Redemption's Forgiveness (The Rending, Book 2) by Cara Carnes
Marek will do anything to protect his pack and their land, including executing any Outsiders who dare enter pack lands. There's no soft in war--until Felicity, a curvaceous wolf with more sass than sense limps into Redemption with an impossible tale of betrayal.
Sharp stabs punctured each breath Felicity forced in shallow bursts. The man smelled of oak and musk. He held her gently in a protective embrace she appreciated more than she should. Who was he? Had she found Redemption?
“Relax, I’ve got you.”
She battled the hazy fog. Why had she violated the land treaty and gone to Redemption? Oh yeah. The threat. Her soul ached, her heart too wary for the memories she’d locked away. Maybe someday she’d recall the atrocities she committed. For now, nothing good came from recalling what she did.
“The boy.” She collapsed against the softness at her head and forced her eyelids open despite the harsh sun tumbling from the sky. Mid-afternoon. A stabbing sensation resonated behind her eyes. Her entire side throbbed beneath a constant burn. “Save him. Please.”
The wolf—the man who’d forced her shift held her tighter against him. Full lips harshened into a grim expression which accentuated the square set of his jaw. Her gaze trekked upward and locked on the golden amber swirling in darkened chocolate. Thick, dark hair fell around the handsomest face she’d seen.
Massive shoulders, thick arms and an expansive chest tumbled into her field of vision when she collapsed against powerful thighs. Definitely a warrior. Thank goodness he hadn’t challenged her. Though she’d kicked the asses of many hulky men, she didn’t think such a battle would bode well for her today.
He kept her pinned in his embrace. A shadow spanned the sky above her. Crisp traces of sandalwood, citrus and evergreen assailed her nostrils. Newcomers.
Protect the child.
The strong wolf didn’t shift to a defensive stance. Struggling beneath his firm hold, she tugged and twisted as she blindly searched for a weapon. If she’d collapsed near her terrain—Outsider country—any stranger was a perceived threat until proven otherwise.
No. Her mind flashed memories. Walk. Burned paws. Hurt jaw. Dry terrain. She’d fled the Outlands days ago. Right?
“Calm. A white dragon healer is here to help. If you get too agitated Doc will kick my ass for scaring you.” The man’s lips turned into a slight smirk.
“I see why you insisted on tending the wounded.” The uncensored anger forced her wolf forward in an agitated growl. The approaching man halted and grinned. “She’s developed your bedside manner, Marek.”