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)
Emily appreciated the truth. “So, you just have a theory. That’s all.”
“Well, yes,” Gwen confirmed. “I’m hoping your genetic code isn’t beyond repair. There’s a chance it just needs a new combination of traits to stabilize.”
Emily’s head ached. “That sounds like a long shot.”
Gwen sighed. “Maybe. I’m just spit-balling here. The last thing is that timing is crucial. The longer the mutation affects your system, the harder it will be to reverse the damage.”
Well, of course, timing was crucial. Why wouldn’t it be?
“But, Emily, I will tell you it’s your only chance.”
Emily barked out a laugh, though she didn’t feel an inch of humor. This was unbelievable. She could mate Jackson and maybe live or die on him the next week, leaving him alone once again. She couldn’t do that to him.
And what about her pack? Either way, it was screwed. “There has to be another way,” she insisted.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Gwen replied quietly. “But you and Jackson seem to have an attachment, and he’s a perfect candidate.”
Perfect as a guinea pig? What if they mated and she died? Oh, she knew without a doubt that he’d mate her to save her life. He cared about her. She could feel it, and someday, she’d take that strong sensation to her death. But if they mated and she died, what then? One more family member would’ve died on him. Could she even consider putting him through another loss?
She concentrated on the phone still in her hand. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you staying up so late.”
“Goodnight, Emily.”
“Goodnight.” Emily clicked off, but it rang again before she could set the phone down. Heart pounding, she answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Nadia. Philip’s taken a turn for the worse.” Nadia’s voice cracked. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it. Victor’s already trying to take over the house. I don’t know what to do.”
Emily stood, pulse thudding in her ears. “Okay. I can be there in three hours.” She wasn’t sure she had the strength to run the whole way in wolf form, but she could drive. Fast. “I’m coming. I promise.”
She ended the call, grabbed her bag, and dashed outside. The storm had worsened. Snow swirled violently through the air, branches whipping against the wind. Ice splintered beneath her boots as she crossed to the truck. The air smelled of pine and frost, sharp and biting in her lungs. But she was a wolf, and she was a mountain girl. She could get home in time.
She had to.
Chapter 29
In human form, stark naked in the blistering storm, Jackson dragged four dead wolves behind him by the legs. Snow clung to his skin, melting against the heat radiating from his body. Seth and Erik flanked him, each pulling four more wolves, their breath steaming in the icy air. Their footsteps crunched over frozen ground as they moved into the heart of the new Ravencall territory.
The camp sprawled in a rough circle around a massive bonfire, its flames twisting against the dark sky. Thick clouds blotted out the moon, yet Jackson could still feel her pull beneath his skin. Around the fire, tents of dark canvas and hastily built wooden cabins stood haphazardly, their rough edges still raw from recent construction.
Why the hell had they chosen to move away from their last headquarters? The place had been well planned and would’ve made a good permanent territory.
The air felt heavy and thick with the smoke from cooking fires and burning wood. Snow covered the canvas flaps of tents and the hastily built structures, casting the entire area in shades of gray with orange from the fires.
Faces appeared in doorways, eyes wide as wolves and humans alike stepped out into the cold to watch. Low murmurs rippled through the camp as Jackson and his companions approached the fire. He dropped the bodies with a dull thud, Seth and Erik doing the same. Blood soaked the snow in dark patches, steam rising where it touched the heat of the fire.
Jackson stood tall, unflinching against the cold, uncaring that he was naked and bloodied. Red streaks flowed from gashes across his chest and ribs, and a deep wound on his right thigh oozed sluggishly, but he ignored the pain. His breath fogged the air, and his gaze swept the gathered crowd with a fierce, unyielding challenge.
“Here’s your current Alpha and eleven of his enforcers or soldiers,” Jackson called out, his voice rising above the crackling bonfire and whispering wind. “It only took three Alphas from the Stope Pack Coalition to take them down.”
His gaze swept the gathered crowd—sharp, unyielding. Snowflakes clung to his bare shoulders, melting against the heat of his skin. “I suggest you end your association with the Ghostwind Pack immediately. Find yourselves a decent Alpha and go back to peddling your spices.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The Ravencall Pack had built a surprisingly lucrative operation growing, blending, and selling exotic spices. It was an enterprise that should have kept them thriving without resorting to violence.