Rhyannon Byrd - Wild Wolf Claiming

But they’d already spent far more time there than was safe.

“Come on,” he said, reaching out and taking her cold hand. He kept his movements easy and smooth as he led her from the room, not wanting to spook her. “Let’s get that bag packed.”

Though there were three closed doors in the hallway, it was easy to tell which one was Skye’s by simply searching out her scent. He quickened his pace, opening her door and dragging her into the untouched bedroom, grateful that she couldn’t detect the scent of blood coming from her friend’s room the way he could.

Elliot hoped like hell that Vivian Jackson was okay—but it was becoming harder to hold on to that hope with each second that ticked by.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Skye whispered, drawing his gaze as she opened her closet door and pulled down a big backpack from the top shelf. She set the bag on top of a weathered white dresser, then started rummaging through the drawers, throwing in what looked like an assortment of jeans, T-shirts and sweaters.

Bracing himself against the wall behind him, Elliot kept up a constant lecture in his head. One that basically went along the lines of how he needed to keep his shit together and that even though he was in her bedroom, surrounded by her so-perfect-it-killed-him scent, he needed to suck it up and stay strong. What he couldn’t do was let his hunger get the upper hand on him. Or keep stealing heated glances at the double bed she had pushed into the far corner of the room, imagining what she would look like spread out over the pale gray sheets, her beautiful body completely bare to his burning, greedy stare, while her heavy gaze begged him to touch her...to claim her.

Time and place, man. Time and place. And this is neither!

“That’s all for in here,” she said, clutching the bag to her chest as she turned to face him. “I just need to grab a few things from the bathroom, and I’ll be done.”

Holding her wide-eyed, fear-filled gaze, Elliot pushed off from the wall and slowly crossed the room to her. She blinked up at him as he took the bag from her trembling hands, hooking one of the straps over his shoulder. Then he leaned down, a hitching breath surging past her lips as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, keeping his lips against her smooth, silky skin. “I wish like hell that this wasn’t happening to you.”

She hiccupped as she reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of his Henley, and he could feel how hard she was trying to be brave. “You’re so strong, Skye, and I know you can handle this. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone.”

She clutched at him tighter, the sound of her soft voice as she whispered his name making his throat and chest burn with emotion. Knowing he needed to stay sharp and get her out of there, he forced himself to stand straight and reach for one of her small hands again, holding it tight in his. Then he headed for the door, pulling her along behind him, and out into the hallway, relieved that they were almost on their way. But then she suddenly pulled her hand from his grip and lunged for Vivian’s door.

“Skye, don’t!” he shouted, as she quickly twisted the doorknob. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“I have to, Elliot.” She turned her head to the side, a shattered but determined expression on her face as she glanced up at him. “Please don’t try to stop me.”

He cursed under his breath, but damn it, this was her apartment. As badly as he wanted to protect her, he didn’t have any right to tell her what to do. Not when it wasn’t a life-or-death situation. And going into the room wasn’t something that could kill her. It was just going to cause her a shitload of pain, and he hated it.

Then she opened Vivian’s door, and the most unholy scream he’d ever heard a woman make came tearing out of her.

There was blood. A lot of it. Spattered over the floor and one wall, and as he drew in a deep breath, his stomach clenched with knots.

It was human blood. Vivian’s blood. And the assholes had left a message written for them with it on the wall.

Too late Runners. This bitch is ours.

Chapter 5

It wasn’t until Elliot’s strong arms wrapped around her from behind in a warm, comforting embrace that Skye realized the high-pitched wail echoing in her ears was her own.

“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. It’s okay, sweetheart. Just calm down for me.”

With her back still to his front, he lifted her off her feet and quickly pulled her from the room, reaching back with one arm to yank the door shut before carrying her into the living room. Since there was nowhere to sit down, he set her back on her feet, but kept his powerful arms wrapped around her, and she trembled as she felt him place his cheek against the top of her head.

“Come on,” he crooned, surrounding her in his warmth as she tried to stop making the god-awful sounds that were being pulled up from deep inside her. Oh, God... Vivian! She silently screamed that phrase over and over inside her head, feeling like she’d slipped into some kind of macabre, demented nightmare. What the hell had happened to her best friend? Was she hurt? Was she...gone? And why? Why was this happening?

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the sinister images of Viv’s room that kept flashing through her mind. But it was impossible. Who could do such a thing? Who would ? And why?

“Skye, listen to me.” He’d lowered his head, speaking the urgent words against her ear, and she could feel the warmth and smoothness of his lips against her sensitive skin. “I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Come on, honey. I know you can do it.”

Somehow, Elliot’s deep voice managed to reach in and capture her attention from the painful chaos of her thoughts, the husky timbre grounding her when everything around her seemed to be spinning so violently out of control. She gasped, trying to do as he said, but it seemed to take long, endless moments before her lungs could finally work. She coughed and wheezed between sniffs and hiccups, her muscles twitching as she let him hold her up, her limbs as weak as a rag doll’s. If he’d let her go, she would have simply fallen into a heap of broken sobs and fear on the floor. One more broken thing there to add to all the others.

But he didn’t let her go. He held her like he would stand there and hold her forever, if that’s what it took, and as the seconds ticked by, she could feel his strength seeping into her, until she was able to blink her vision clear and pull in a slow, deep, shuddering breath. At that moment, Skye honestly didn’t know what she would have done without him. She didn’t even want to think about it. And, yeah, she was going to have about a million and one questions once she’d managed to calm down. Just...not now. Right now, she needed to keep feeling his strong arms holding her close, his chest rising and falling at her back as he matched the rhythm of his breathing to hers.

“That’s it,” he murmured, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Just one deep breath after another, nice and slow.”

She gave a hard swallow and sniffed, needing to make her throat work so that she could at least thank him. But as she turned her head, wanting to look up into his rugged, gorgeous face, she caught the flash of something on the floor from the corner of her eye. Her stomach clenched when she realized it was the flashing red light on the answering machine that Viv had found for them at her favorite thrift store, and she tried to lunge for it, but Elliot’s arms were still wrapped around her, holding her tight.

“Let me go!” she cried, pulling at his arms. “I need to check the answering machine. Someone’s left a message and it might be Vivian!”