Mated to the Warg, (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

Something to Live For

Rowan was out of the water in a blink and crushed against Thrax's chest. "I'll kill that cockless little whoreson!" he growled.

Anchored to him, her sobs turned ragged. She couldn't speak for all the trembling. Her cheek was pressed tight to solid muscle, his heat chasing the cold away.

Like Thresh, he was in that half state between man and beast. Berserker wolf, fangs long. A state in which he could form guttural words, his voice dark and predatory. A wolf standing on two human legs, rippling with muscle.

Her heart flapped against her ribs, his embrace almost tight enough to crack her spine. "I didn't think you'd come," she whispered, sniffling.

He planted a hard kiss on her temple and stroked the back of her head with his black claws. "You tugged on the mate bond." He lifted her face up so he could look into her eyes. "Did you know that?"

She shook her head and nuzzled her cheek back into his fur. She hadn't known it was possible to tug on the bond. Earlier, she'd felt him, too. When Thresh had first found them, his howl rending the storm, she'd felt Thrax on the other end of the bond.

"I knew something was wrong. And I knew you wouldn't just leave the way you did. You made me a promise, remember?"

She hugged him tight, thankful for the mate bond. Thankful he'd believed in her despite everything. No one had ever had that kind of faith in her. No one except for Meera. She pulled away to look up into his preternatural eyes, glowing like flames. "We have to save Meera and Thresh."

He nodded, his brows colliding as she lifted Merritt's nixrath chain off her neck. She held it out to him. After a heartbeat, he lowered his head so that she could slip it onto his shoulders. She supposed a lifetime of being wary of nixrath was hard to overcome. Now they both had protection. The gods knew, they needed all they could get down here.

She glanced up at the hole through which she'd fallen. The rush of water was abating, which meant the storm was likely passing on. "Did you fall through, too?"

"In a fashion," he said, shrugging. Bits of webbing was stuck to his hair and shoulders. He glanced at the tunnel as though listening for clicking. "We should get out of here."

She looked up through the gullet again. "Where are the others?"

"The humans are with Barthac and Striga, heading back to Carthyrk. I sent Torgon on to fetch the rest of the pack."

She was staring at the tunnel now, too, dreading where that darkness would lead. "Should we...wait for help?" she asked in a whisper.

He shook his head gravely. "I am the help, min skani." He threaded their fingers and brushed her knuckles against his whiskery cheek. "We don't have time to wait. Torgon will make sure the pack is armored in nixrath before they come, but that might not be for hours yet."

She pressed herself close, drawing on his warmth. "They didn't leave Merritt's valet behind, did they? The unconscious lad."

"What's a valet?"

"Never mind." The air seemed to grow colder as she followed him out of the pit trap chamber and into the tunnel with the drag marks. She stepped over the snaking white arteries, her ankle throbbing.

He brought her hand back to his cheek, hie eyes hunting the dark. "You're limping."

"It's nothing." It would heal soon enough, she had the bond to thank for that, too.

In the meantime, she wanted to distract herself from the pain and the darkness—from the danger lurking ahead. So she swept her gaze over his wolf mane and the thick cords of muscle moving along his back as he stalked slightly ahead. Even as a half-wolf, he was beautiful. And he was all hers!