Branches in the path of the car snapped, rocks tumbled, and then there was silence until a loud crash sounded below where the car met the rocks. Another bang, and then silence.

Duncan joined Cearnach at the edge of the cliff and watched for any sign that the men were alive.

Guthrie realized with relief that Calla was still breathing, and he licked her face until she stirred and blinked groggily.

He quickly shifted. “Are you all right, Calla? Can you shift?”

She let out her breath, then shifted. As soon as Guthrie saw the bruise on Calla’s other temple, he was angry with Baird all over again. He quickly pulled her sodden sweater over her head and then helped her into the rest of her clothes.

He eased her gently into the car. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

She nodded, leaned back against the seat, and closed her eyes, shivering violently. “I’ll be right back,” he repeated. Then he shut the door, shifted, and raced along the road as a wolf to join his brothers.

Guthrie peered over the cliff, the same one that Baird hadn’t been able to climb because it was so steep. The car had taken a swan dive into the rocks below and had landed on its side. No one was moving inside the vehicle that they could see. The younger brother had been thrown from the vehicle and lay motionless against a tree. No sign of Robert or Vardon, who were probably trapped inside the smashed-up car, Guthrie assumed grimly.

But Baird had gotten away. Guthrie and his brothers went to retrieve their clothes where they had stripped out of them, shifted, and hurried to dress.

“No way to check the car out unless we go back down, take a swim again, and poke around at the wreckage,” Guthrie said to his brothers. “Next best thing is to call their next of kin and let them sort it out.”

“Aye,” both Cearnach and Duncan agreed. Being second in charge of the pack, Cearnach normally would have taken care of the matter, but because Baird had stolen Guthrie’s mate, Guthrie would inform Baird’s pack of the business. As soon as he got into the car, his brothers quickly following, Guthrie wrapped his arm around Calla and hugged her shivering body tightly against his. “What happened,” he asked, “when Vardon and the others arrived?”

“When we heard the car coming, Cearnach went into the woods to shift. When I saw Vardon’s car, I shifted so I could protect myself, but I guess I fainted. I’m glad you’re okay,” Calla said.

“That was the best thing you could have done, Calla, as it turns out. They could have broken into the car and grabbed you if we hadn’t been able to stop them in time.”

Duncan started the car and turned the heat on high, though the Arctic blast from the vents nearly transformed them into frozen statues before the car warmed up. And then, very slowly, Duncan drove back to Calla’s parents’ estate.

Guthrie got his phone out to call Baird’s other older brother, Skinny. He was the biggest wolf in the pack, but normally more even-tempered than Vardon. He was apparently more interested in his artwork than running the pack, but Guthrie wasn’t sure how he was going to take the news. It could go either way.

He had to tell Skinny that Baird and the others had brought this all on themselves, if they were dead—and before any rumors started to circulate that the MacNeills had intentionally taken them out. “This is Guthrie MacNeill. I’m calling to tell you that Baird stole my mate and his car went off the cliffs.” He gave the location. He could hear Skinny’s heavy breathing, but the oldest McKinley wasn’t saying anything.

“After the crash, Baird called Vardon, and he and Robert and your younger brother Oliver came to help him out.”

Calla cleared her throat. Guthrie glanced at her. “Tell Skinny that Baird didn’t bother to try to rescue me from the car.”

Guthrie stared at her for a moment, furious with Baird. “Did you get that?” he asked Skinny.

“Aye,” Skinny said. “The others?”

“Their car went over the cliff as well. Roads are really icy up here.”

“Yeah, but they slid on the ice because they were hightailing it out of here after trying to abduct me yet again and push your car off a cliff yet again,” Calla said, folding her arms and looking cross. Guthrie smiled a little at her. His brothers were grinning.

“Survivors?” Skinny asked.

“Not sure. Baird made it out alive, but he ran off.” Guthrie wanted to say “like the coward he is,” but he was trying his damnedest to be diplomatic since they didn’t need a big fight with Baird’s clan.

“Here, let me have the phone and I’ll tell him,” Calla said, clearly not interested in diplomacy at the moment. “Tell him that we’re mated, but Baird knocked me out and kidnapped me anyway.”

“I heard,” Skinny said. “What of my brothers and my cousin?”

“For all we know, Vardon and Robert could very well be alive. We can’t see them. The car is on its side, and all we can see is the underside. Oliver was thrown free of the vehicle, but he could have only been knocked unconscious. We can’t tell from way up here. Whoever retrieves them will have to swim to reach them, or maybe get some climbing gear and go after them that way. In this sleet, no matter what, it will be a risky business,” Guthrie said.

Skinny grunted.

“We don’t want any more trouble between our clans. Calla is not returning to your pack, and the loan to her parents has been repaid,” Guthrie said.