Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves 1)

Because they came for me.

The thought keeps repeating over and over in my head like a mantra. I grip Archer’s fur tighter, pressing my face into his neck. I relish the power of his body beneath me, and how his scent is wild and musky. He’s panting loud enough that I can hear him over the thundering of his giant paws, but he doesn’t slow. None of the men slow down as we leave the village behind and disappear into the wilderness.

These four men will protect me no matter what.

Time passes. We run so far and so long that my legs grow tired from clenching around Archer’s ribcage, and my fingers get weak from gripping his fur. By the time we slow to a stop, the moon is high in the sky and the inky blackness above is dotted with a million pinpricks of light.

I raise my head from Archer’s neck to find the now-familiar mating cabin visible between the trees ahead of us. It looks calm and serene in the dark night, like a place of safety and solace.

God, I hope that’s what it is.

Would my uncle come back here? Would he try again to find me and drag me back home after seeing what he just saw. I have to hope his sense of self-preservation is strong enough that he won’t want to fuck with the four massive wolves who invaded his home.

And if he does come looking for me again, I hope the men kill him.

I wish they’d killed him already.

Now that we’re no longer running, a chill sets into my bones. I came so close to dying today. I had allowed myself to believe that I was free of my uncle for good. Every day I spent in that cabin with these men healed me just that little bit, and in the blink of an eye, my uncle sliced open the safety net.

Will I ever really be safe as long as he’s alive?

Wrapping my arms around myself, I focus on my breathing like Archer taught me. The shock of ending up back at Clint’s, and the trauma of facing him again, aren’t going to pass easily. I’m shaking like a leaf and colder than I should be. The adrenaline dump, I guess.

The lights are off inside the cabin as we approach, and Dare fires up the generator. He murmurs something to Ridge as we all head inside the cabin, and the amber-eyed shifter answers in a low voice.

Oh, God. Ridge.

The reminder of the last time I saw him in human form tears through me like a bomb. As soon as we’re inside the front door and Trystan turns on the light, I throw myself at Ridge with tears pooling in my eyes.

His arms wrap around me automatically, and I bury my face in his chest. I can hardly speak through the lump in my throat. “I thought you were dead.”

His voice is rough, and his thick arms tighten around me. “No, sweetheart, not dead. Just got tranqued. I can’t believe that fucker got the drop on me.”

Our companions are still close by, but I can hear them murmuring to one another in low voices—giving me and Ridge the moment we need. This man has saved my life more than once now, and I’ll be forever indeb

ted to him for that.

But more importantly…

I breathe in his pine scent and revel in the warmth of his bare skin against my own. That delicious scent eases my panic. From the first day I awoke in his bed, his scent felt like coming home, and that’s more true now than ever.

I wish I could comfort him the same way he’s comforting me. There’s still tension in his body, and it turns his muscles hard and rigid even as his hands slide soothingly over my back.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. I pull back and tilt my head up to look into his eyes.

Ridge slides a hand around from my back to cup my face. His thumb plays across my jaw as he stares down at me, his dark eyes full of emotion. “Fuck. No, little wolf. I’m scared of losing you.”

“You didn’t lose me. You found me,” I point out with a small smile. But the look on his face has set my heart into a dizzying pace. My own fear and emotions churning inside me have been threatening to take me down since the moment Clint walked through the cabin door.

I remember the way Ridge held me in the shower as the water washed over us both. Just held me with no expectations of me, no irritation at how long it took me to learn to breathe again. He’s been caring for me since the moment he picked me up off the canyon floor, when he could have left me there.

He hasn’t had to do any of this. He’s chosen to. Again and again and again, he’s chosen to protect me. Chosen to care for me.

Chosen me.

I move my hand up his chest, my fingers tracing over the muscles of his torso. His breath hitches in his throat, and his gaze drops to my lips. With just those two small things, need rises inside me.

Heat flashes over my skin and fills the air between us. Before I can second-guess it or overthink it, I wrap my arms around him and rise up onto my tiptoes to kiss him.