Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Jackson glanced her way, but his eyes immediately flicked back to the road. Tension filled the cab, thick and unyielding. The heat from the vents did little to ease the chill coiling down her spine.
“How ill are you?” he asked finally. His voice was steady, but the strain beneath it was unmistakable.
She hesitated, her gaze shifting to the snow-laden forest flashing past the windows. The trees stood tall and dark against the storm, their outlines blurred by wind-driven snow. The route made no sense.
“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly.
“Did the doctor talk to you?”
“Yes.”
Jackson’s hands tightened on the wheel. “What did she say?”
Her pulse jumped. “It’s…a little embarrassing.”
One eyebrow lifted, sharp and impatient. “Embarrassing is fine. Deadly is not.”
She leaned closer to the heat, rubbing her hands together as if that could chase away the tension clamping her ribs. “It’s kind of both,” she muttered.
“Explain. Now.” There was no mistaking the iron in his voice. His patience had worn thin, and she doubted there was much holding it together.
She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself as the truck’s tires hummed against the snow-covered road. “Fine,” she said. The words scraped her throat as she launched into the story.
He stayed silent the entire time she spoke, his expression unreadable.
Finally, she wound down.
“So mating will save you?” he finally asked.
She gulped. “There’s no guarantee.”
The tires gripped the icy road until he stopped outside a barely visible stone building, partially hidden by the surrounding trees.
Emily craned her neck, taking in the structure’s rough-hewn walls and heavy wooden door. “Where are we?”
“This is a secret,” Jackson said. Snow whipped past his shoulders as he opened his door. “Only the Alphas of the Stope Packs Coalition know it exists. We’ll wait out the storm here.”
Before she could protest, he reached across and hauled her out of the truck by her arms, muscles flexing beneath his coat as he tossed her over his shoulder. Wind and snow hit her as he strode toward the entrance.
“Still mad, huh?” she muttered, holding on to the back of his coat.
He kicked the door open, stepped inside, then set her on her feet. The warmth from the room hit her instantly. The air smelled faintly of wood smoke and pine.
Jackson crouched by the fireplace, expertly stacking wood before striking a match. Flames roared to life, throwing golden light across the stone walls and the dark wood floor.
Emily rubbed her hands together and glanced around. Her gaze snagged on the massive table to the side. Copper, slate, granite, and silver swirled in an intricate design across the polished surface. She stepped closer, tracing the cool metal with her fingers. “This is incredible,” she murmured.
“It’s centuries old,” Jackson said without looking up. When he did, the firelight highlighted the hard planes of his face.
“I’m sorry about your truck,” she offered.
“You think I care about my truck?” He stood and closed the distance between them in two steps. Heat radiated from his body, his eyes locked on hers.
“Well…maybe it was a little foolish,” she muttered, shifting her weight. The small space didn’t seem to have a bedroom or even a sofa. “What now?” she murmured.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Now, we mate.”
Chapter 31
Fury churned through Jackson, hot and sharp, as he stared at the graceful wolf. What the hell had she been thinking, putting herself in danger like that? His pulse pounded in his ears. He could finally take what he wanted. What he’d needed since the first time he laid eyes on her. “You want to live?” he asked, his voice rough.
Emily squared her shoulders, her hands settling on her hips. At least she had enough sense to dress for the weather in jeans, a thick sweater, and a coat that clung to her frame. Her boots were lined with fur—thanks to Raya, no doubt.
“Of course, I want to live,” Em said evenly. “But I’m not going to mate you just to survive.”
“Oh, yeah?” Her scent permeated the air, close enough to fill him. “Baby, I’m not giving you a choice.”
“Of course, you are.” Her eyes flashed with defiance. “I know you better than that, Jackson. You’re not the type of male who forces anyone into anything.”
The fact that she was right just pissed him off. “Were you running from me?” he asked mildly.
She blinked. “No.”
His chin lowered. “What did you think would happen once I learned the truth? That mating me might save you?”
She put her hands on her hips, all defiant female. “I won’t use you like that.”
Something dark and primal ran through him. “Use me?”
“Yes. I’m not into some pity mating, either.”
She was scared. He could sense it. Taste it. Of him? Or of herself?
“Em,” he said, his voice low, rough. “You could’ve died in that wreck out there. Or frozen to death. What the hell was going through your head?”