. She was enveloped in Darien’s leather coat after he jerked it off.

Jake showed up, snatched a phone off his belt, yelled coordinates into the phone, and instructed everyone to keep looking for the shooter. “Shit.” When Jake finally managed to get a word in edgewise, he paused. Sam was wounded.

Darien ceased taking his shirt’s buttons off. “Is he…”

A blow to the arm. He’ll survive.

Silva, what about him? Lelandi’s jacket was being unbuttoned while Darien took off his shirt.

She’s shaken but okay. The shooter is dead. Jake was in Darien’s upward gaze. “Has anybody questioned him?” “He’s gone,”

Jake, I know that for a fact. But was he questioned before he passed away?

After hanging up the phone and shaking his head, Jake lifted his nose and sniffed. Do you have a reddish odor?

Can’t with all the perfume she’s wearing. Darien’s turtleneck was raised.

Her flesh was already frozen when the chilly air hit her. He mumbled an old wolf curse before tucking his body-warmed flannel shirt into her wounds, which washed with his spicy, hot scent.

Until he spoke again, her thoughts wandered. “Who did he kill?”

She fixed her gaze on his bare chest, which was gorgeous and had light hair and muscles. Who said that a man’s body couldn’t be attractive? He had an extraordinarily genuine, lickable, and kissable appearance throughout.

Darien, I’m not sure who killed him.

Oh, dear. The shooter ought to have been questioned. Darien gently warmed her by lowering her shirt, and then he closed her jacket with the same delicacy. “Who the hell are you, first of all?”

So much for being delicate.

Lelandi, and you know who the hell I am, she tried to growl between her teeth, but her voice was too husky. With the exception of gazing at his lovely chest, she could hardly keep her eyes open due to the heavy lids covering them.

What about the rest of him, though? In her visions, he appeared naked, his sculpted body eager to please her in every manner, his corded muscles rippling as he moved. Why was she dressed, too? While she was constantly exposed, ready for his ravenous touch?

He swore. “Thunder God! What the hell are you attempting to pull now that my mate is dead?

She turned away from staring at his chest. She was shaken out of her fantasy by Darien’s harsh visage. She couldn’t understand what he was saying but realized that Larissa, his wife, had passed away. With a sob, she choked.

As soon as he pulled her off the chilly ground, everything about him—his bare chest, his square-jawed face, his shadowed eyes—faded away.

Darien’s steely voice, veiled in worry, yelled to her from a million miles away, “Woman.”

She heard him, but she was unable to open her eyes or concentrate. When being carried by the large gray, her body glided and jostled across the uneven ground.

How frequently did he shoot you? Much, way too many.

“How did he appear?”