The Hunted

Twenty-Three

Red

"This has turned into a fucking shitstorm, man. I'm barely keeping my head on straight," Red confessed to Henry.

They were standing outside of the clinic as Red tried to contain his anger because seeing his Mate on that table, hearing the story of a broken eleven-year-old who had been torn apart by a werewolf...It had wrecked him.

Red had never thought that he'd be the domineering, overbearing type. Yet knowing that she'd been a child when she'd met the worst of his kind, that made Red want to hunt down the monsters that had hurt her just for the peace of mind that they could never do so again. Henry had confessed what Blake had told him that day in Denver. That one of Blake's attackers had escaped. Knowing that one of her demons was still out there in the world only heightened his desire to leave and hunt and kill.

Each time he blinked, he saw Blake's split lip and the blood that had dribbled out of her nose to dry on her chin and the laceration on her temple. Recalled the bruises that had formed around the bite marks on her shoulder from where Deacon's teeth had ripped into her skin as he'd tried to kill her.

Anger that coursed through his veins like an unrelenting river. He'd never felt it so strong before. He'd been mad and pissed off at the world, had snarled and growled and fought. But never had he been so earth-shatteringly furious.

Or so afraid.

Because the marks and the bruises and the blood...The fact that they were still there was a reminder. That Blake was human, not a wolf. She would never heal fast. She would always be susceptible to injury. Something that would be a minor inconvenience to him could end her life. He hadn't realized the fragility of the human life until he'd met her.

And now that she was here...Red was scared that maybe she wouldn't be for long.

Especially if Victor and Deacon and their sympathizers had anything to do about it. Red wasn't ready to lose Blake. Not now, not ever. Even if she left him, retreating back to the human world once their investigation was over, then so be it. At least she'd be alive.

Henry's mouth quirked into a half-hearted grin. "Welcome to being Mated. You'll go out of your mind with worry more than once. Probably a lot more with Blake thinking she's invincible."

"She doesn't think she's invincible," Red refuted and his voice broke. "I think she just doesn't care if she gets hurt. Goddess, she was cracking jokes after she almost got her head ripped off by Deacon. First thing she says to me after she nearly got crushed by that tree is 'if a tree falls in the forest, I guess it makes a fucking sound.' What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Henry?"

"She's tough."

"Too tough."

Henry clapped Red on the back and glanced over his shoulder to where, down the street, some of their packmates continued to linger. Some hadn't moved since they'd seen Red carry Blake into the clinic, as if they were watching for a body bag to be rolled out.

"That's probably not a bad thing given the circumstances," Henry said.

Red swallowed thickly and couldn't help the frown that settled over his mouth. "It's been three days, Henry. That's it. Three days and she nearly died. At this rate, she'll be lucky to last the week!"

"Calm down, man." There was just a hint of a command in the Alpha's voice. An order that settled in Red's bones. He took a shuddering breath, releasing it as Henry said, "We'll keep an eye on her and I'll have Monroe and Toby test out the waters for those who will help us keep her safe."