Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

JOE

K nowing he would be naked in the storm, Joe shifted. There was no other way to convey what he needed her to know.

"I need to go back and slow them down. I need you to go up into the woods, burrow into the snow and stay there until I come for you or until you are certain they've left." A swirling mist started to form around Melinda. "No. You stay in your Arctic fox form." The mist faded away and she looked at him with dark eyes. "I'm leaving the flash drive with you. You're right; it has to get to the right people. If I don't return, you get to Mystic River or Otter Cove. Both are communities of shifters. The sheriff of either town, Zak Grayson or Jackson Miller, will get you and the data to the right people. If you can't get to them, use the satellite phone and hit speed dial one. That'll get you to Ash Wells—he's the head of the park rangers."

Melinda shook her head. They both looked towards the cabin and could see the snowmobiles coming. He would not fail her. She might be reluctant to go alone, but she would see it through.

"You need to take the flash drive and satellite phone. Stay in your fox form until you get to Ash, Jax or Zak. There's so much I want to say, and I will, but if I don't, just know you are doing the right thing, and I want you to live an amazing life. Promise me."

Melinda nodded.

"Go. Get that data to the authorities, no matter what," he said, reaching under her head to stroke her throat and chin. "Go. Burrow under the snow and stay safe."

She turned and bounded away, stopping to watch him as he shifted back to his sabretooth tiger form. It was none too soon as he was beginning to get hypothermic and some of his dangly parts might not ever be the same. He shook his head. He was most likely about to die, and all he could think about was that if he didn't shift, his parts might not work again.

Turning on his haunches, Joe crept to the edge of the forest. He crouched behind a snow-covered boulder, waiting. Joe's breath formed clouds in the icy air as he watched the snowmobiles coming closer. His heightened senses picked up only the faint scent of human presence, so perhaps, they wouldn't be expecting a sabretooth tiger to attack. His muscles tensed beneath his thick fur. The low hum of the snowmobiles was becoming louder. His sense of smell confirmed his suspicion—humans were approaching, and they were closing the distance between him and his fated mate fast.

He had to believe she would be safe and would live on without him. He would not fail her, not as he had his brothers in Afghanistan.

The snowmobiles roared into view, four of them, each carrying two heavily armed men dressed in white camouflage. Joe's sharp eyes caught the glint of rifles. They were searching, hunting for them. He had the element of surprise—both for his plan to attack them and the fact that he was sabretooth.

Joe's pulse quickened. He had been hunted before, but never so brazenly. He scanned the area, formulating a plan. The men split into pairs, circling the perimeter of the forest. Joe saw his chance.

Silently, he stalked them, moving from behind one boulder to another as they moved away from the others. His powerful legs coiled like springs, he leapt onto the nearest snowmobile as it passed by, toppling the driver. The vehicle skidded and crashed into a tree at full speed, the rider thrown clear. The driver was most likely dead. The armed rider was thrown into a snowbank. Joe charged him, using his massive paw to swipe at the man's chest, his claws raking through the man's coat and opening up his abdomen in a mortal wound.

The other snowmobiles veered sharply, circling back towards him, their riders raising their rifles. Joe growled, a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the trees. He roared and charged the next snowmobile, zigzagging to avoid the gunfire. Bullets whizzed past him, but his agility and speed kept him out of harm's way.

With a mighty leap, he landed on the second snowmobile, his weight causing it to tip. The driver and rider tumbled off, scrambling for their weapons. Joe didn't give them a chance. His jaws clamped down on the rider's arm, biting through it. The man screamed, and Joe grabbed the rifle, snapping it in two. The driver got up, clearly disoriented. Joe swatted him aside, sending him crashing into a tree, which he hit with a sickening thud.

The remaining two snowmobiles sped away, their drivers now desperate. Joe's lips curled into a feral grin. He bounded after them, his powerful strides easily keeping pace. The men glanced back, panic evident in their eyes. One lost control, the snowmobile flipping over, throwing both men into a snowdrift.

Joe slowed as he approached the last snowmobile. Both the rider and driver, realizing the snowmobile offered them no chance at escape, abandoned the vehicle and ran. Joe roared. The driver froze, turning slowly to face him. His face was pale, eyes wide with fear. Joe advanced, each step deliberate.

The man stammered, "We were hired to find her, and when we saw you, we knew there are some rich collector who would pay a fortune for an arctic sabretooth."

Joe's eyes narrowed. He had heard of such collectors, men with more money than sense, eager to add mythical creatures to their private menageries. Joe bared his teeth, growling low.

"I'll tell him we couldn't find you. I'll leave this place and never return. Please don't kill me." The man's eyes widened, and he pointed to a space behind Joe. "Look out."

Joe could sense the rider of the last snowmobile coming up behind him. He had to have slithered up on his belly, setting the bipod to steady his rifle and take aim. It was as if time had slowed to the point he could see the rider begin to squeeze the trigger.

The shrill scream of an Arctic fox sounded from behind and to the right of the sniper. Melinda bounded toward him, jumping and grabbing him by the throat and ripping it open, the man's death scream drowning in blood as it bubbled out.

Whirling back around, he watched as the only man who had survived the snowmobile attack fled back across the meadow. Joe watched him disappear into the snowy landscape before turning to Melinda and growling, low and ominously. Melinda had moved away from the dead man and was sitting in the snow, meticulously cleaning her paws and face. He growled again, and she yawned. Cheeky brat . Joe snarled at her and turned back to the cabin. They ought to have enough time to go back to the cabin and get the survival gear they would need to get them to safety.

Melinda trotted up beside him and then banged into him before taking off to run back to the cabin. Catching up to her, he swatted her flank with his paw, not to harm, but to get her attention and make her fall in either at his side or behind him. She did not need to be running off ahead of him. Just because they'd won the first skirmish without injury to either of them didn't mean they'd won the war, so to speak. She needed to learn to follow his lead.

As he sent her sprawling, Melinda yipped, rolled in the snow and came back to snarl and snap at him. Not only cheeky, but brave. Not many creatures would snarl at a sabretooth tiger, especially one whose adrenaline was running after a fight. But, he supposed, hers was running too, and she had, most likely, saved his life.

Joe's paws crunched through the snow as he led the way back to the cabin, his senses on high alert despite the apparent safety of their retreat. Melinda followed closely, her lithe form moving gracefully through the thick snow. As they entered the cabin, Joe shifted back into his human form, shaking off the last remnants of his sabretooth self. Melinda did the same, reaching for a blanket with which to cover herself, her features softening, though her eyes still sparkled with the intensity of their recent encounter.

Once inside the cabin, Joe pulled on the jeans he had hastily discarded and busied himself with stoking the fire. Unless he could find survival equipment among the supplies in the cabin, this might well be the last chance they had to get warm. The cabin began to warm up and was dimly lit, the fireplace casting a flickering glow on the wooden walls.

Joe turned to Melinda, his jaw set in a hard line. "What the hell were you thinking out there?" he growled, his voice low but laced with fury. "I told you to burrow under the snow and wait!"

Melinda's eyes narrowed, matching his intensity. "I have no desire to be your or anyone else's damsel in distress," she snapped. "Did you miss the part where if I'd done what you told me you would have been wounded—or worse? You can't protect me by putting yourself in unnecessary danger."

Joe's fists clenched at his sides. She had a point, but there was no way he was going to let her put herself in danger. "I'm the one in charge here, Melinda. You have to follow my orders for a reason. I can't afford to have you getting in the way."

"In the way? In the way? You arrogant bastard," she shot back, stepping closer, her chin jutting defiantly. She definitely had no fear of him, although he could sense an uptick in her arousal. "Who made you the boss of me? We have to be a team, Joe. I won't stand by and watch you get yourself killed because of some misguided sense of chivalry."

Their argument escalated, voices rising and echoing off the cabin walls. Joe's anger flared, his frustration boiling over. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Melinda stood her ground, her eyes flashing with determination.

Without thinking, Joe grabbed her by the arms and pulled her against him. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. He could feel her heart pounding in sync with his, their bodies pressed together. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her.

The kiss was fierce, born out of frustration and passion, a collision of their wills. Melinda froze—momentarily shocked—but then it melted away, and she responded with equal intensity, her hands tangling in his hair. They were a storm of emotions, clashing and merging, neither willing to back down.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Joe's eyes searched Melinda's, his voice a rough whisper. "I can't lose you. You're…"

She placed her finger against his lips to silence him. "Don't. Not now, and you won't lose me, but you can't sideline me. I know I'm not as big and strong and deadly as you, but I won't be marginalized."

Stuck together in a cabin in the middle of a blizzard was no place to start something, especially with his fated mate, but Joe knew he had never been as aroused or moved by any other woman in his entire life. He had wanted her from the moment he'd laid eyes on her and every moment since.

He pulled her back into his arms, fusing his lips to hers, slipping his tongue inside her mouth to tangle with hers. The intensity of the kiss grew, matching the passion that coursed through him like an electric current. He could feel the softness of her body as she let the blanket drop and her naked skin caressed the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. It felt very much like they were the only two people left in the world, and nothing else existed but their need for each other.

Outside the cabin, the storm raged. But the storm that raged within might be the most dangerous of all.