Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack #4)(101)

A crack of gunfire split the air. And another. And another. The bear staggered, swayed. Crashed to the ground, jaw falling open. The cat rolled into the mud, white-hot agony pulsing through her, dragging her under. Then the world went black.

The gray wolf let out a savage growl as the Tundra Beta wrapped his paws around the wolf’s neck, aiming to take him down again. Wrestling out of the tight grip, the gray wolf swiped at the Beta’s eyes and muzzle, relishing his yelp of pain.

The Beta had tried to pin the gray wolf down countless times. None had worked. But the gray wolf was beginning to tire.

Pain from so many injuries blazed through him. Each time his sides heaved with his heavy breaths, the movements pulled at the deep rake wounds on his flanks. The blood loss would soon tire him further. Would slow him down and—

The Beta raked his claws over the wolf’s badly bitten ear. Fire blazed over the injury. Snarling, the gray wolf pounced on him again. He clawed and bit and battered his opponent hard enough to make his knees buckle.

Leaping on that moment of weakness, the gray wolf wrestled him to the ground. Pinned him flat on his back. Used his rear claws to eviscerate him. With a sharp, vicious tug, he tore out the Beta’s throat.

The male went limp, but the gray wolf felt no triumph. Not while his pack was still outnumbered. Not while he could feel faint echoes of his mate’s pain vibrating up their bond. She wasn’t seriously hurt, but she was injured and—

Engines roared. Tires screeched.

The wolf’s head snapped up as several vehicles neared. The wolf recognized the people who piled out of them. The Phoenix Pack.

Excruciating pain shot down the mating bond. The wolf froze, heart leaping in his chest, fear exploding inside him. Distant cracks of gunfire split the air, and a panicked breath left his lungs in a rush.

The wolf bolted. Raced through the woods, paws pounding the earth, body buzzing with fear and adrenaline. He heard others following, but he didn’t slow down to wait for them. He could feel his mate’s pain through their bond. She was deeply wounded.

His vision abruptly darkened, and his legs almost crumpled beneath him. Unconscious, she was unconscious. The wolf put on a burst of speed, lungs burning, muscles hurting.

He heard growling, snarling, hissing, and roaring in the near distance. Knew he was close. The scene he found shocked him. Made him skid to a halt.

The bodies of black bears littered the ground and bobbed in the creek. Some were dead, some were close to it. Others were fighting viciously. One bear staggered past him, covered in pallas cats. Another bear was swiping out its paws as two wolves worked as a team to bring it down, pouncing and slashing. A sow was expertly climbing the tree, heading right for the human from his pack. She shot it in the head, and it hit the ground so hard a tremor ran through it.

His inner human beat at the gray wolf, snatching his attention, urging him to find their mate. The wolf glanced around, nostrils flaring, sifting through the various scents to search for hers. Locking onto it, he tracked her. And the breath slammed out of him. She was limp on the ground, unconscious, wheezing. She was surrounded by several other cats who were fighting any enemies trying to get near her.

His inner human lunged for the surface with such strength and speed that the wolf didn’t have the chance to fight him.

Bracken didn’t think there was a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, but the agony was nothing in comparison to the pain he felt upon seeing his mate lying there, barely moving. He started to shrug his way through the cats protecting her, but then a roar caught his attention. He turned toward the sound, fists clenching. A bear was charging at him and—

Gunfire rang through the air over and over. The bear’s body jerked repeatedly as he stumbled to a halt like a drunk. And then, finally, he collapsed with a loud groan.

He’d thank Gwen later, Bracken thought, as he quickly crossed to his mate. He crouched near where she lay, shaky breaths stuttering in and out of her. Fuck, now that he could see her clearly, he realized she was in worse condition than he’d first thought.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, but she didn’t stir, still out cold. He swallowed, heart slamming in his chest. There was so much blood, it was hard to tell where the wounds were or even how many there were. He could make out several scratches, welts, and puncture wounds. But they were the least of his worries when it appeared that she also had a few broken bones. All that thick fur was wet and matted with blood and mud, so he couldn’t tell for sure.

And despite the ice-cold rage that usually disconnected him, he felt fear snake through him. Tasted it. Smelled it. It was the same pure, incapacitating fear he’d felt that day at the drive-in movie theater. As he held Madisyn’s cat to him much as he had cradled Hayden that day, the fear became so overwhelming that he could barely breathe. And Bracken realized he’d never trusted himself to protect her. Never trusted that she’d be able to protect herself either. Never trusted that his happiness would last.

A part of him had felt that he simply didn’t deserve to have her, that he’d fail her sooner or later, that she’d be better off without him. Intellectually, he knew it wasn’t true. But that small, subconscious part of him that disagreed had stopped him from being able to fully bind himself to her, had blocked the mating bond from fully forming. And now she was dying right in front of him, just as he’d always feared she would. Her pulse was fading and weakening, which meant that their mating bond would soon do the same.