It wasn’t until she’d stepped into that logging truck that I’d realized she’s my fated mate. The beast had howled forlornly, already understanding who she was. He’d begun understanding it when he caught her scent—right before he’d almost torn her throat out in the back of the stolen car.
It’s why he’d stopped.
I rake a hand through my hair. Fucking hell. Who would have thought I would meet my mate like this?
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She’s supposed to want me too. We’re supposed to fall for each other so hard and fast that nothing else matters. We should want to be together every second of every day to rut and fuck and lick and bite and taste. The first few months of a new mating are animalistic in every sense of the word. If she were a wolf in my pack, and we were back home, the other wolves would chuckle and give us room. We’d be left alone until we came out of the honeymoon period that all new mates experience.
But nothing about this is normal.
My wolf is psychotic. I’ve gone rogue. She’s human. And my pack is nowhere to be found.
It doesn’t help that Brianna’s staring at me like I’m the plague. As though I’ll infect her if I get a millimeter closer.
It’s not exactly what most females feel around their destined wolf.
What did you think would happen, Ward? You tried to kill her this morning after breakfast.
“Collin, we have to go to the police.”
Her statement has me tensing. Her gaze dips again. She’s eyeing my dick for the second time. Right. I’m still naked. I grab the backpack and find a pair of shorts. She averts her eyes when I pull them on. I then soak a rag using the water bottle and wipe the blood off me.
When I do that, she says in a rush, “I didn’t want to go to the police, but now we have to. There’s no way we can cover this up.” She gestures toward the body.
“No police,” I say firmly.
Once dressed and free of blood, I cram the bloody rag back in the pack, then survey the carnage. I make sure to keep a wide berth from Brianna even though the sour stench has left her scent. She’s no longer afraid of me. At least, not at the moment.
My lip curls when I peer down at what’s left of the guy the beast killed. The asshole who attacked her is bones and bloody flesh now. His face is gone. The beast took care of that. The dickwad will have to be identified by dental records—if there’s any teeth left in that bloody mess—because by the time he’s found, his fingerprints will probably be too decayed for identification.
I place my hands on my hips. “They’ll think it was an animal attack. They won’t know I killed him. We’re leaving him here.”
“An animal attack? Collin, you can’t be serious! We can’t leave him here!”
I swing back around, and my hands ball into fists. Just the thought of what he wanted to do to her makes my blood boil, and she’s wanting to do what’s best for him?
“And why can’t we leave him here?” I counter. “He doesn’t deserve any better.”
Fire returns to her eyes. I’m coming to admire that fire so much. She pushes to a stand and takes a step toward me. “He deserves a proper burial even if he was a mean drunk.”
I move closer until we’re toe to toe. She doesn’t retreat. “A mean drunk? Is that all you think he was? Do you know what he wanted to do to you?”
Her eyebrows draw together, and she gnashes her teeth.
“I think you know, Brianna. He was going to rape you. I could smell it on him. His excitement grew when he got you beneath him. He became aroused. Did you know that?”
She swallows but doesn’t reply.
She knows. She just doesn’t want to accept what almost happened—what could have happened.
“He would have raped you.” My fists are so tight now it feels as though my forearm muscles are going to jump right through my skin. “So if you think I’m going to call the cops and turn myself in, all so dipshit here can go home to granny for a proper burial, you’re wrong. He’s staying here. The coyotes can finish what I started.” My tone is cold, and I know I’m showing her a side of myself that I’m not