“If you won’t leave—I will.”

She found her discarded sneakers by the couch and reached down to grab them, but big fingers wrapped around her bicep and yanked her up.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not?” Jess pushed up against him. “And how are you going to stop me?”

He let her go so abruptly, she stumbled back a bit.

“No, we’re not doin’ this. When you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk.”

She followed him to the front door. He snatched it open and marched outside.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a glibness she didn’t feel. Not when the only man she’d ever love was walking out of her life. Maybe forever. “Go on and run.”

She watched him walk down the stairs and toward his truck. “I guess your daddy was right all those years ago—you are afraid to take what’s yours.”

He froze beside his truck, his body one rigid line of rippling muscles. And in that instant she knew she’d said the one thing that might push her wolf over the edge.

Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, Smitty opened the passenger side of the truck. He took off his baseball cap and tossed it inside. Then he did the same with his heavy winter coat, shrugging it off his big shoulders. He carefully closed the door shut and turned to face her. All Jess saw were cold wolf eyes and fangs.

That’s when she made a run for it.

He never expected her to shift, but it didn’t stop him. He simply shifted to wolf and went after her. Wild dogs and wolves were equally fast, but wild dogs could run for hours before running out of steam. Wolves could run for miles and lope for hours. But the weather worked in his favor. Wolves could maneuver in the snow easily; wild dogs not so much. They’d been built for hunting in grasslands, not the uneven terrain of North America. He’d take advantage of that weakness. Because nothing would stop him now. Nothing would hold him back.

Smitty looped around and came at her from the front. She spotted him and made a fast change, her small paws slipping slightly on the snowy ground, losing momentum.

He quickly backtracked and looped around again, cutting her off from the new angle. She dashed off in another direction and he stayed right behind her, pushing her through the woods.

For a moment, he thought he had her. His front paws slamming against her hips. But she easily spun and slapped him with her paw, ripping into one side of his muzzle.

Jessie didn’t even stop, merely ran off in a different direction. Smitty turned and followed. Again pushing her where he wanted her. This time toward snow-covered rocks.

She leaped up but couldn’t keep her footing and slid across, then off the big stones. She quickly scrambled to her feet, but she’d lost precious time. Smitty tackled her from behind, shoving her hard to the ground. She kept fighting him,though. Her paws slashing at him as she tried to get out from under him, her jaw snapping at his. Not a fake fight. Not a show of a struggle. She fought him like her life depended on it—because it did. Her future life. Their lives together. Which was why he didn’t give up. He’d never give up where Jessie Ann was concerned.

It took some doing and a lot of slashes to his chest and side, but he finally forced her onto her back. He immediately wrapped his maw around her throat, the additional fur protecting her throat tickling his nose. He bit down hard and shook her.

Jess wiggled, trying to get out of his grasp, but he growled and bit down harder, shaking her one more time. Making his intentions, his demands, very clear.

Jessie Ann stopped moving, stopped fighting. She panted. She waited.

He held on a little longer. Long enough to make sure she wouldn’t run again. Not merely at this moment, but ever.

She let out a sigh and her body relaxed beneath his. That’s when he knew.

Smitty unhinged his jaw and nuzzled her neck, licking the blood off where he’d buried his fangs.

At the same moment, they shifted back to human. She had faint bite marks in her throat and blood on her cheek where it had dripped from his face. Her claws had ripped a rather healthy chunk out of his flesh. He dragged his hand across his cheek, wiping off the blood. He ignored the rips in his chest—they weren’t that deep.

It hurt, what she did to him. Physically, it hurt like a bitch. But emotionally, it only proved what he’d already known. Only Jessie Ann could push him like this. Only Jessie Ann could bring out the wolf inside him and face it head-on. He’d been fighting it so hard, for years. Afraid that by letting out the wolf, he’d be letting out the Smith. But he wasn’t his daddy. He wasn’t his brothers. He was Bobby Ray, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take the woman he wanted, who loved him more than anything, and make her his the only way predators could.

No wonder she’d been so mad. A Smith courting must have seemed an insult to her when she’d known damn good and well how Smiths took their mates. They didn’t call it a Smith mate-maul jokingly.

But that’s what she’d deserved. Because no one else matched him as perfectly as Jessie Ann. As different as they were, they still belonged together. She’d challenge him again, and next time... hell, next time she’d probably win.

Jess forced herself not to wince when she saw how badly she’d fucked up his face. Thank God the Smith wolves weren’t so much pretty as hot. The scar that would leave might make some guys look less attractive. Not Smitty. It would make him look even hotter.

As he flashed his fangs at her, Jess felt no fear. No regret. Nothing but a need to be fucked and marked by her mate that went deeper than anything inside her had before.