He used his claws, digging into the earth. He’d bury Decker’s enforcer and send others back later to return the fallen man to his surviving family members. It was the best he could do. Even an enemy deserved a decent burial given by his loved ones, even if he had made a bad decision that had gotten him killed. He was part of the clans.

It took Drantos time but he finally shoved the male inside the shallow grave, covered him up with dirt and heavy rocks so wildlife wouldn’t dig him up to eat.

He walked into the river and submerged his entire body, scrubbing the blood and dirt from his skin. He returned to the embankment and retrieved his clothing. That’s when he realized his jacket had been destroyed. Claws had torn through the material during the fight. And another problem became known—Dusti’s shots hadn’t survived. They had probably rolled over them in battle, breaking the thin syringes. The liquid from them had seeped into the material of his jacket and the ground under it.

“Fuck.” He blew out a frustrated breath. He’d find her and make sure she was okay, then worry about the rest later.

He bundled his remaining clothing and boots, hooking them onto the highest point of a branch on his makeshift raft. He’d hopefully at least keep his things dry by pushing the damn thing across the river. He just wished Dusti were on it, too, warm, dry, and safe.

A snarl built up inside his throat. He needed to find her, and was outraged that she wasn’t at his side where she belonged. He’d kill Decker Filmore with his bare hands if Dusti died because that jackass wanted to use his own flesh and blood to start a war.

Chapter Seven

“I’m so screwed,” Dusti whispered, staring at pure blackness around her. The sun had gone down while she’d slept. The woods were unusually quiet with the exception of the breeze stirring leaves.

A soft crunch noise made Dusti blindly snap her head in the direction of the sound. She hugged her waist hard, pressing tighter against the log, praying it wasn’t some animal on the hunt for an easy meal. She silently swore to fight if anything tried to eat her.

Exhaustion had caught up with her while she’d tried to get warm and she’d dozed off. That little nap had turned out to be a mistake, one she only realized now. It was impossible to even see her hand in front of her face. The treetops above entirely blocked the moon, if it was even out. Her plan of climbing a tree wouldn’t happen until morning. She’d even debated on stumbling around in the dark but fear had kept her in place.

She imagined falling into a hole or worse, off a cliff. All the unseen dangers filled her thoughts. She could stumble right into a nest of sleeping snakes. Or a bear. She shuddered, hugging her waist a little tighter. Animals wouldn’t have to hunt for her if she found them first. It was best to just stay still and quiet.

No other sounds scared her so she started to relax. Her head lowered to rest on the tops of her drawn-up knees, her breath the only source of warmth against her chest where she trapped it there with her bent body. She was cold but she doubted she’d freeze to death overnight. Things could be worse.

“I should have climbed a tree,” she muttered aloud, the sound of her voice her only comfort.

“That would have been a good plan,” a deep voice stated from behind her.

Dusti cried out, startled, and nearly toppled over.

Firm hands suddenly curled around her shoulders and a big body eased down along her back, his thighs caging her body. “Easy. It’s Drantos.”

“Damn it! You scared the shit out of me.” She twisted though, grabbing hold of him. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re alive!” She latched onto one of his arms. The warmth of his skin made her shiver again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you faster. You stayed in the river longer than I anticipated so it took time to track you.”

She managed to wiggle enough to get to her knees, leaning heavily against his chest. Warmth radiated off him as if he were a living heater.

“You’re freezing cold.”

“Why aren’t your clothes wet?” She touched his chest to assure she hadn’t imagined the dry feel of his shirt.

“One of us got to use that raft I built. Strip down now, take it all off. I’ll give you my shirt. I had to unfortunately leave the jacket behind.”

“Why?”

“Remove your wet clothes, Dusti. They’re just making you colder.”

She only hesitated for a second. The lure of something dry against her skin was too much of a temptation to resist. It took effort to back away from him and rise to her feet. She instantly missed being against him. His big hands helped her tug the still very damp clothing from her body. The chilly wind seemed a bit colder without the thin barrier when she stood naked. Drantos tugged his warm shirt over her head.

“Can you see anything?”

“Yes,” he admitted softly. “Don’t worry. You’re just an outline and I’m not enjoying it as much as I wish I could. Are you okay? I don’t smell blood.”

“I’m frozen and terrified but fine. What happened? Is that thing still out there? Is it coming after us?”

“He’s no longer a threat. I handled it.”

She allowed him to pull her into his very warm arms as his words sank in. His bare chest radiated wonderful heat that had her hugging him as tightly as she could. His big body felt heavenly while he cradled her against his front.

“Handled it?”

“Yes.”

“You got away from that thing?”

“You could say that. That particular enforcer of your grandfather’s won’t be a problem to us again.”

“How? You grew claws, didn’t you?” Her mind was fraught with questions and her sanity depended on getting answers she could understand. “Drantos, is that what you look like when you shift?”

“Yes. I told you what my people are.” He rubbed her back. “That really was one of your grandfather’s enforcers. It’s what we look like in our other form.”

She shivered again but it had nothing to do with being cold anymore. “That didn’t look like a wolf.” She clutched at him tighter. “You don’t look that scary, do you? That thing looked like some kind of hell beast. It’s because he’s evil, right? I totally want to believe that.”