“I’m at the end of your street.”
“I’ll let you in, but let me make one thing clear. This is only so you can tell me more. I haven’t forgiven you,” she stated, not just for his benefit. A part of her missed him so much. Wanted to understand because the Ulric she knew didn’t jive with the one she’d met once she announced her pregnancy.
The Ulric she knew would have done backflips and insisted on carrying her around and holding her hair while she puked. The fact he reacted so strongly made her wonder if he’d been traumatized somehow in his past.
“I’ll be a gentleman, I swear. I just want a chance to make things right.”
“We’ll see about that,” she mumbled heading for the stairs to the main floor.
Thump. She paused mid-step and listened. Then said very softly, “Are you coming in through the back door?”
“No. Why?”
“I think someone’s here. For real this time,” she hissed as she heard a creak.
“Get your ass back in that closet. I’m almost there.”
“The front door is locked,” she stated, eyeing the remaining steps and the deadbolt.
“Don’t you dare,” he warned.
“I’m doing it,” she huffed before leaping into action, pounding down the last few steps, throwing herself at the lock.
She never made it. Someone grabbed her hair and yanked. She shrieked.
Would have sworn she heard a dog howl.
She grabbed at the hands tangled in her hair, twisting and kicking. Whoever had a grip proved strong.
“Let go!” she demanded.
Instead, they punched her. The solid blow rocked her. She fell to her knees and wavered, blinking, her vision blurry. She heard the slam of her door forcefully opened and hitting the wall.
Then a seriously low growl like an animal. As she swayed to the side and hit the wall, she half turned to see Ulric had arrived. A hulking angry hunk of male who appeared rather feral as he stalked to her large assailant.
And she meant big.
The person who’d broken in and attacked her had his hair shaved short, a scar over his eye, and a sneer, and he had a few inches on Ulric. Not that it stopped her Viking. Possessed of a berserker rage, he went after the guy, ramming into his midsection and driving them hard into her kitchen island. Things rattled. Blows landed. She could hear the struggle going on while she sat on the floor. She struggled to fight the wooziness in her head and gain her feet.
The grunting and banging of a fight spurred her to stagger in the direction of her kitchen. Ulric. She had to help him. Entering, the first thing she saw was Ulric, his back to her facing—
She blinked. And blinked again. The wolf she hallucinated remained in her kitchen, snarling at Ulric. A dark beast with a scar over his eye, much like her attacker.
The two of them fought, the wolf snapping its jaws at Ulric while he tried to hold those teeth away from his flesh. It made no sense.
I think I have a concussion. She collapsed onto the floor, closing her eyes against the spinning and improbability of a wolf in her kitchen. She turned into a boneless heap with her cheek pillowed on the floor, eyes opening and closing slowly, giving her snapshots of the fight.
Ulric wrestling with the wolf.
The wolf biting his arm hard enough blood flowed.
Ulric baring his teeth and biting back!
Then his arms wrapped around the wolf’s neck, and he hugged it tight before dropping to the floor.
Crack.
The wolf went limp.
He dropped the furry body and stood.
A true Viking, spattered in blood, who murmured, “You’re safe, Bee.”
She closed her eyes.
13
The wolf didn’t move after Ulric snapped its neck. The limp body hit the floor, forever furry since he didn’t change before death. A safety feature that helped keep their existence hidden.
Ulric rose to his feet as his gaze swung to find Honey. She lay slumped over on the floor. Fainted from shock, or had she succumbed to an injury given the rapidly blossoming bruise on her face?
“Fuck me.” This was his fault. He’d arrived too late. Jogging when he should have been sprinting the second she called. He’d gotten caught up in the moment of connection. He’d had time to regret some of the things he’d said. He’d talked it over with Brandy, his closest female friend, and she’d pointed out some obvious facts he’d somehow missed.
For one, no man should ever tell a woman he impregnated to get an abortion unless he wanted to become a eunuch. As Brandy reminded him while poking him in the chest, “Her body, her choice.”
“What if that choice kills her?” he’d argued.
“Which leads us to the second dumb thing you did. Telling her the pregnancy had to end because otherwise she’d die. What the hell is wrong with you?” Brandy had yelled. “That poor woman. She was probably all excited and a little bit scared to tell you—”
“She was,” he murmured, remembering the shining uncertainty in her gaze.
“And you just wham, bam, slam her down not once but twice. You doubled down on being a douchebag.”
The wince wasn’t just because of Brandy’s next slap. And before anyone thought she abused him, he’d been tickled harder in his life. He also deserved worse.
He’d acted abominably with Honey. Not putting himself in her position. She didn’t know of Ulric’s wolf heritage. Without that knowledge, he would have come across as cold and uncaring.
He hit the floor on his knees beside her. “Oh, Honey, I’m sorry.” For everything.
This close he had no trouble discerning the steady pulse in her neck or the soft huffs of her breath. He didn’t smell blood, but she could have internal injuries he didn’t see. The bruise blossoming on her face had gotten dark quick.
While he wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and run—because a wolf in her house could only mean she’d been targeted—at the same time, the security specialist within kicked in. He had to secure the scene. Report what happened. Request backup and medical aid. The kind that wouldn’t leave a trail for humans.
As he headed for the front door, he pulled out his phone and put out a general message to the Pack on their encrypted forum. Even then, he worded his request carefully.
A dog got into Honey’s yard. Anyone wanna give me a hand corralling it? He hit Send as he reached the door. He shut and locked it without checking to see if anyone watched. At nine o’clock at night, though, they stood a good chance of being fine. Even if they weren’t, too late to change anything now. He’d listen for wailing sirens.
He headed for the kitchen and called Griffin.
His boss answered. “What’s going on? I just read the text.” Griffin would have ensured the line was scrambled even before answering. Declan had them all outfitted with the latest tech, but that didn’t mean Ulric fully trusted it. Not too long ago, they’d had a spy listening in on them.
“Glad you’re up. I need a hand with a rabid dog.” Code for “Lycan situation.”
“What makes you think it’s rabid?”
“No moon and yet I could swear I see crazy in its eyes.”
Griffin sucked in a breath as he caught the message: A wolf shifted without the moon and attacked. “Is Honey okay?”