Hunter's Heart (Alpha Pack #4)(36)

Daria, where are you? Hold on, honey. I'm coming.

She'd probably imagined that, too. But she was too tired to answer anyway.

. . .

In wolf form, Ryon raced through the woods toward the compound. Toward his mate. He had heard her cry out, and had immediately turned back when the pain felled him.

Her agony had ripped through him as though it were his own, and he'd actually stumbled and fell. Sitting on his haunches trying to figure out what had happened, the realization hit him.

Daria was going through her first shift. His mind reeled at the knowledge. Hadn't it taken Kira and Rowan a few weeks to experience their wolf for the first time? God, this had happened so soon, he wasn't ready.

She was confused, in pain. Alone. All of these horrible things should not have happened. If he'd been a better mate, he wouldn't have indulged in a moment of self-pity, leaving her by herself at the compound. Not even for an hour, not when he knew she would need him, and not over something as stupid as his jealousy of a man who was no real threat to his mating.

Because he was a selfish bastard, she was suffering. He called out to her as he ran, but she wasn't answering. The bond between them was blank, but not as though she was willfully shutting him out. It was as if she was asleep, or unconscious. He ran faster, frantic to find her.

He wasn't sure how long he searched, but he was starting to panic. Their bond would've helped him find her faster, but he was hindered. Maybe she hadn't even run in his direction.

The last thing he needed was to see the glowing form of a spirit step from behind a tree. Halting in his tracks, he recognized the woman who'd been mutilated. This time her image was whole, her skin unmarred by the atrocity inflicted upon her. Sometimes this happened, the victims reverting back to the state they were in before they died. Maybe they couldn't accept what had happened, much less that they were supposed to be dead.

As the ghost moved closer, eyes beseeching, Ryon shifted. Kneeling in the dirt, he shook his head. "I can't help you."

Monster, she mouthed.

Ryon shivered. The spirits were so seldom able to get their woes across. Leave it to this one to be different. "I know. I'm sorry for what the beast did to you, but we're going to catch him. I promise."

This time, her voice came through on a whisper. "My husband?"

"Everyone is looking for him. We'll find him." She didn't need to know they probably already had.

"Monster," she said sadly, the strange, dark eye sockets glistening with unshed tears.

Jesus. "I hope not. But one way or another, we'll find him."

From her bereft expression, she must have known he'd likely suffered the same fate. Why did the ghosts torment him when there wasn't a f**king thing he could do? What good was this stupid "gift"?

"Look for the light," he told her. "When you find it, keep going. Maybe your husband is there, waiting for you."

A look of hope bloomed, and she turned without another word. Began to walk away. In seconds, she vanished into the trees again, and he exhaled a shaky breath.

"I'll never freaking get used to that." If the woman's husband was dead, he prayed they'd find each other. It drove him crazy that he never knew if the spirits found peace.

Shifting again, he resumed his search for Daria. Scenting the air, he began to come undone. He couldn't locate her. Then a flash of white caused him to put on the brakes. In the path ahead, a small white female wolf stood with her head up, ears forward in a nonthreatening manner. She didn't snarl or offer any aggression. She simply turned, glanced over her shoulder once as if expecting him to follow, then took off.

Taking a chance, he ran after her. She could be leading him into a trap, but he didn't think so. Instinct typically served him well, and whatever this wolf's agenda was, Ryon and his mate were not a part of it. He hoped.

At one point he lost sight of the wolf, and bounded around a bend in the path, determined to catch up. Instead, he found that the white wolf was gone-and a black shape was lying curled at the base of a tree. Torn and discarded clothes were strewn not far from the form. Approaching cautiously, he sniffed. Scented his mate.

She was a bit bigger than the white wolf, but not by much. His heart lifted at seeing her there, safe and sleeping. His poor baby must have been worn out from her first shift, and he felt bad that it had happened without anyone there to guide her.

Shifting back to human form, he knelt at her side and ran a hand over her silky black coat. "You're stunning," he said softly. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

His touch and his voice roused her, and she sat up, whining pitifully. "You're all right," he soothed. "Easy, now. I'm here."

Liquid brown eyes gave him a fearful stare. How did this happen to me?

His mouth fell open, and then he smiled. "You're doing it! You can mind-speak with me."

Not with anyone else?

"No." His smile faded with dread at the coming talk. He knew where her questions would lead, and he couldn't put off the answers any longer. "Just with me."

Why not? Is it because you bit me? And is that how I became a wolf, like you?

Her voice in his head was rising in anxiety. "You need to shift back before we have this talk."

Answer me!

"Shift and we will," he said firmly. "Imagine each part of your body. Your arms, legs, hands and feet. Your face. Make your wolf obey and step back."