When Declan managed to pull her free, Jaxon released his pent-up breath.
“She’s alive and breathing.”
He rushed to Declan’s side and automatically reached for the limp body, wanting to feel her softness and hold her close.
She was covered in dirt, and so filthy from the black soot that cloaked everything in the immediate vicinity that there was no trace of her milky white skin to be seen.
Jaxon took her from Declan’s arms and they quickly exited the ruined building. He drew air deeply into his lungs, then fell to his knees, cuddling her still form close to his heart.
He held her there, close, his nose buried deeply in the side of her neck. And even before the scent clawed its way into his system, he knew. And it killed him.
The woman he held so tenderly in his arms was not his Libby.
Slowly, he held her away from him, taking in the features covered in dirt and ash. The woman was of similar build, but definitely was not the woman he was aching to hold.
Jaxon sat back, feeling crushed. His head swung back toward the wreckage, and the way Declan avoided his burning gaze pissed him off even more.
“She’s not in there!” He shouted his words into the chaotic night.
“I know,” Declan murmured, before taking the injured woman from his arms and walking away a few paces.
Jaxon’s chest felt like it was slowly ripping away from his body, as if someone had taken a large knife, sliced several chunks of his skin and then peeled it away ruthlessly, piece by piece.
He closed his eyes and concentrated, until nothing existed but Libby. He focused, and her image floated in front of him, her large violet eyes so incredibly expressive. So full of mistrust and pain.
His fucking legacy.
That’s all he’d ever given her. He clenched his teeth together. He would find her. And he would make it right.
Or it damn well would be the last thing he’d ever do, because he now knew if Libby wasn’t in his life, it sure as hell wasn’t worth living.
Jaxon’s eyes flew open and he sprang to his feet. He threw his shoulders back and calmed the beast inside. He needed to think.
His body screamed at him, wanting to plunge headlong into the jungle and find his mate. But he needed to be smart about this. He couldn’t screw this up, not when Libby’s life was on the line.
A soft moan grabbed his attention, and his head whipped around, eyes narrowing as the woman in Declan’s arms began to pitch forward, her eyes wild with terror. Declan whispered into her ear, and slowly the woman calmed, her limbs going limp once more as she fell against his chest.
He met Declan’s eyes and flinched at the knowledge that lay there. The woman had obviously been tortured as well. Bitterly, he thought of Libby out here alone, with no one to help her.
Some warrior he was. How had he not been able to find her these past three years? The bitterness that clogged his mouth made it hard for him to swallow, and his features blackened even more as he watched Cracker and Julian approach. Both men were resigned, and Julian cleared his throat before speaking.
“She was here, Jax,” Julian said. “I caught her scent and followed it to a river that’s about two miles south of the compound. From there I lost it. I swam to the other side but couldn’t pick it up anywhere.” He paused before continuing. “There was a man with her.”
Jaxon growled long and hard at his brother’s words and spat, “Was it the stench of the DaCostas?”
Julian nodded in silence, and they all watched as Jaxon shook his head and moved away from them.
The odd scream echoed eerily on the wind, and the scent of burning wood, vegetation, and bodies filled the air. Darkness blanketed the jungle like a velvety soft sheath of fur, broken only by the glow of fires that would continue to burn for several more hours. The jungle, normally alive with all sorts of nocturnal beings, seemed devoid of life. As if everything with a living, beating heart had been sucked into a vortex and thrown miles from where they were.
Jaxon’s voice was raw when he spoke, but the steel that lay at the heart of the jaguar shone through, and there was no mistaking the deadly purpose he held.
“You need to return to base camp. Pack up and get the hell out of here.” He turned toward the rest of them suddenly, his face harsh, unyielding. “I’m going to get Libby and I’ll join you at the airport.”
He began to move away from his team, his eyes meeting each one, realizing he was one member short.
“Where the hell is Jagger?”
His question was fired at Cracker, and he felt frustration claw at him as the soldier hesitated before answering him.