Page 41 of Howl For A Kiss
Then his enhanced hearing picked up what had woken him—footsteps crunching through snow, still distant but approaching with military precision. Multiple sets.
His wolf surged to attention, every protective instinct screaming as he counted at least eight operatives moving through the blizzard-ravaged terrain toward their hideout. The scent of metal and gunpowder carried on the wind, confirming his worst fears.
"Elena." His voice was low but urgent as he shook her shoulder gently. "We need to move. Now."
She stirred, those striking eyes with their gold rings fluttering open. For a moment, confusion clouded her features, then awareness sharpened her gaze as she registered his tension.
"What is it?"
"Human operatives. Eight of them, maybe more." Damon was already moving, his body coiled with lethal efficiency. "They're less than a quarter mile out and closing fast."
Elena shot upright, her tactical mind immediately engaged despite being jarred from sleep. She reached for her white lace bra and panties, pulling them on with quick, practiced movements. Damon couldn't help but watch the fluid grace of her motions—even in crisis, she was magnificent.
Focus, his wolf growled.Protect mate first. Admire later.
He grabbed her thermal black shirt from the pile of discarded clothes, holding it out to her. "How did they find us so quickly?"
"Thermal tracking, most likely." Elena tugged the shirt over her head, then reached for her beige cargo pants. "The human operatives have been upgrading their surveillance tech. I should have anticipated it."
Damon's jaw clenched as guilt twisted in his gut. He should have thought of that too. Should have moved them to a more secure location instead of letting his guard down completely after their night of passion. The partial bite mark on her neck caught his eye—angry red against her pale skin—and another wave of self-recrimination hit him.
He'd nearly let his wolf take complete control in the heat of their joining and claimed her fully without her explicit permission. What kind of mate did that make him?
"Stop." Elena's voice cut through his brooding as she yanked on her boots. "I can practically hear you beating yourself up. We don't have time for it."
She was right, as usual. Damon moved to help her with her tactical gear, his hands steady despite the urgency thrumming through his veins. He lifted her shoulder holster, settling the straps carefully over her shoulders and adjusting the fit with methodical precision.
"Arms up," he murmured, and she complied without question.
The trust in that simple gesture sent a possessive thrill through him. She was letting him armor her and prepare her for battle. His mate, his responsibility, his to protect.
Next came her hip holster with its familiar weight of knives. His fingers brushed against her waist as he secured the belt, and Elena's breath hitched slightly. Even now, with danger closing in, the mate bond crackled between them like lightning.
"Thigh straps," he said, kneeling to wrap the ammunition belts around her legs. He was careful around her bandaged gunshot wound, his touch gentle but efficient. The sight of that injury made his wolf snarl with protective rage.
"How's the pain?" he asked as he secured the ankle holster with her backup knife.
"Manageable." Elena's voice was steady, but he caught the slight wince as she shifted her weight. "What's the plan?"
Damon rose to his full height, every inch the dominant Beta despite his nudity. "I shift. You climb on my back again. We outrun them to Cade's compound."
"Can you handle my weight through the blizzard-ravaged terrain?"
The concern in her voice made something warm unfurl in his chest. Even facing immediate danger, she was worried about him. "I can handle anything when it comes to protecting you."
Without further hesitation, he shifted into his wolf form. The transformation rippled through him like lightning, bones reshaping and muscles expanding until his large wolf form filled the cavern. His dark brown fur with that distinctive white patch near his heart—the mark that somehow echoed Elena's pure white wolf—gleamed in the early morning sunlight.
Elena moved without hesitation, climbing onto his back with the fluid grace of someone who trusted him completely. Herthighs gripped his flanks, and her hands threaded through his thick fur, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. His mate, riding him away from danger.
Through the mate bond, he sensed her determination mingling with his own protective fury. They would survive this. He would make sure of it.
The sound of voices reached them—closer now, maybe two hundred yards out.
Time to run, Damon thought, and launched himself toward the cavern entrance into the swirling snow and wind.
His powerful wolf form cut through the blizzard with lethal grace, each stride eating up ground as Elena's thighs gripped his flanks. The mate bond pulsed between them, her trust flowing through the connection like liquid fire in his veins. This—protecting his mate in the most primal way possible—felt like his purpose now. Not Beta duties or Council obligations, but this: shielding Elena from harm with his own body.
Mine to protect. Always.
