Forbidden Heat - Forbidden Series #2

Chapter One

THIS WAS IT. She was about to lose the fight to stay conscious.

Payton Llewelyn knew she was wounded. Her hip burned, her head throbbed, her ears rang, and all she wanted to do was sleep for the next five days.

What happened?

Even thinking hurt.

The last thing she remembered was leaving the restaurant after having dinner and drinks with friends. Concentrating hard, she willed her brain to recall what had followed. She'd been on the phone as she walked to her car when—

Shit.

Out of nowhere, three human men had emerged from the darkness and tried to grab her. Just behind them, a fourth man had appeared, but he'd left her in a state of shock and confusion. She'd been stunned because rather than going after her, he had attacked the first three men. Confusion had set in because her nose told her he wasn't of the Homo sapiens variety.

She'd fought the man who'd grabbed her while her rescuer wrestled the other two. Her bulky winter coat had hindered her movements, but she'd still thought she might win the struggle with her captor until she heard a loud noise and then felt a sudden piercing sting in her side. She had been unprepared for the sharp pain, and it had knocked her off balance, causing her to crack her skull on the pavement. That was why she had lost consciousness in the middle of the parking lot.

So, now, she lay motionless, using all her strength to will her eyes open and her body to move. Fainting again wasn't an option. She needed to get out of there and find help. She didn't know what had happened to the humans, and she knew the fourth man was a shifter, but he hadn't smelled like—

Before she could finish her thought and attempt to force herself up, someone lifted her from the ground and carried her. It was the shifter.

Have I been saved? Or am I in more danger?

She tried to get a better read on who held her, but she was in a fireman's hold, moving fast. All the bouncing made the pain in her side and head sharper, and she had to concentrate on not passing out.

They stopped, and she heard a vehicle door open, stuff being moved around, and then something hit the ground. She was laid down on the seat. The upholstery carried the aroma of the male shifter, and her alertness increased. At that moment, she knew why his scent was off.

He wasn't a cat-shifter like her.

He was a wolf-shifter.

Cat-shifters and wolf-shifters weren't friends—not in Minnesota, not anymore. The Minnesota Pride hadn't been on good terms with the Minnesota Pack for almost ten years.

Shit.

She should really try to leave. If only she wasn't hurt and so damn tired...

She heard one door close before the opposite side opened, and then she was pulled until her head was placed in the wolf-shifter's lap. Her left hip ached, and she rolled over to ease some of the pain, curling into the stranger.

He gently stroked his hand over her hair, moving it out of her face as he spoke, but the buzzing in her ears prevented her from making out the words.

Is he my rescuer or my captor?

Despite the unknown situation, his actions soothed her. Her adrenaline crashed, and as her fatigue settled over her like a heavy blanket, she wasn't sure if she even cared anymore.

She should have been wary, but she was so tired. Instead, she felt surprisingly safe and protected, not afraid at all. Maybe tomorrow she'd feel differently, but she could worry about that tomorrow.