Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves #1) - Callie Rose Page 0,64

breaks the mountain silence, and I jump, toppling off the counter in my shock. I’ve heard gunfire before, back when Clint and his friends would drink too much and go out to shoot Coke bottles in the yard, and I’m almost positive that’s what just came from behind the cabin.

My heart seizes in my chest.

Ridge.

A wave of fear and adrenaline like I’ve never known surges through me, so powerful it feels like I got struck by lightning.

Not Ridge. No.

Nothing can happen to the large, serious man who’s my protector, my savior, since the very first moment I met him. It can’t. I won’t let it.

I reach for the biggest of the two knives with trembling fingers, my heart racing as though it’s trying to beat a hole in my sternum. Who knows how much good it will do. It’s not like a knife could do any good in a gunfight, but the weight of it in my hand steadies my nerves.

Could the witches have found us?

Maybe that sound wasn’t a gunshot at all, but the sound of something magical, some kind of spell that knocked him out.

Or killed him, the terrified part of my mind suggests darkly.

My knife won’t do any good against magic either.

In this moment, that hardly matters though. The thought of Ridge out there, alone and in trouble, is enough to send me darting toward the back door, spurred on by the primal need to keep him safe.

I’m halfway down the hall when the door swings open. But instead of Ridge, another familiar face appears in my vision as a man strides inside, blasting apart the safety and comfort of this cabin.

Uncle Clint.

“Found you, you little shit,” he snarls, then stalks toward me.

Everything inside me screams at me to react, but terror has turned me to ice. For a second, it’s as if the past two weeks never happened. It’s as if I never stepped foot outside of Uncle Clint’s truck that night, never dared to step out of line.

For a second, I’m nothing but the scared little girl he beat and abused for years just because he could.

It’s my fear for Ridge that brings me back from that place. Fear for the man I’ve come to care for that reminds me these two weeks did happen—that I’m not the same girl I was.

As Clint nears me, I lash out with the knife, slicing wildly toward him. My movement is jerky, but I don’t think he was expecting it, because I manage to catch the edge of his arm with the tip of the blade. The sharp knife tears through his flannel shirt before biting into skin, and he hisses in pain, jerking back.

An ugly look crosses his face, and he charges forward, blood dripping from the gash in his arm.

Before I can slash again, he grabs me by the arm, his fingers hard and bruising, and bats the knife away from my hand with his gun. Sharp pain cracks across my knuckles as the gun makes contact, and my only means of protecting myself skitters away over the kitchen floor, little droplets of blood flying from the blade.

“You little cunt. Thought you got all tough out here in the fuckin’ woods, huh? Did your boyfriend teach you that?” he snarls.

However deep I managed to cut his arm, it clearly wasn’t deep enough. His grip is strong as he hauls me into a headlock, pinning my back to his chest. Then he drags me toward the door, the barrel of the gun pressed to my temple.

I’ve lost the ability to move my feet, and I collapse against his grip on my arm, my legs dragging uselessly on the floor. This is the culmination of every nightmare I’ve had since running away from him, the thing I told myself would never happen. Could never happen.

Maybe I should’ve known better.

I hold out hope that Ridge is outside, that Clint didn’t shoot him dead, and when we emerge, he’ll be waiting to tear my uncle’s throat out.

But that hope is ripped to shreds when Clint drags me out over the cool grass and into the night—past Ridge’s limp, still body.

27

Trystan

I never thought I’d enjoy hunting with shifters outside my pack, but these dumb fucks actually make it enjoyable.

I’ve known Archer for most of my life, though not in any kind of familiar context. Just as that dude who’s dad is the dying alpha of the East Pack and who probably isn’t strong enough to take the mantle when the old