tongue.
Her teeth ripped into his shoulder, pushing through the fur to tear at the vulnerable skin underneath.
He seized her back leg. She broke free, but only for an instant. Abel dived for another attack. She lowered her head and slammed it into his side.
The force of the impact threw him into the pond. Water slopped over the rocks.
He thrashed, growling and howling.
By the time he emerged from the pond, fur dripping with crimson-stained water, Rylie had the higher ground. But even with blood streaming down his face and flank, his eyes burned. Challenging her.
Abel jumped, and he slammed her into the rocks. His weight pressed against her shoulders. Forced her chest to the ground.
Jaws clamped tight on the back of her neck.
A sense of peace spread through Rylie—an acknowledgment of dominance. She sagged underneath him.
He growled and shook her, but it was gentler than before.
Someone was calling her name. Humans were somewhere on the other side of the property, searching for Rylie and Abel.
The wolf didn’t care. She didn’t acknowledge them.
She didn’t even notice when smoke rose over the hills.
Abel was dominant—Alpha. And she was at his mercy.
S IX
Abandon Ship
Rylie woke up at the furthest edge of the sanctuary, in the back corner where a barbed wire fence protected the farms beyond from an onslaught of werewolves.
And she was bleeding.
She rolled onto her back with a groan. Everywhere hurt. Her back, her legs, her head—it had been a long time since she had a headache.
There was no accompanying rush of healing fever. Just pain.
She sat up to look at herself in the blue light of dawn. Her body was a mess of scrapes and tears. How was that even possible?
Weirdly, the ache was kind of… good. Rylie had the kind of heavy, satiated feeling she enjoyed after devouring a deer or cow as a wolf. But there were no prey animals on the ranch, and she obviously hadn’t escaped. It made no sense.
Someone else groaned.
Rylie twisted to find Abel laying a few feet away. He looked a lot like she did—naked and bleeding. But he hadn’t woken up yet.
“Oh my God,” she said, crawling to his side.
Abel had healed the silver injury. There was a neat scar on his side where he had been shot. But his shoulder was torn open, and the skin was ragged all the way down his chest. A ring of puncture marks on his arms formed the shape of teeth.
Wounds inflicted by the Alpha didn’t heal as quickly as those delivered by another wolf. Which meant that Rylie must have ripped him open the night before.
She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to remember what had happened, but nothing came to mind. Rylie had the impression of body clashing against body, a struggle in the grass, the rush of adrenaline—but that was it.
A fight between them would have explained what happened to Abel. But what had happened to her ?
Abel roused enough to walk on his own, and they staggered toward the house together. Climbing up and down the swelling hills was much harder on two tired legs than four.
When they crested the hill by the pond, Rylie saw the barn. She gasped.
The skeletal remains of a building stood where the barn should have been. Ribs of iron jutted from the earth, and broken red wood was scattered everywhere, like something had exploded. The surrounding grass was scorched and wet.
Her mind tried to make sense of the debris. Was that the TV? Had those been beds?
It didn’t matter. Everything was destroyed.
Seth was still wetting down charred embers with Gwyn and Yasir’s help, but he dropped the hose when he saw them.
“Rylie!”
He scrambled to the top of the hill, and she sagged in his arms. He was covered in ash.
“What happened?” she asked, clutching at his shirt. His hands cupped her elbows to keep her on her feet.
“Pagan escaped,” Seth said, addressing Abel as well. “Cain came for her. They burned the barn.
Even after seeing it for herself, hearing the words from Seth made Rylie feel like
Temple Grandin, Richard Panek