Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves #1) - Callie Rose Page 0,12

returns full force, and I cower into the cushions, wishing I could sink right through them and disappear to the other side of the planet.

Ridge meets my eyes, a look of resignation passing through his amber irises. Then he pushes to his feet.

He’s just as big as any of the men who’ve barged into the house, if not bigger. He wears a plain white t-shirt and Wranglers, but beneath those working man clothes, he has a body like I’ve never seen before: lean, muscular, broad shoulders and powerful legs. His ash-brown hair has a messy, unbrushed look that happens accidentally, and the close-cut beard gracing his jaw only heightens the scruffy wildness of his appearance.

He turns to face the newcomers, his boots shoulder-width apart and his hands dangling at his sides as he addresses the crowd. “Lawson. You ever heard of fuckin’ knocking?”

Something about his pose tells me he’s not casual—Ridge looks as if he could jerk into motion at any moment and put his fist through the big guy’s face.

Lawson, the apparent leader of the group, puffs up his chest, his scowl deepening. “You brought an outsider into our village.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” another guy snaps. His question raises a rumble of agreement from the others.

“The pack wants answers.” Lawson opens his palms up as if to indicate the mob behind him. He’s a little taller than Ridge, but he doesn’t take up the room with just his presence like Ridge does. I have a feeling this guy is all show.

The thought doesn’t really help me breathe past the looming panic attack though. He’s still massive, with fists like ham hocks and an expression so full of loathing, I can’t tell if he wants to get rid of me or Ridge. Possibly both.

“We’re already facing a threat from the witches!” the only woman in the group snaps, raising her voice over the dull roar of the crowd. She’s tall and formidable, muscles rippling in her golden brown arms. “And you drag this fucking carcass into our pack? You don’t know that she isn’t one of those wolf-hating assholes!”

I can’t keep up with what they’re saying. Panic has turned my heart into a fluttering bird in my chest, and their faces and voices are starting to blur together.

The pack? Witches? Wolf-hating?

None of this makes sense, and it’s only exacerbating the fear I’d barely gotten past before they arrived. My panic is clawing its way back full force, stronger than it was before.

I try to hold it in, to control it and contain it. Ridge doesn’t have any plans to hurt me—I’m sure of it. I saw something in his mesmerizing amber eyes before the mob arrived, a kind of protective warmth that barely made sense at the time. We don’t know each other, but he wants to help me.

I believe him.

But voices are rising in anger. Six large people shouting at Ridge about putting the pack in danger, and Ridge facing them down with a stoic, expressionless face and low tones. He looks formidable, more dangerous than any of them could ever hope to be. But it’s still six on one, and I don’t want to be hurt anymore. I don’t want anyone to be hurt.

I can’t take more fucking violence. More anger.

My chest feels like it’s being squeezed by a massive rubber band. I can’t breathe.

As they continue screaming, I clutch at the couch cushions, trying not to fall into the panic attack I know is coming.

Everything that’s happened to me in the last twenty-four hours is catching up to me—the fall down the stairs, seeing Doctor Patil, escaping my uncle, plunging into the ravine, waking up here in this strange cabin, and now this, these raised voices and the obvious animosity dangling in the air between my rescuer and Lawson.

What if Ridge isn’t a nice guy? What if this is all a ruse by my uncle to hurt me? What if these people are going to tear me apart and scatter my pieces in the mountains?

My breaths come faster, ever more painful as I gasp for air. My gaze darts between the people yelling and back to Ridge. I want him to make them go away. I want a chance to catch my breath, to figure out what the hell is going on.

Instead, I feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack. My body is going to murder me before Clint or anyone else gets the chance.

Tensions soar higher, voices growing deeper and angrier,