Rogue Rage

Chapter 13 (Maddock)

I stopped short, chest still heaving from the fight, blood hot in my mouth and Riven’s rage pressing against my skin. Mabel stood a few feet away, but she barely looked like the girl from the waterfall or the sharp-tongued little thing who had glared up at me beneath the watchtower. She was covered head to toe in damp, caked-on mud, the stuff drying in cracked streaks along her arms, throat, and clothes. Her hair clung in dark ropes around her face. The scent of earth smothered almost everything else, leaving only the faintest trace of female beneath it. Only her eyes and lips were clear, and those eyes were not relieved to see me. They were wary. Guarded. Not of Sam—of me.

I had been following the intruder’s scent hard through the trees, running faster than I should have, letting instinct and fury drag me forward. Samuel’s trail cut across it, sharp and familiar, and tangled with it was the faintest ghost of Mabel’s scent. That should not have been possible. The last time I saw her, she had been inside the stronghold gates. Safe. Out of this. Yet when I burst into the clearing, Samuel was already there, broad and dark in wolf form, standing like he had been waiting. Mabel’s scent clung to him, but she was nowhere in sight. Every ugly possibility hit me at once. Sam had reached her first. Sam had brought her here. Sam knew exactly where Damian’s camp was, and somehow Mabel had ended up in the middle of it.

During the fight at the stronghold, Samuel had called out the rogue, and then he went straight for Mabel like she was the nearest way out. I had thrown myself between them before his teeth could reach her, but the image had stayed with me—the rogue lunging, Mabel frozen, my own body moving before thought could catch up. So when I found Samuel here with her scent on him and no Mabel in sight, the conclusion came too easily. I thought he had taken her. I thought he meant to use her as leverage, maybe against the intruder, maybe against us. Now she stood in front of me looking small beneath all that mud, exhausted and trembling but still stubborn enough to step back from me instead of toward me. I had fought Samuel like a man defending what was his to protect, but the way she looked at me made it feel like I was the danger she had survived.

I dragged a rough hand through my hair, muscles still tight from the shift, my blood still running hot. My voice came out low and hard. “What the f**k is going on here?”

“Not here. We head back before we talk,” Sam said, stepping toward Mabel. Something dark and possessive turned over in my chest when she didn’t move away from him. Sam cut me a sideways look, like he felt it, before turning back to her. “If your arm is still hurt, I can carry you again.”

My gaze dropped to her arm, then swept over the rest of her. She held herself steady, chin lifted, pretending the mud, fear, and exhaustion had not touched her. But I knew better. Her shoulders were too rigid. Her breathing was too careful. If she had been hurt before I reached the gathering area, then she was stubborn enough to hide it from all of us.

“If you’re hurt, I’ll carry you.” The words came out more like an order than an offer. Before she could answer, Sam shifted and tore off toward our territory. I shifted after him and lowered myself, waiting for her to climb onto my back. Riven paced beneath my skin—restless, angry, confused—but beneath all of it was one clear instinct: get her home.

Mabel cleared her throat. “I’m ready.” I stayed still while she settled against me, every small shift of her weight registering through muscle and bone. Once she went still, I rose and ran. I kept my stride controlled, powerful but even, taking the rough ground without jarring her. Riven’s emotions could wait. My questions could wait. For now, the only thing that mattered was carrying her back alive.

…

I looked up the mountain. With Mabel on my back, the climb would be risky. If she slipped, I would have no way to catch her.

“I’ll be okay. I can hold on.” She sounded confident, but I still did not want to take the chance. I must have hesitated too long because her next words carried a wicked edge. “I could wrap my whole body around you if you were a man.” For one reckless second, I considered shifting just to feel her cling to me. Instead, I bit into a vine wound around a nearby tree and tore it free. I tossed one end over my shoulder and kept the other between my teeth. Mabel sighed, looped the vine around herself, then threw it over my other shoulder. Once I had both ends locked between my canines, she was at least somewhat secure. I raced up the mountain, unwilling to prolong the risk of her falling—or the vine snapping.

Sam was already waiting when we reached the top, hands buried in his pockets, his stance tense and expectant. Maybe I had not been fair to him. Katy trusted him, so I would try to understand why.

The sun shone brightly over the mountain. After I let Mabel down, I tried to shift but could not make my body obey. I needed to understand what had happened and why Mabel had been sent in, but I was having trouble returning to my human form. I tried several times before going still, my frustration sharpening into unease.

Riven…a little help here.

After a few heartbeats, I shifted back into my human form. I was more on edge than before. I had never struggled to shift—not once. It was a problem I would have to solve later. For now, I needed answers. By now, Leon would have increased security. He would expect a report, and I would have to explain Mabel’s and Samuel’s roles in the whole damn mess.

“So? Who wants to start?”