Daria loved him.
That was all he needed in this world. At peace, he fell into a deep sleep.
A finger of guilt pricked at Daria’s conscience. She loved him to distraction, and that’s what made her decision so difficult.
Like his Pack friends, Ryon was stubborn to the core. Once he’d set his path, there was no straying from it. He was taking her out of her uncle’s territory, to meet his team. They would leave here and she would never get another crack at stopping August’s nefarious practices.
She would be tempted to give up, let the Pack handle what to do next—if Ryon had never told her the story of how his team was turned. Everything for the Pack began there. Because of whoever had made those rogue wolf shifters, her new friends had suffered. Just as Ben now suffered because of what her uncle, Bowman, and Malik had done.
She could not, in good conscience, leave and go on about her life knowing that August was getting away with crimes worse than murder. She would not risk him coming back to haunt her family and friends.
Ryon rolled away from her, grumbled a bit, and fell silent. Daria’s guilt ate at her conscience long after his breathing had evened out in sleep.
Long after she left his side and slipped into the night.
Eleven
Ryon’s curse knifed through the pitch-blackness as he patted the empty place where Daria had been.
Cool to the touch. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. How long had she been gone? Five minutes or five hours? It took a matter of mere seconds to meet with death in the forest, especially at night.
Sweet Jesus. Since his wolf’s night vision didn’t work well unless he was in that form, he fumbled and located the flashlight he’d brought inside the tent. Because the light could alert any of August’s goons camped nearby, he’d saved it for emergency use only. The thought of Daria stumbling across a band of men armed with assault rifles, or Ben in his bestial form, more than qualified.
He checked his watch. Half past midnight. She had as much as two hours on him. When he caught up with her, he was going to shake her teeth loose. What was she thinking? She wasn’t, plain and simple. She’d let emotion overcome good judgment and escalated the danger they were already in.
Working quickly by flashlight, Ryon broke camp and tidied the area, making sure that he’d left behind no trace of their stay. A fleeting worry that she’d come back here to find him gone niggled at his brain. What if she’d only stepped away to take care of personal needs? He reached out through their bond.
Daria? No answer.
He tried again, waited ten more minutes, then dismissed the possibility of her absence being temporary. She’d left with no intention of coming back until she’d returned to August’s estate and taken care of unfinished business. He had to give her points for having the temerity to see their op through. Unfortunately, he had to deduct them for lack of good sense.
Grinning now, he dug in his pack. His mate wouldn’t get far, even armed with her own flashlight. Because of his secret weapon, she’d lose ground fast. He dug some more and the grin began to fade. No. She couldn’t have—
“Dammit!”
The night vision goggles were gone. They would make traveling much easier for her. If she had a big head start, they were in deep trouble. Glancing at the compass on his watch, he got his bearings.
Ryon gambled that she’d circle around to the north, then west to stay on the left of August’s goons and keep the river on her right. Hundreds of miles of untouched forest spread to the south, so it seemed reasonable that she wouldn’t take that route.
Unless she’d figured he would see it that way. He muttered another curse. Christ, what a mess. In the end, he settled on the northwest route. His gut told him that she would choose the quickest, safest way to reach her goal. She wasn’t stubborn enough to risk getting lost just to throw him off. He hoped.
The trek was slow going. His flashlight, though powerful, could illuminate only a few feet in front of him due to the dense tangle of plants that served as a barrier between him and what might be waiting beyond them. The world ended in darkness five feet in front of his body and slid at his back. It was a creepy sensation he could’ve done without. Even his wolf whined.
Ryon pushed on until daybreak. By then he worried that the security force had found her, or he’d missed her altogether. If August hurt her, Ryon would take the man to hell with him. His sharpened eyesight and smell had picked up a faint trail , but what if he was too late? Three hours past sunrise, fear had replaced worry. Without the cloak of night to hamper his tracking, he should’ve run her down by now.
What if thrummed in his brain. His nighttime jaunt had left him tired and desperate. Stopping for a drink and to decide where to go next, he was reaching into his pack when he saw it.
There, hardly visible through the trees. A sliver of black T-shirt and long black hair.
Daria sat on a rotten log not twenty yards from where he stood, his night vision goggles resting beside her. She was so perfectly still on her perch, she had to have heard him approaching. The woman had planned on letting him march right by! His rare temper exploded. He stomped through the trees toward her, thinking it odd that she didn’t turn around.
“That’s right, it won’t do you any good to run!” he yelled. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t handcuff us together, mate.”
Daria didn’t react. Ryon stepped over the log, continuing his tirade and reaching out to grab her arm at the same time.
“Jesus Christ, do you have any idea how stupid—”
“Snake,” she whispered.
Ryon’s hand—and his blood—froze. Her brown eyes were wide with terror, her face ashen. He didn’t move and for a few seconds, didn’t breathe. Calm, stay calm.
“Where?” He had to strain to hear her answer.
“In my shirt.”
Son of a bitch.
“Front or back?”
“Front. I think it’s asleep.”
He studied the front of her shirt and noted the barely perceptible bulge at her stomach. The snake must be small, but in nature, a creature’s size didn’t matter at all. In fact, the smaller the animal the more venomous nature seemed to have made it in compensation. Even her wolf might not be able to recover from the poison.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, keeping his tone soft and even.
Ryon straightened and backed away, making as little noise as possible. Her eyes locked with his, frightened and beseeching. God, he might’ve startled the thing into biting her if he’d jerked her arm. He berated himself for an idiot. He should have known better when he’d seen her frozen like a statue.
He retrieved his pack and returned to stand behind her, agonizing over what to do. They couldn’t wait out the serpent, that much was obvious. It had found a nice, comfy nest to sleep away the day and most likely wouldn’t move again until nightfall. Daria would pass out first, either from exhaustion or fright.
“I’m going to cut your shirt off. It’s the only way.”
“Okay. Ryon, I—”
“Shh. Stop talking.”
“Hurry.”
Slipping a hunting knife from his boot, Ryon fought to quiet his racing heart. Hands trembling, he pushed her ponytail aside, grasped her T-shirt at the collar with one hand, and positioned the blade of the knife pointing downward. Slowly he began to cut, splitting the shirt open at her back. Her lacy white bra peeked at him from beneath, hugging perfect bronze skin. His gut knotted and he forced himself not to think of what would happen to that perfection if he failed.