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layer was a silver emergency blanket, folded back to show a strip of the cream wool blanket underneath. A second emergency blanket acted as the groundsheet. It looked wonderful. She put her palm flat on the ground to push herself to her feet, but Marcus scooped her up in his arms before she could move.
    “Bare feet,” he reminded her.
    “Oh. Thanks.” In his arms, she felt delicate and light as a feather. But not insubstantial. Not worthless. Valued. It was crazy. She barely knew him. 
    He set her on the bed, and Kirra burrowed under the covers. “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked. “Am I using up all the blankets?”
    “Don’t worry about us. That’s why we have fur—natural insulation. Jackson has probably already shifted. Don’t freak out when you see two Wolves walking around in the morning.”
    “Wolves. Morning. Don’t freak out. Got it.” She was fading fast. “Night, Marcus. Thank you.”
    “No problem.”

Chapter Six
    “S he’s a problem,” Jackson said, scowling across the clearing. All he could see of the human was her silky hair sticking out of the bundle of blankets she huddled under. It was enough to annoy him.
    Marcus lounged against the skinny trunk of a birch and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem like much of a problem to me. Hasn’t whined or complained once.”
    “No. Instead she demands things.”
    “Would you rather she complain?”
    Jackson opened his mouth to respond, then shut it. It was a trick question. He’d been partnered with Marcus long enough to recognize when he was about to walk into a verbal trap. The man had a way with words. A tricky way. Some days he really missed his old partner, Ash. They could go for days without speaking. Never argued once. Why the alpha had decided to split them up was beyond him. Something about balancing out personalities. What a load of crap.
    “I would rather she tell us why the soldiers were after her and why she wants to see the alpha,” he finally said, neatly dodging the trap. Marcus didn’t even seem to notice.
    “She almost died, Jackson. She needs to rest and recover. We’ll be home soon enough, and the alpha will get all that information out of her.”
    It was true, but for some reason it didn’t sit right in his gut. He imagined the alpha questioning her, grilling her, and had to bite back a growl of protest. He should be the one asking her questions and deciding what should be done, not the alpha. Not Marcus. Him.
    Marcus was still talking, but Jackson tuned him out. He needed to wipe his head of the crazy thoughts invading. “I’m going back out,” he said, stripping off his clothes. “I’ll wake you in two hours.”
    His shift was fast and brutal, the pain of transformation ripping through him in one short, sharp burst. In his Wolf form, he took a deep breath of the crisp night air, hoping to clear his senses. Instead, he was hit with Kirra’s clean, naturally seductive scent. It filled his nose and invaded his body like a drug.
    He wanted to roll over and have his belly rubbed. A growl of protest built in his throat, and he sprinted into the woods before Marcus sensed his distraction. If the man laughed, he’d have to kill him.
    The hours passed slowly. There was no sign that the Cats had followed—he hadn’t truly thought they would break the treaty over a human, but he had to be sure. If Marcus would break it to save a human, the Cats might if they wanted to kill her badly enough.
    The thought of Kirra at the mercy of the Cats set his pulse pounding in his ears and his vision blackened at the edges. What if they’d snuck around while he was checking their back trail? They could have taken Marcus by surprise.
    He ran through the woods, leaping rocks and rotten tree trunks and dodging through narrow gaps, ignoring the branches that scraped his sides, trying to hold him back. By the time he reached the camp site, his lungs burned and his sides heaved.
    Marcus, curled