Thirty yards.
Her face and throat were one hell of a target, kneeling as she was, right in line with his muzzle. The wolf’s gleaming fangs would shred her with ease. But it was the best angle for a body shot, and Rowan’s legs were about to give out anyway, terrified as she was.
Twenty yards.
Behind her there was a rush of sound, and the driveway was suddenly flooded with headlights and screeching tires. Rowan couldn’t risk looking away again. More help had come, but like Kinka, it was too late. Rowan’s finger rested on the trigger as she tried to breathe.
A door opened. Someone shouted.
“Rowan!”
It was Seth, and Rowan let out one sob at the sound of his voice. Oh God, how she needed him now, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the wolf bearing down on her. Kinka had picked up some speed—he was in her line of sight now, but the wolf had gained too much ground.
Ten yards.
Thirty feet.
It had to be now.
Rowan held her breath, which was wrong, and she knew it, but panic had gripped her, and her resolve was fading with each second, and everything she knew about protection and predators seemed to fly out of her head in that one instant, replaced by one word.
Shoot.
Rowan squeezed the trigger.
The carbine exploded. The shot hit home. But the wolf had momentum. It stumbled but righted itself, determined to finish the kill. Behind him, Kinka launched himself at the enemy, latching on to the wolf’s hindquarters with powerful jaws.
Wolf and dog hurtled at Rowan, slamming into her and knocking her back. The carbine clattered to the ground, empty, useless. The wolf’s own jaws snapped over and over, just inches from Rowan’s face as she tried to push herself out of its reach, palms scraping over gravel and loose rock.
Kinka let go, and the wolf crouched. It sprang from the ground, directly at Rowan, but Kinka’s larger frame came down on him hard. The dog caught the wolf by the neck, and they collapsed to the ground.
The sickening snap and crunch of bone filled the air.
The wolf, trapped under the Pyrenees, heaved a final breath, then its eyes rolled back.
“Rowan!” Seth called again, and his heavy boots came into view. He grabbed at her arm, but she pushed him away.
“The dogs!” she cried, voice broken and raspy.
Seth turned into the direction of the warring packs. Rowan saw he had a rifle of his own at the ready. He fired off shot after shot into the air as he advanced on them. One wolf broke off and loped away. The third was sprawled in the dirt, bloodied, half-moving. Seth stood over him and finished him off then hurried back to Rowan with Jory and Kono yipping at his heels, still in a frenzy.
“Mama!” Willow shouted, and Rowan could hear her now. She whipped her head around to the porch, where the girl was standing half in the open doorway, barefoot and crying.
“You stay there!” Rowan cried. “Close the door!”
Willow reluctantly ducked back inside, watching them from the glass pane of the storm door.
Rowan pushed at Kinka’s shoulder, trying to help the dog to stand. When he had difficulty, she looked up at Seth. “Help me get him into the house.”
Seth passed her his rifle and lifted the huge dog to his feet. Kinka’s 160 pounds appeared to give the man no trouble as he coaxed the dog to the porch then gripped him around the middle and carried him up the wooden steps.
Rowan hurried to the door, both rifles in hand now, and opened it to let them inside. Kono and Jory followed, concerned now for their fallen leader.
Seth helped him onto the couch at Rowan’s direction, and he knelt before the guard dog to inspect his wounds.
“Is Kinka going to die?!” Willow cried between sobs.
Rowan secured the rifles then swept her daughter into her arms. “No, baby,” she said, holding Willow close. “It’s just his leg.” She held her breath, though, as Seth spread Kinka’s dirty, bloody fur, inch by inch, starting with the neck and working his way all across the body.
He finally nodded to them, and Rowan let out a sigh, feeling like all her energy had finally been sapped from her.
“Doc Chambers can look at him in the morning,” Seth declared. “I’ll drive him over first thing.”
“See,” Rowan whispered. “He’s going to be okay, baby. He’s going to be fine.”
Rowan herself wasn’t exactly fine, but she couldn’t let Willow worry any more than she already was.
“Can he stay, Mama? Can he sleep in my room?”
Rowan sighed. “Honey, we can’t get him up the stairs. But all the dogs are staying in the house tonight, okay? They can sleep on the couch.”
Willow’s lower lip jutted out. “Promise?”
What could Rowan say about the dog who’d saved her life? Except that he, and the others, always had a place in their home.
“Promise.”
Kinka let Willow cover him with a blanket, and though Rowan was certain it pained him to move, he licked her in the face appreciatively.
Rowan put her face next to his and hugged him gently. “Thank you,” she whispered in the Kinka’s ear. The dog responded with a slow thump of his tail. She lifted Willow again and carried her up the stairs, clutching the girl tighter than normal, but Willow didn’t seem to mind. Rowan lowered her gently into her bed and tucked her in tightly.
“I was so scared,” Willow whispered.
Rowan bit her lip and forced her voice to remain steady. “Me, too,” was all she could manage to get out. She planted a kiss on her forehead and left the table light on this time, given all that had happened. Slowly, with a shaking hand, she reached for the doorknob and pulled the door closed.
She was barely aware of Seth following her to her room. The tears welled up, and her shoulders shook, and Rowan knew she was losing the fight. When they were inside the bedroom, she closed the door and rested her forehead against it, unable to turn around, unable to speak.
“Rowan.”
She couldn’t turn around, couldn’t let him see her breaking down—yet again. She’d let herself get too caught up in daydreaming, in hazy, happy memories of farm life while ignoring the harsh reality of living here.
And maybe she was doing the same thing with Seth. Maybe his kind eyes and gentle voice and searing kiss were blinding her to the truth, that things could never work between them—for so many reasons. And maybe he knew it, maybe that’s why he was here. To tell her that tomorrow wasn’t coming.
“Rowan,” he said again.
But she couldn’t move, couldn’t bear for it to be over, yet couldn’t see a way forward. She was lost in her own darkness. If she asked Seth to lead her out, would he? Or would he turn away and leave her standing alone?
Chapter Nineteen
‡
Seth moved in behind her and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, trying to forget that he’d come so close to losing her moments ago. Or seeing her hurt, which would have been just as unbearable. She shook in his arms, crying quietly, probably worried that Willow would hear.
He was silent for a moment, just feeling her against him, reminding himself that she was here and she was safe. He was calmer now. If it hadn’t been for Willow, he might have dragged Rowan into the house, stripped her bare to assure himself that she was all right, and taken her on the couch, if they’d gotten that far. Probably they would’ve only made it to the floor. But Rowan was better than that, better than the couch or the floor, and Seth was glad that in the time it had taken to assure Willow that everything was okay, he’d calmed down a bit.
But just a bit.
He didn’t rip her clothes off or feel the need to anymore, but he still wanted to see her. In those few seconds when he’d come so close to losing her, everything in him had crystallized, sharpened to daggers inside him. Rowan was his. And Seth was going to take her. It was why he hadn’t been able to sleep and come in the first place.
She leaned against him, shuddering now only with every deep breath, tears ebbing.
“Shh,” he whispered into her ear as he slid his hands down her stomach. His fingers worked slowly, but with purpose, as he popped each button, revealing silky smooth skin underneath.
Rowan leaned into him, resting the back of her head in the hollow of his shoulder.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he told her. “I’ve got you now.”
He pushed her away just enough to slip off the blouse. He brought his mouth down on her shoulder, savoring her. And he knew it was just the start. Rowan Archer wasn’t leaving this room until Seth had tasted every inch of her. He tugged down the straps of her bra, unfastened it with ease, and let it fall to the hardwood floor in front of them.
He could see the swell of her breasts, their swollen points, and he rasped his palm over one, making her gasp. Ravenous with a hunger he could no longer put off, he snaked an arm around her waist, drew her back to the bed, and pulled her between his knees as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the mattress. He took her hard nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. She whimpered a bit, but he didn’t care. Rowan was rough stock, wild at heart, just like the land around them, just like Seth himself was.
They only gave off the illusion of being tamed.
He bit her, just slightly, before stating his case. Reluctantly, he dragged his mouth away but still pressed his lips to her salty skin. “You’re mine, Rowan. I’ve marked you,” he growled. “Once, at least,” he amended and looked up at her.