Perfect Mate (A Werewolf BBW Shifter Romance #2)(17)

The two others followed Trax outside as he shoved Julia in front of him. She collapsed in front of the cabin and he picked up a dirty blanket from the side of the cabin where it had been resting on top of a stack of firewood. He tossed it over her.

"Cover yourself, my little bitch," he said, grinning. "Show some respect for your mate."

Seething with anger, Julia gathered the blanket around her shoulders tightly. The flicker of headlights shone for a brief second in the distance, bouncing as the car moved closer. The engine's noise grew louder and then stopped behind the hill.

They waited.

Julia looked up and saw the shadows walking over the crest of the hill. And, in the middle—

"Granny Dee?"

Trax stepped forward, his hands curling into fists at his side as the interlopers stopped just thirty feet away from the bonfire.

"Dejara," he growled. "What a pleasant surprise."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Damien braced himself as Jordan swung the car into the woods and down the dirt road. The scent of wolves was strong, and they knew they had found the right place.

"They'll scent us," he said. "Probably already have."

"Then let's hope they don't run," Jordan said. He rolled down the window. "Smells like three of them there."

"And the pack leader," Dee said. "If he's in human form, you won't scent him."

"We can't identify any purebred shifters," Jordan said, his voice starting to panic. "There could be dozens. How many were in your pack?"

"Not that many," Dee said. She didn't seem too concerned. "Once we get closer, I'll be able to sense if he and Julia are there. Same with any others."

They reached a steep hill and Dee told Jordan to stop the car.

"They're just over that hill," Dee said. "There's a small cabin."

"Not like it would have made it up that hill, anyway," Jordan breathed.

"Are they there?" Damien asked. Dee understood what he meant.

"Yes," she said. "Both Julia and Trax."

"Trax?"

"The pack leader."

"That makes four of them," Jordan said, worried. "Their four for our two. It won't be a fair fight."

"Only three," Dee said, opening the car door. "Don't you smell the scent of death?"

"Three, then," Jordan said. He and Damien walked alongside Dee as she started up the hill. "It's still three on two."

"Three on three," Dee said.

Damien inhaled sharply. He didn't want anyone to die for his mistakes. "You don't need to fight. She's my mate."

"She's my granddaughter," Dee said stubbornly. "Apart from that, you'll need me. There's no way you'll be able to take the leader down on your own."

"But—" Damien began.

"I may look old," Dee said, "but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. And senses get more acute as you age. You know that."

"Senses versus strength isn't a great match."

"Says the blind man," Dee cracked grimly. "Save your breath. You'll need it during the fight."

Damien focused on each step in front of him. He could feel Julia's anger already over the hill, anger and fear coming in clouded pulses so strong it made his blood boil. If this leader, this Trax, had hurt her...

They crested the hill and Damien sensed Julia right in front of him. The moment she saw him, a beam of hope pierced through her fear. It gave him courage, but it also gave him pause. That she could place such faith in him unnerved him.

"Three shifters, two men and one woman," Dee said under her breath. "The woman is strong. The leader is much, much stronger than either of them."

"I can sense it," Damien said. There was heat, too. A fire.

"I'll take the leader," Jordan said.

"No," Dee said, with a quiet certainty born of experience. As she spoke, both men knew that she was prepared for the fight ahead. "He is mine."

"We can't fail her," Damien said softly. "I would not be able to live with myself."

"Don't be so optimistic," Dee said, heading down the hill. "If we fail her, we'll all be dead anyway."

The other shifters waited for them at the bottom. Julia's surprise hit Damien hard as she recognized her grandmother. His heart began to beat fast and he breathed deeply to calm himself. Tension led to mistakes. To acting too quickly, on impulse. The last time he'd done that—

In his thoughts flashed the fight of two years ago, in the darkness as he was now. Lukas's legs had risen up and slashed down through the air, with powerful muscles behind them. Damien remembered falling onto his back, helpless to protect himself. The last thing he'd seen was the moon, and then he'd lost his sight forever.

He felt a twinge of pain along the scars that ran over his eyes. The razor-sharp claws had sliced them through, and all of Jordan's work hadn't been able to restore his vision. The flesh had grown back, and a golden haze had come over the surface of his irises, but he'd never be able to see the moon again.

The leader stepped forward, and Damien's fingers curled at his sides.

"Dejara." He addressed Dee as though they were old friends, and perhaps they were.