in her pocket for ammo and reloaded the revolver, happy to buy herself a moment of mental preparation for what she was about to do. Tucking the gun into her jeans yet again, Katie wiped her palms on her shirt and carefully stuck her feet through the opening in the ceiling. She waited to see if anything reacted to her movement, then—when all remained quiet—she turned and got on her knees so she could try and lower her body through the hatch without releasing her iron grip on the edge. It wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. She was halfway down, stomach pressed tightly against the edge of the opening, when a rustling sound, then a low growl, set her adrenaline racing.
Afraid to take any more time—and aware that the only way she could easily go was down—she slipped off the edge and swung wildly for a moment before letting go. As predicted, she landed awkwardly, one foot on the dead man’s thigh and the other on the barrel of the shotgun. Her ankle rolled and she fell hard on her ass just as a dark shape sailed over her head. Without conscious thought, she grabbed the shotgun, swiveled it around, and blasted the scrappy wolf who had already turned to charge her again. The impact threw him backwards against the wall, and he slumped over, suddenly a very dead man.
Katie stood up, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through her ankle. She’d sprained it in the very least, which was scary as hell. She still had hours left to go. From here on out, she had to try and avoid further injury. That meant not taking unnecessary risks. Chastising herself for her carelessness, she limped to the kitchen with the shotgun held out in front of her chest.
Shilah lie motionless under the kitchen table. A streak of red across the wooden floor made it clear that he’d crawled there after the fight ended, either to seek safety or die alone. He wasn’t dead, but his wounds seemed serious. Far more serious than she felt capable of treating.
“No,” Katie whispered. She sank her fingers into a clean patch of fur on Shilah’s neck, eyes glued to the blood that oozed from several deep lacerations on his chest, sides, and face. His back leg was mangled and hung limply from his body in a way that chilled her to the bone. Despite his battered state, his eyes were open and alert, and he gazed at her with so much loyalty and trust that Katie’s composure shattered and she burst into tears. “Shilah, you’re okay. You’ve got to be okay.”
His tail thumped weakly against the floor, reassuring her that even if he was down, he wasn’t ready to give up. She wasn’t, either.
Drawing a breath, Katie got to her feet and took stock of the situation. Cold air filtered in from a window at the far side of the den, where the boards Rafe had nailed down had been smashed to pieces. She decided her first priority had to be blocking off the opening. She couldn’t concentrate on caring for Shilah until the cabin was secure. With that in mind, she limped to the large oak bookcase that sat against the wall next to the window, propped the shotgun on the floor at her side, then used both hands to sweep books off the shelves and onto the floor.
Afraid that she was making too much noise but unsure what else to do, Katie kept one eye on the window as she emptied the bookcase. She fully expected another group of wolves to burst through at any second, but although she could clearly hear the fighting continue to rage out front, there was no sign of movement in the jagged slice of outdoors she could see through the hole the intruders had left. Once the bookcase was clear, Katie planted her hands on the side and shoved with all her might.
She managed to move the heavy piece of furniture a couple of inches before she had to rest. The scuffle in the attic and her fall from the hatch had definitely taken a toll. Her ankle throbbed and it was difficult to catch her breath—from exertion or panic, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she would give anything for Rafe’s strength right then. She closed her eyes briefly, reaching out with her mind to try and latch onto their connection. She was certain he was still alive, if only because