Midnight Lies (Shifter Island #2) - Raye Wagner Page 0,17

out into the forest, I saw three—no, four more wolves coming in from different angles toward us.

‘Our advantage will be stronger if we’re fighting them with our magic, not our teeth,’ I told him.

My wolf agreed with my logic and receded so rapidly that I blinked, and then I was staring at the ground on my hands and knees. My chin dropped, and I looked down at my boobs.

Oh. My. Mage.

I was butt naked. Literally, not a single scrap of my clothing remained. The chilly morning air made my skin prickle, and I slapped one arm over my breasts and the other hand over my hoo-ha as I stood. Being naked in front of packmates occasionally happened—no big deal. But in front of strangers? In front of my mate who hadn’t seen me naked yet? No bueno.

“Wow,” Rage said, his voice husky and low. I snuck a glance at him, my gaze dropping to his lower region, only to find he’d magically retained all of his clothing. Something I’d forgotten he could do.

“Shut up!” I whirled away from him but then thought better of it since my hands were otherwise occupied. No matter which way I turned, he’d get an eyeful. “We have seconds before we’re attacked—”

Something smacked me in the face, and I squealed, swatting at it—until I touched the cotton fabric.

At the same time as my impromptu dance, Rage bellowed, “Put on my shirt.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, pulling the filthy garment over my head. The fabric was still damp with his blood, and it stuck to my skin, making me cringe, but it was better than nothing. Maybe.

Five wolves entered the clearing then, their hackles raised. The biggest of them had fur the color of molasses; the other four ranged in colors from pale honey to gray.

I was 98.4% sure these guys weren’t the welcome wagon.

“Stop!” Rage bellowed at the wolves. He sucked in a deep breath, and a sphere of fire appeared in his hands. “One more step, and I’ll turn your entire pack to nothing but ash.”

Badass.

My wolf practically purred with admiration for our mate.

But one look at the dry underbrush sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

“If you throw that,” a man said, rising from his crouched position where he’d been a wolf a half-breath ago, “you’ll burn this whole chunk of the magic lands, Alpha Heir, and I don’t think you want that.”

Okay … human was good. Human meant we might be able to talk to this dude.

I grabbed Rage’s wrist. ‘He’s right. This place is a tinderbox.’

‘Intimidation wins what percent of fights, Nai?’ Rage said in response. Even mentally, his voice was laced with frustration.

I stepped away from him and muttered, “Ninety-seven point nine percent.”

“What?” the stranger man asked, turning his attention to me.

I studied the stranger, and my gaze flicked to his forehead. His messy hair covered most of his brow, but … was that an alpha heir mark?

No … it couldn’t be.

“Are you okay, miss?” the man asked, stepping toward me. “Is this guy—?”

“I’m fine.” Humiliation stained my cheeks because I’d said my percentages out loud. Hunger was taking a toll.

“I’m her mate,” Rage snarled, stepping between me and the other man. “And we’re just passing through. We don’t want any trouble, but if you won’t let us go, we’ll fight.”

Obviously, the guy wasn’t out for blood or he would’ve never shifted into his human form.

“John,” a woman said, appearing fully clothed where one of the wolves had just been. Wavy blond hair fell past her shoulders, and her blue eyes were lined with what my father called crow’s feet. She offered me a soft smile and then rolled her eyes toward John before taking her place at his side. “They aren’t guards from the alpha king.”

She unbuttoned her coat and stepped toward me, holding out the thick garment. “Go ahead,” she coaxed. “I can see you’re cold.”

I snorted with self-deprecation. Pretty sure everyone could see I was cold.

“Thank you,” I murmured, stepping past Rage to take the coat. I slid my arms in, and my shoulders sagged with relief as warmth swallowed me. I buttoned up the front of the jacket and then pushed Rage’s hands down. ‘Don’t you dare strike after that kindness.’

“Sara, you don’t know them,” the man named John groaned. “He’s a Midnight Pack heir.” He pointed to Rage’s forehead.

And at the same time, Rage responded in my head, ‘You don’t know if that’s a ploy—’

“I can see that, darling,” Sara said. “But they’re running away from