Chapter 2

Hollis POV:

The blinding headlights cut through the fog, and I threw my bleeding arm up to shield my eyes, my drained body too slow to jump out of the way.

Tires screeched against the asphalt, kicking up acrid white smoke as the massive black SUV skidded to a halt less than two feet from my knees.

The rush of air knocked me off balance. I hit the freezing pavement hard, scraping the skin off my elbow until fresh blood beaded on the surface.

The cramping in my lower belly reached an unbearable peak. Curling into a tight ball with both hands pressed over my womb, I let the pitch-black darkness pull me under.

Through the haze of unconsciousness, I felt myself lifted from the icy street into a chest that radiated heat like a furnace. A sharp, commanding scent of winter pine wrapped around me, easing the violent shivers racking my frame.

When my heavy eyelids finally fluttered open, the first thing I saw was a canopy of black velvet and a massive crystal chandelier sparkling above my head.

I lay on a king-sized bed soft enough to sink into, the air warm and thick with that same pine scent. My mind went blank for a second as I tried to prop myself up on my bruised elbows.

Then, a low, gravelly male voice carrying absolute Alpha authority echoed from just outside the bedroom door—the exact voice of the devil who had torn me apart in the dark two months ago.

Ferrell POV:

Twenty minutes earlier, I had slammed on the brakes in the middle of the slums, the veins on the back of my hands bulging as a murderous glare darkened my eyes.

Cursing the strays who didn't know how to stay off the road, I shoved open the heavy bulletproof door and stepped out into the freezing wind.

The instant my boots hit the asphalt, a faint, unmistakable scent cut through the stench of garbage and hit the back of my throat.

Cedarwood and white lilies.

My tall frame froze, the breath catching in my lungs. I would know that scent even in my grave—it belonged to the girl I had lost control and claimed during my Heat two months ago before she vanished without a trace.

My blood boiled in my veins, my heart hammering against my ribs as goosebumps rose along my arms in a violent physical surge. Inside my head, my massive black Dire Wolf let out a deafening roar of pure possession: Mine!

Every werewolf knows the Moon Goddess binds Fated Mates through five undeniable reactions upon meeting—the intoxicating scent, the physical surge, the inner wolf's roar, the sudden peace in the soul, and the electric sparks upon contact.

I strode across the filthy puddles and scooped her fragile body off the ground. The moment my fingertips brushed her icy skin, a jolt of electricity shot up my spine, filling the hollow ache in my chest with a sudden, overwhelming sense of peace.

Under the glare of the headlights, her face was paper-white, framed by tangled blonde hair. Then I saw the fresh, gaping needle puncture on her arm and smelled the sweet metallic tang of pure White Wolf blood.

Who dared drain my mate?

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached, and a wave of Alpha dominion blasted outward, making the stray dogs in the alley whimper and flatten their ears to the ground.

Stripping off my bespoke suit jacket, I wrapped her small frame tightly, carried her to the backseat of the SUV, and immediately projected my voice through the Mind-Link to my Gamma and head of security, Iain.

Five minutes. Have Arthur waiting at my penthouse with a full trauma kit.

Ignoring Iain's startled reply, I floored the gas pedal, tearing toward the Cummings Pack corporate tower in the city center.

Once the private elevator opened into my penthouse, our Pack Healer, Arthur, bowed frantically with his medical case. I carried her straight to my black velvet bed and brushed a cold lock of hair from her cheek.

"Examine her and fix her," I ordered Arthur, slipping my family's ancestral moonstone wolf-crest ring onto my right index finger and rubbing the cold stone as I swore whoever hurt her would see their entire bloodline buried.