Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,71

inside him, Drake twitched, moved his feet beneath him, and stood beside her. Fury emanated from his body in hot surges, rippling on the air. The weakness Emelia had felt before was gone. In its place was barely controlled rage bubbling beneath the surface, ready to explode.

Through the haze of what was happening—the sensory overload stemming from her transition, Drake’s anger, the rumble coming from Silas’s chest—streaks of pride tinseled through Emelia’s system. It felt good. Vibrant. It felt…right.

Drake marched forward, one slow paw hitting the hardwood, blood trickling down his legs. Emelia followed, feeling Drake’s unbridled fury as her own. Step by step they closed in on Silas.

They created a united front. Stronger together. Never to be separated again.

As Drake growled, vibrating the floor beneath their feet, Silas’s shoulders gave a hard twitch. His muzzle quirked and his gaze shifted to the door as a horde of howling packmates burst through, ripping it off its hinges. They corned Silas, bumped into him with their massive chests, and brought him to his belly with brute force.

Reinforcements had arrived.

Mr. Bloomfield strode through the door in their wake, dressed in a suit and tie as if he’d stepped from a board meeting into the fray. “Silas Wilder, you’re under arrest for attempting to murder Drake Wilder, Alpha to the Seattle wolf pack, and Emelia Wilder, his mated female.”

Silas whimpered against the ground as the wolves towered over him smashed him into the floor. There was nothing Silas could do. There were too many packmates, and they moved like an angry mob, swallowing everything in their wake.

So this was the pack family that Drake had told her about. They really did stand up for one another, didn’t they? She’d never felt more relieved, or more protected, in all her life.

As Mr. Bloomfield and the packmates escorted Silas out the broken door, Drake crumbled. It’d been too much. He’d challenged Silas and fought at Emelia’s side when he didn’t have the strength to do either.

Emelia knelt over Drake and nudged him with her nose. Sighing into a full body shudder, Drake opened his eyes. They were soft black, warm and tender, piercing Emelia’s heart. He shifted back to human form. Right beneath her legs. Naked and shivering, Drake reached up and brushed his hand down the slope of her face. Even through her fur, she could feel the pads on his fingers, the warmth of his palm, and the love behind his touch.

“Hello beautiful,” Drake said, smiling. His wounds healed right before her eyes. His skin went from bloody to pink, his tissue from marred to bronze, sculpted muscle. “You’re magnificent, though I didn’t doubt you’d be amazing in this form, too.”

Emelia nudged his palm, letting a little whimper escape her chest. How did she shift back? Would she be stuck this way for the length of the full moon?

“An ambulance is on the way,” Mr. Bloomfield said from the doorway. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

Drake stroked Emelia’s nose, and scrubbed the fur behind her ears. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Mr. Bloomfield left the bar as sirens wailed in the distance.

“I never thought I’d get to see you again.” Drake stroked Emelia’s fur, her chest. She could sense his strength returning each passing second. “I’m so sorry about what happened between us. I was beyond stupid. I should’ve never bought that bar behind your back and I should’ve supported you in this. That was wrong, so wrong. I should have followed you out that door.”

No, she shouldn’t have left in the first place.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “None of the blame is yours.”

He could read her thoughts! She wasn’t sure how or why the concept came easier to her now—perhaps it was because now that she’d shifted she could easily see herself as a part of his pack. Whatever the reason, Emelia’s chest warmed. She’d done it. She’d shifted. And everything was going to be okay.

“I was wrong to try to convince you to get rid of this place,” he said. “It’s a part of you…you love it…which means I love it, too.”

Emelia’s heart overflowed, melting with joy. She’d thought that giving up the Knight Owl meant that she would be giving up her dream, her independence, and a little part of herself in the process. She’d always been the queen of overreaction and had blown things way out of proportion. To top off her ridiculousness, she’d fallen for a businessman…and had gotten