It would destroy me.

  Cold was my only ally now.

  It sliced through the heat haze wrapping around my body, clearing the edges of my thoughts like glass through fog. Every breath burned, lungs raw from running, but I needed that pain and clung to it. It reminded me I was more than my biology.

  The rain came harder, pelting my skin like needles, soaking through my clothes until I was shivering. Good. Let it drown my scent. Let it bury me from him.

  The storm was my camouflage. My absolution.

  Mud clung to my boots as I pushed deeper into the trees, the terrain getting rougher, steeper. I used the terrain like I’d learned as a kid. Uphill for distance, downhill for speed. Keep your head low. Don’t waste energy doubling back too early. Make your trail unpredictable.

  But the bastard was still close.

  I could feel it, that pull. That alpha gravity. My instincts didn’t care that it was the wrong scent, that the wrong voice had whispered my name through the storm. My body still responded to him in flashes of raw, stupid heat. A cruel biological betrayal.

  No. Even as wrong as it felt, my body responded to it. Damn it. I refused to betray them. To betray me. Not like this.

  My mind warred with every primal impulse that begged me to stop, to let the alpha find me. I forced my legs to move, heart hammering like it wanted to escape my ribs.

  Lightning cracked overhead, so bright it painted the forest in white for half a heartbeat. In that blink, I saw movement down the slope. A dark figure, broad shoulders, purposeful stride. Beckett Rylan.

  Too close.

  My throat tightened. I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted copper, grounding myself in the pain.

  Focus, Wren. You’ve run before. You’ve survived too long to give in now.

  I veered sharply to the left, ducking through a stand of birch trees where the wind swirled unpredictably. I scraped my hand deliberately against a branch, and left a faint blood scent. A lure. Then I doubled back, crouching low, fighting against the trembling in my limbs as I pressed through the undergrowth in the opposite direction.

  Rain hammered the earth, turning everything slick, but I welcomed it. The mud would swallow my tracks soon enough.

  Another flash of lightning and another glimpse of Rylan further upslope now, heading toward the false scent trail. My breath hitched in relief.

  For a moment, I could almost hear Roan’s voice in my head, that calm command he used when the ice got tense: Keep your head. Control what you can. Don’t panic.

  I tried. God, I tried.

  But the storm wasn’t just rain anymore. It was a living wall of wind and thunder, screaming through the pines. I could barely see five feet ahead. The temperature dropped so fast my teeth began to chatter, the heat inside me battling the cold until it felt like my skin couldn’t decide which way to burn.

  My gear helped, barely. The waterproof layers were meant for media scrums, not mountain hunts, but the rain had found every seam, every zipper. My fingers ached from the cold.

  A branch snapped behind me.

  Not the storm.

  Him.

  I bit back a sound, ducking low, pressing myself against a fallen log slick with moss. The air was heavy, full of scent and ozone and fear.

  Then, barely more than a whisper, his voice cut through the dark. “You honestly thought they’d find you before I did?”

  My pulse spiked.

  He was playing with me. Drawing it out. Beckett Rylan didn’t just chase for dominance, he enjoyed the hunt. He’d been hunting me since our first meeting. I’d always managed to cut him off and avoid him. Now? Especially after losing the Apex Trophy to the Howlers, he wanted me scared, trembling, pliant.

  But I wasn’t prey. Not for him. Not for anyone.

  I crouched lower, heart hammering, forcing shallow, silent breaths. My muscles shook with the effort of holding still. The icy rain kept falling, thick and relentless, masking scent and sound.

  A gust of wind shifted, and suddenly I caught something welcome on the breeze, faint but unmistakable.

  Roan.

  A heartbeat later — Rhett.

  Jay.

  Their scents threaded through the storm, tangled and wild and theirs. Relief hit so hard my knees almost buckled.

  Still, I didn’t move. Couldn’t risk leading them straight into Rylan’s path. I needed to draw him off just a little longer.

  I slid forward on my stomach, pushing through wet leaves until I reached the edge of a slope. What had been packed in snow before was all mud, leaves, and debris. Soon, it would be ice slicked and crystalline. Below me, though, was a narrow ravine, swollen with runoff from the storm. Dangerous, fast-moving water, but it would break my trail completely.

  Decision made, I exhaled once, hard. “Come and get me, asshole,” I whispered, and threw myself down the incline.

  The cold hit like a fist. The current grabbed me, tearing my breath from my lungs as I fought to surface, clawing against the pull of water and mud and panic.

  But even through the chaos, I had one thought — one, steady pulse in my mind that burned hotter than the heat still raging in my body.

  Find me, Roan. Please. Jay. Rhett. Find me before he does.

  The current slammed me against a rock hard enough to drive the air from my lungs. My world narrowed to water and thunder and the raw, searing cold that clawed through every inch of me. I couldn’t tell which way was up. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  Then—impact. A second splash, heavier, deliberate. A shape cutting through the current.

  No.

  Panic ripped through me, sharp and immediate. I kicked backward, heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. My mind screamed Rylan, even before I could see him—his voice echoing through memory, through fear, through every instinct that said run.

  But then—warmth.

  Hands found me. Strong. Steady. Familiar.

  I caught a flash between lightning strikes: honey-brown skin, dark curls plastered to his forehead, those impossible dimples half-hidden behind a grimace.

  Rhett.

  Relief hit so fast it hurt. My muscles went slack for a heartbeat as a choked laugh—or maybe a sob—escaped me.

  “I got you, boots,” he shouted, his voice rough and breathless but full of that infuriating, unbreakable confidence.

  My fingers caught the strap of his gear, and I kicked hard, fighting the current beside him. The rain lashed our faces, the current tried to tear us apart, but we clawed for the bank together. Every inch forward felt like wrestling gravity itself.

  We hit the shallows, half-crawling, half-dragging each other onto slick, stony ground. My body trembled, heat and cold battling until I wasn’t sure which would win. Rhett’s hand stayed on my back, grounding me through the chaos.

  Lightning split the sky again—white and merciless—and in that flash, I saw him.

  Rylan.

  Standing on the shore like a nightmare given flesh, rain streaming down his face, eyes burning with something unholy.

  My stomach dropped.

  He moved fast—too fast—and before I could shout a warning, he kicked out, boot connecting with Rhett’s ribs. The impact sent Rhett skidding back into the water with a growl that wasn’t human anymore.

  “Rhett!” I screamed, scrambling to my knees, fingers clawing at the mud.

  But Rhett wasn’t down.

  He twisted with the current, teeth bared in a snarl that would have frozen blood, and his hand shot out—grabbing Rylan’s ankle in one brutal motion.

  The shock on Rylan’s face lasted only a second before Rhett yanked.

  Both men crashed into the torrent, a tangle of limbs and fury and raw Alpha dominance, the storm swallowing them whole.

  I staggered toward the edge, heart pounding, rain in my eyes, throat raw from shouting.

  The water roared louder than any voice. Lightning turned the world white again.

  And then I saw movement—two shapes, locked together, fighting the current and each other in a violent, swirling blur.

  “Rhett,” I whispered, uselessly. My voice vanished in the storm.

  But even through the fear, even through the rising panic, something else flared deep inside me. A heat not born of biology this time—something fiercer.

  They came for me.

  And they weren’t about to let Rylan take me without a fight.

  The storm was everywhere—inside me, around me, inside them. The roar of the water drowned everything, but I could still hear them—Rhett’s snarl, Rylan’s curse, the splash and struggle as the river became an arena for something older than rivalry.

  My knees sank into the mud at the water’s edge. I shouted his name again and again, throat raw, hands trembling so hard I could barely keep myself upright. Every flash of lightning gave me glimpses: Rhett’s arm locking around Rylan’s shoulder, Rylan twisting, throwing a wild punch that barely missed. The current caught them both, dragging them farther downstream.

  I started forward before I could think, boots slipping.

  Then—hands. A grip on my shoulders.

  “Stay with her!” Roan’s voice cut through everything, sharp, commanding, and for one wild second, my chest cracked open with relief because he was here.

  He didn’t wait for an answer, just kissed me hard and swift. The burn of his mouth on mine a brand. Then he dove straight into the current, a blur of motion and muscle and controlled fury.

  Jay’s hand found mine, fingers fisting tight, holding me to him as the storm tried to pull the world apart. His body was shaking—from the cold or the adrenaline, I didn’t know—but his grip didn’t falter. “He’s got him,” he said, voice barely audible over the wind. “He’s got him.”

  Roan wouldn’t let Rhett fight alone. He’d back him. They’d get Rylan together. Jay and I moved moved together along the bank, following the violence that tumbled downstream. I could feel Jay’s pulse thundering against mine, his own scent edged with protectiveness that blanketed me.

  The rain turned to ice. Literal shards of it. It cut against my skin as the wind howled through the trees. Downriver, two bodies broke the surface—Rhett and Rylan—crashing against the rocky edge. Rhett was up first, mud-slick and wild-eyed, chest heaving, teeth bared in a snarl that looked more wolf than man.

  Rylan pushed to his feet, spitting blood, eyes locked on Rhett. He lunged again. Then Roan was there.

  He hit Rylan like a breaking wave, the force of it echoing through the storm. The sound—the impact—ripped through the air, a sickening mix of water and bone and rage.

  “Roan!” I screamed, though it wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was everything at once—terror, pride, heat, love.

  Jay pulled me back just enough to keep me from slipping back into the water, but my eyes never left the three figures in the downpour.

  It wasn’t a hockey fight. It wasn’t even a hunt. It was primal, raw, and absolutely personal.

  Rylan swung first—fast, desperate—but Roan took the hit and drove through it, using that controlled strength that made him the leader he was. Rhett came in behind him, cutting off Rylan’s retreat, a silent, brutal echo to Roan’s precision.

  Two against one, but there was no mercy in it.

  Another hit. A roar. Then the sound of a body hitting the rocks hard enough to make my stomach twist.

  Lightning split the sky, blinding white, and when the world came back into focus, it was over.

  Rylan was down.

  Blood mixed with rain, running in dark streaks across his face. He was breathing—barely—but he wasn’t getting up again.

  Rhett stood over him, chest heaving. Roan, soaked, shivering, and eyes burning with alpha fury, stared down at the man who’d stalked and hunted and tried to take me.

  “Stay down,” Roan said, voice low and dangerous. The kind of voice that promised consequences if he didn’t.

  For once, Rylan listened.

  Jay’s hand tightened around mine. “It’s done,” he said, his voice barely above the rain as we hurried toward them. “It’s over, Wren.”

  But my pulse didn’t slow. My body shook—heat, cold, adrenaline, and the overwhelming weight of what had just happened.

  Rhett looked toward us, tracking our movements as we got closer. His dimples ghosted faintly on his face, despite his exhaustion. I could hear him clearly even if he didn’t say a word. Told you I had you.

  Then Roan turned, the storm of his eyes matching the rage of nature around us, but he found my gaze as we closed in. He was steady, fierce, and so damn alive. He was promise in human form. I said come and claim me.

  They were here.

  They were claiming me.

  I nodded once, chest tight, heart hammering.

  Because I believed them. The threat of Rylan was over, but nothing between Jay, Roan, Rhett, and me ever would be.

  Inside, my soul exulted.

  Chapter

  Forty-One

  ROAN

  The bastard was after her.

  That’s the first thing I saw when we burst through the trees— Beckett Rylan, former Howler and eternal thorn in my damn side, in the water with Wren, trying to catch her like she was a prize he’d won instead of a woman he was about to break.

  My pulse went feral.

  Rhett got to her first, and getting her out of the water before he went after Rylan once more. He slammed his shoulder into Rylan’s chest, all muscle and rage. I barely remembered the sound — a crack, a grunt — before they slammed into the rocks. I followed after them. Jay already had Wren. She was safe, he would protect her. Right now, all I wanted was to savage the son of a bitch who hurt her. Who’d hunted her and wanted to hurt her.

  The fight didn’t last long. Beckett Rylan was great at bullying those weaker than him, but not us. He didn’t have the strength or the dominance to take on one of us, much less both. We dragged him up onto the shore, all of us soaking wet and him unconscious. The temptation to just leave him there to freeze to death was real.

  Finishing him off was also an option visible in Rhett’s feral eyes. I shook my head once and Rhett grimaced. “I know,” I told him on a growl. “Call the sheriff’s office. Report him for assault.”

  “Fuck, that’s going to be paperwork.”

  I could hardly blame Rhett for the snarl. Not when I felt it too.

  “Tell them our omega is in heat, and we’re bonding. He’s their problem, not ours.” Identifying Wren as our omega in paperwork could cause some problems, but I didn’t plan on us being here for them to take her name. “If necessary, we’ll stop by in a few days once we’re free. They can handle him until then.” If that meant he sat in their jail cell, well, how sad for him.

  Leaving Rhett for a moment, I stalked back to where Jay held Wren. Knowing Jay had her was one thing, yet a very primitive part of me needed to see her, touch her, to assure myself she was safe. She was ours—mine, dammit and I needed to assure myself she was fine.

  She was shaking, soaked through, her hair plastered to her face like riverweed. Christ, she’d gone into the water. Her lips were pale, her skin clammy. I could smell the cold on her — that sharp, metallic edge — but underneath it, the unmistakable sweetness of her heat. Faint, but rising. Damn it all.

  “Jay, get her to the cabin,” I ordered, my voice coming out rougher than I meant. “Now. Get her warm. We’ll take care of this.”

  He hesitated for half a second, his beta instincts all tangled up with protectiveness. Biological status aside, Jay adored her every bit as much as we did. But one look at me and he nodded. Wren swayed, and I caught her just long enough to steady her.

  “Roan…” she chattered, voice trembling like broken glass. “What do you mean by… take care of?”

  I cupped her chin, cold skin beneath colder fingers, and tilted her face up until her eyes met mine. Gods, those eyes. Copper infused whiskey like thawing ice.

  “Trust me,” I said.

  Then I kissed her. Not long, not deep, just enough to soothe us both. To remind her we were here, and she was safe, mine.

  Her lashes fluttered. Her lips, trembling and a little blue, curved the smallest smile. It cracked open something raw in my chest I didn’t even know I’d been holding.

  “As much as I’d like to kill him,” I said against her mouth, “we won’t. Not this time.”

  Her soft thank you landed somewhere deep, not just words, but a thread. Acceptance. Bond. She was in my blood, because of course she was. It was how we’d known she’d needed us before. Why we’d pursued the thread to find her even when we hadn’t understood.

  Alpha. Beta. Omega. Her designation had never mattered to me. She was mine. She would always be mine. We would be hers. Today—we would seal that bond permanently. After we dealt with the asshole.

  “Go,” I told Jay again, and this time my voice left no room for argument. He slipped an arm around her and started toward the cabin, both of them half-stumbling through the mud hardening with ice. It wasn’t quite the snowy landscape it had been, the rain had melted a lot but this storm would bring more to blanket the frozen landscape. Wipe it clean.

  But even through the cold and the chaos, her scent was a slow blooming, molten sweetness curling through the air. Her heat was coming on fast now. Probably as triggered by us as we were by it.

  Jay would handle it, for now. He’d keep her warm. Ease her. Rhett moved past me, caught Wren’s hand before she could leave entirely. He didn’t say a word, just bent, brushed his lips to hers. Rougher than mine. Fierce. Like he needed to taste her to believe she was alive. Not that I could blame him.

  She made a small sound that was half sigh, half command. “Don’t be long.”

  God help me, that tone nearly undid me.

  Rhett and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement older than any team we’d ever played on.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I murmured.

  Then we turned back to Rylan.

  He was dragging himself up, blood on his teeth, eyes burning with something ugly and stupid. The kind of look a man wore when they’ve already lost but can’t admit it.