“If you don’t mind,” Sheree said. “I think I’ll wait in my room.”
Mara dismissed her with a wave of her hand.
“Don’t leave the castle,” Logan warned.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Sheree assured him. She ran up the stairs, tears stinging her eyes. Why had Derek left so abruptly? Why hadn’t he told her where he was going? Why hadn’t he taken her with him?
Frightened for Derek, she paced the floor, then threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in his pillow. His scent filled her nostrils, reminding her of every minute they had spent together—nights filled with passion, the sound of his voice whispering that he loved her, the surprisingly sensual pleasure of his bite, the strength of his arms around her, the sheer wonder of what he was.
Sheree.
She lifted her head at the sound of his voice. “Derek? Derek, are you all right?”
I need you.
Where are you?
Near where we dumped the serum. Come alone. Hurry!
How will I get out of the castle without being seen?
Go down the back stairs at the end of the corridor, turn right, and go out through the kitchen. Hurry, love.
Spurred by the urgency in Derek’s voice, Sheree hurried out of her room and down the old stone stairway once used by castle servants.
She paused at the back door. What was she doing, rushing out into the night to meet Derek when the moon was rising?
Sheree? His voice was filled with pain, touched with panic.
How could she refuse when he obviously needed her?
Taking her courage in hand, she stepped outside.
The rain had turned to mist. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Her enemy, the moon, peeked through the lowering clouds.
As fast as she could, she made her way up the side of the mountain. She was panting by the time she reached the top.
Derek was waiting for her. Even in the dark, she could see the shiny wet stain on the front of his shirt.
“You’re hurt!”
“Yeah. Dammit!” Grabbing her by the waist, he shoved her to the ground. “They’re coming!”
“Who?”
“Hunters! Shit! Stay down!”
Heart pounding, Sheree pressed herself to the ground. She had expected Derek to drop down beside her. She glanced up when she heard him groan, felt her eyes widen as he began to transform in front of her.
Murmuring, “No, oh, no,” she watched in horror as he dropped to his hands and knees, his body writhing, stretching as bones popped and ligaments realigned themselves. His clothes shredded, exposing the thick black fur sprouting from his skin.
Throwing back his head, he howled in pain as he fought against the change.
The heart-wrenching howl, the sight of Derek caught between human and werewolf, sent chills racing down Sheree’s spine.
“Up there!” A man’s shout cut through the night. “I see him!”
No, Sheree thought, her blood turning to ice. Oh, no, please no!
Caught in the throes of the change, the werewolf snarled at the three heavily armed men closing in on him.
In fear for Derek’s life, Sheree sprang to her feet. Waving her arms, she ran forward, shouting, “Don’t shoot!”
The men hesitated at her unexpected appearance.
“What the hell!” exclaimed one of the hunters.
And then time warped and everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
The werewolf sprang toward the nearest hunter. The man cried out as the werewolf’s jaws clamped around his throat. Shaking the man as if he were a rag doll, the wolf hurled him into the shadows.
At the hunter’s scream, the other two men opened fire, shooting blindly.
Sheree reeled backward as something slammed into her with the force of a sledge hammer. She stared in horror at the dark stain spreading across her middle. Had she been shot? Why didn’t it hurt, she wondered, as, fighting a wave of nausea, she sank to the ground.
Moments later, Logan and Mara appeared.
Mara jerked the weapon from one hunter. Logan disarmed the other. Not wanting to see the fate of the two men, Sheree closed her eyes.
Voices. Low. Worried. Frantic.
The sound of bones popping.
Derek’s voice, calling her name.
Why did he sound so far away? Why couldn’t she open her eyes?
“Sheree! Sheree! Dammit, Logan, she’s dying.”
Dying? Was he talking about her?
“Sheree, love, don’t leave me!”
It took every ounce of what little strength she had left to open her eyes. Derek was leaning over her, his beautiful dark eyes wet with tears. Mara and Logan stood behind him, faces grave.
“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered hoarsely. “I never should have asked you to come out here.”
She tried to say that it was all right, that she loved him, but she couldn’t form the words. She whimpered, her hands clutching at her stomach as the numbness wore off. Darkness hovered around her, beckoning her, promising peace, an end to pain. Her eyelids fluttered down.