Page 109 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

When my inner wolf lay on her belly and yielded, I dropped my hands to my lap and inhaled one last steadying breath. Then I unlocked the door and stepped out into the bedroom. I entered the living room to find the kitchen was devoid of Damon. My eyes swung right and snagged on a lone figure looming in the entryway. I stilled. Vacant green eyes stared back at me.

The tiny hairs at the nape of my neck stood on end. Goosebumps rippled across my arms. My inner wolf rose to her paws, her upper lip curling back to expose wicked fangs. She rammed the barrier of my mind as she tried to take over for us and shift—the poor wolf did not understand that we were latent. That she was trapped inside forever.

I bared my teeth at the man. He towered above me, even at this distance. His massive frame swallowed up the space in the entryway. A werebear. His eyes… they held such a vacant look, like a deceased person—glassy and marbled. A thin ring of green, the black of his pupil almost swallowing the color. My instincts told me something wasn’t right.

Not taking my eyes off the bear for one moment, I made a small step to the right. The bear’s eyes tracked me. I fought the urge to swallow. I could show no weakness to this predator. I pushed every ounce of dominance I possessed into the bear, jutting out my chest and chin. The force was like hitting a brick wall.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He cocked his head, his eyes assessing—the empty look sending a shockwave through my gut. I edged a bit more toward the side table, keeping the furniture between us. I had to get my gun that rested out of reach on the table. A slow grin stretched across the bear’s face. Fangs gleamed in the lamplight.

“You really shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Then he moved, the bear launching forward like a bullet.

CHAPTER NINE: AWAKENING

DAMON

Shit. My cock felt half frozen by the time I stopped running at breakneck speed, trying to forget Sasha’s smell. The icy wind snapped at my exposed skin, freezing the rest of my body, for that matter. And the snow that covered the ground clung to my legs, freezing my blood.

My inner bear had gotten the better of me, back at the cabin, but dammit all if the man didn’t want to go along with it, as well. I had clenched my hands into fists, my claws slicing into the tender flesh of my palms. She had run from us. Our mate had holed up inside the bathroom. If I was a betting man, I’d bet she was in there crying.

Fuck.

I clenched my teeth, my fangs protruding out and tried to drag in a steady breath, but my damn heart wouldn’t stop beating like a drum. My erection had been in danger of snapping, and my bear had roared inside my mind loud enough to rupture my eardrums. He’d demanded I chase after our fated mate. My vision had turned gold, and I felt my eyes turning red. I had to know. I couldn’t stay in the kitchen any longer. Not without claiming Sasha. The bear inside had been riding me too hard. I had done the only thing I could do—stalk out of the tiny kitchen and take my ass out into the goddamn blizzard. After flinging open the front door, I had raced outside and set into a hard brisk run, hoping that the biting cold would freeze over my fucking libido.

Which led to my predicament of standing out in the freezing weather. I swiped at the sweat that beaded my brow, panting and my hair damp.

At least I got the sexy little female out of my system.

I took in the surrounding terrain. The trees were bare, their trunks spanning beyond what my gaze could follow. I’d run off miles of sexual frustration. Tuning into my core, I studied my inner bear. The beast heaved with exertion. Though the wild look in his eyes signaled, he was still horny as hell. I knew the run had cooled his need for the female. He would hold. It would be fine.

I made my way back to the cabin, inhaling a calming breath—steps unhurried. Before long, I spotted the log cabin cresting over the hillside, clenching my jaw as I thought back to Sasha. The way her eyes glazed over as I sucked her finger into my mouth. I remembered her soft whimpers as my tongue curled around her smooth skin. My inner bear hummed as his interest piqued.

I shook my head.Dammit.

If I didn’t want permanent blue balls, I needed to get my thoughts under control. A sharp tangy smell filled my nostrils, making me jerk to a halt.

Fear.

Sasha’s fear clung to the air like fog. My heartbeat sped up as I sniffed the air. A vicious snarl ripped from my throat. The unmistakable scent of male lay beneath the thick odor of fear. A male werebear. One I was not familiar with. Terror unlike anything I’d sensed before funneled through my veins like a cyclone.

Without another thought, I launched forward, barreling up the porch steps, and burst into the cabin. A ragged gasp rushed from my lips. The couches were tossed on their side, stuffing from the decorative pillows streamed across the rug. Claw marks raked the door frame, leaving wide fissures in the wooden door that led to the only bedroom. The door hung on a hinge, deep marks slashed clean through the wood.

White hot pain lanced through my brain, sending me to my knees. I grabbed my head between my hands and gritted my teeth. My bear roared in agony. Then, like a vanishing flame, the pain was gone.

After exhaling a shaky breath, I sat back on my heels.

What the hell was that?

As I let out a mournful cry, my bear clawed ribbons into my insides—demanding we raced to our fated mate’s side. An iron tang curled from the bedroom. Blood—fresh blood.

And in that moment, I knew. Iknew.

Sasha!

Her fear and panic had channeled through my mind, flowing into me through the incomplete mating bond. With my heart in my throat, I surged forward. Images of Sasha’s broken body, her flesh torn open, overflowed my racing thoughts. I braced myself as I rushed into the room. Someone had torn apart the furniture in this part of the cabin as well. Pillows ripped and tossed, and the bed frame cracked in half. My gaze swung to the lone window at the far side of the room. I saw the window pane shattered and a shard of glass—still intact—snagged on a piece of fabric.

Relief loosened my chest as I stepped toward the window. It was a torn piece of Sasha’s shirt. She must’ve escaped through the broken window. She was still alive. The knowledge made my knees weaken. But panic soon overtook the relief. Sasha was out there with a werebear… all alone.

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