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Jayah stayed kneeling over the guard, checking his pulse, and that of his friend next to him, both of them sprawled awkwardly in the dirt.

She begged their forgiveness, though they’d never know it.

At the first sound of footsteps, she was confused—they came from the opposite direction from the prison tree.

Her hand tightened on the arm of the guard and she instinctively crouched, ready to fly into combat as a shift commander walked into the clearing, then stopped dead, his eyes cutting between sprawled males and Jayah, shock and anger flashing in his eyes.

“What the hell—?”

“I don’t know—” But before Jayah could come up with something to say, a heavy arm wrapped around her middle and yanked her off her feet. She struggled immediately—but then a cold, hard blade appeared pressed right under her ear, and she froze, her chest heaving.

And with every inhale her body screamed.

.....

Not Skhal. Not Skhal. Not Skhal.

The shift commander froze, stunned, his eyes locked on the male over Jayah’s shoulder.

Jayah trembled, trying not to panic. Those weren’t Skhal’s hands on her, holding that blade. She reached for Zev in the link, tried to keep her voice calm.

‘Please… I’m on your side, Zev. I didn’t call him in, I don’t know how he—’

A low, deep growl appeared in the link—Skhal’s desperate distress.

‘You kill my mate, Zev, and I will kill you.’ There was no ring of arrogance, no declaration of Alpha Male Bullshit, as Aymora had always been so fond of calling it.

No.

Skhal issued a threat, and Zev’s hand tightened on her.

‘Please… don’t kill the commander. He’s just coming to check his guards. He didn’t know what he was walking into,’ she begged, as Skhal’s growl continued to roll in the link.

“Don’t. Move,” Zev instructed the Shift Leader, who nodded once, tightly, but his eyes narrowed and his upper lip began to curl.

“Stay back.” Zev started to walk backwards, carrying Jayah and snarling at the Commander to stay away.

She knew that the soldier would appear to obey the command until they were out of sight. But then—

Just as they sank into the trees and their view of the soldier was obscured, Jayah heard a cry and a thud.

The shadow of Sasha, hunched over her son, joined them in the trees. She must have been behind Zev the whole time. But Jayah didn’t have time to consider what else might go wrong, because Zev wasn’t letting her go, and he still held that blade pressed to the skin under her ear at precisely the right angle to punch it into her brain if he chose.

Jayah’s heart hammered in her chest. Struggling to control her panic, she forced herself not to struggle, but fear screamed through her. ‘Let me go, Zev. I’m on your side. Let me go.’

But he didn’t. And Sasha didn’t tell him too, hovering at his side as he hurried through the trees as fast as he could while holding her.

There was a brief moment—a shadow that shifted just ahead, then suddenly Skhal stood in between two trees just ahead, hands at his sides, his chest heaving.

“Let. Her. Go.”

“She’s our shield!” Zev hissed. “If we meet a patrol on the way—”

“She is my mate, and she saved you. Let her go or I swear on all that’s holy, Zev, I will make you.”

There was a tense moment where the two males stared at each other past her… but all Jayah could do was drink in the sight of her mate, towering and furious, ready to go to battle with the leader he honored… for her.

The tension of the moment hung in the night like a bowstring pulled too tight and twanged.

But finally, Zev’s arm around her eased. Jayah’s feet hit the ground and she stumbled forward, to her mate’s waiting arms, as behind her, Sasha gave a sob of relief.

But Skhal apparently wasn’t ready to simply relax. When Jayah reached him, he whipped her behind him, but remained facing Zev, chin down, but eyes locked with the younger male. He never took his eyes off of the wolf, who Jayah could now see, despite the night dark under the trees.

His jaw was tense and twitching, his body trembling. He was a force of nature held at bay—unwillingly.

“Zev,” Skhal whispered, his voice dark with warning.

The male’s eyes flashed and his hands closed to fists, but then Sasha leaned in and touched him, pressing into his chest, holding their son.

“Zev, please. We’re free. Look. We’re free.”

The male’s eyes reluctantly tore from Skhal’s down to look at his mate and their son pressed between them.

Jayah watched, shocked, as everything about Zev changed. It was like watching a stone turn to water.

The male breathed. He softened. The fire in his eyes didn’t disappear, but it faded—embers from a bonfire, instead of the flames themselves.

Jayah could see and sense the warmth and softness rise in him, the fierce protection of his mate, the love…

It affected a stunning transformation in his stance, his expression, even his scent.

‘He’s a good male, Jayah,’ Skhal breathed in the link. ‘But he’s been pushed to his limits.’

Jayah had known it from his scent, but she could see it now.

With a small whine, Zev wrapped his arms around Sasha and they both huddled together over their child, murmuring love and care.

“We need to move, Zev. I knocked the soldier out, but we’ve only got maybe ten minutes at best. I didn’t want to kill him.”

Zev shot him a dark look for that, but then he nodded and pulled barely away from Sasha looking down at her. “We need to shift and run in our wolves. You’ll have to ride me.”

Sasha nodded, but then looked down at Zan. “I need to hold him—”

“I can help,” Jayah blurted.

They both turned to look at her and Skhal’s hands tightened on her. She swallowed hard at the dark warning in Zev’s gaze, but plowed on.

“I can help you make a sling so he’s safe while you use your hands.”

It was a matter of half a minute, a torn shirt, and Skhal keeping watch over Zev while Jayah had to touch Sasha, but within moments, little Zan, his shock of black hair the only thing sticking out from the swaddling, was safe and tight against his mother’s chest.

Skhal stepped between Zev and Jayah when Zev shifted, but the moment Sasha was on his back, he began to run.

Skhal looked at Jayah, and they both shifted, then ran after him.

It had been instinct to go with her mate, and Jayah’s wolf was relieved when she didn’t fight. But the further they drew from the WildWood—and the further Jayah led them through the patrol routes, through non-descript creeks and under rock overhangs, the more her heart beat at her ribs and she had to wrestle against her wolf.

It was necessary.

It was right.

They needed to reach their people safely, and only she knew the safest route to the ravine…

But it was also betrayal.