She still had her parents, but they traveled abroad most of the time, and after Tammy’s murder, her withdrawal had put quite a strain on their relationship. They’d always love her, as she would them, but they didn’t understand her, nor could they ever really. She’d never tell them about lycans. She couldn’t willingly subject anyone she loved to that knowledge. She stayed in touch with them via phone. It was better to remain distant from them, especially since she carried the scent. She didn’t want to risk putting them in danger.

She’d never forgive herself if something happened to them because of her. She repacked her duffel bag and got more weapons from her stash in the closet, although now that Knox had told her that silver had no affect on lycans, she wasn’t sure she should even bother. But ineffective weapons were better than no weapons at all. She was in constant danger, and she had to have the means to protect herself somehow, even if that protection would only slow the enemy down.

A half hour later, she was ready to go, but decided to wait and see how bad the snowstorm got before trudging out in it. She set the duffel bag by the front door, plopped on the couch, and flipped on the television.

After a few minutes of surfing through the local news and adjusting the rabbit ears to get a somewhat viewable channel—she didn’t watch television enough to bother with satellite or cable—it was evident that she wouldn’t be heading out until tomorrow morning. The storm wasn’t going to be as bad as many she’d seen, but she wasn’t fool enough to risk being stranded in it either.

She stretched out on the old blue sofa that had seen better days, and closed her eyes. She’d relax for a bit and then figure out what she’d cook for dinner.

* * *

Rose slowly opened her eyes to a dark room lit by the low glow of the television. Her restless night had apparently taken a toll, and her short nap turned into a few hours of much needed sleep. She sat up and arched her back in a catlike fashion, smiling when it popped in just the right place. She rubbed her eyes and wondered if she should even bother with dinner, but just as she was about to get up and go to the kitchen, all of the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood straight up.

She stilled and cocked her head to the side. Her inner warning bells were clanging away as they had at

Knox’s when the rogue attacked her. She scanned the room, but couldn’t find anything alarming.

Even though she couldn’t detect any immediate danger, it was there nonetheless. She dropped slowly to the floor and inched her way toward the duffel bag by the front door.

It seemed to take forever to inch across a few feet of space, but she wanted to make as little movement as possible. She dug around in the bag and pulled out a gun and dagger, a weapon for each palm. She scooted to the wall and had just pressed her back against it when a thud sounded on the front door, which was right beside her. Her heart hammered in her chest, and if she was right about what was outside her door, it could probably hear each frantic thump.

She swallowed hard and started belly crawling toward the bedroom, but before she got halfway there, the front door splintered, and wood sprayed across the room. She rolled onto her back just as a giant red wolf landed at her feet. She cried out in surprise, aimed, and shot the lycan. Its yelp told her she’d hit her target, but she knew her advantage would be a short one before it recovered. She got up and ran for the bedroom, praying that she’d wounded the wolf bad enough for it to decide she wasn’t worth the bother.

Just as she made it to her room, the window shattered, and another wolf jumped through. This one was bigger and black, with glowing eyes, and fangs dripping saliva. She figured his back would come almost to her waist. She pointed the gun and fired a shot as the wolf leaped and sailed through the air.

Her last thought as the wolf hit her hard, driving her to the ground with its weight, was that she was about to die. As her head smacked the wood floor hard, blackness swam before her eyes, then engulfed her, dragging her down into oblivion. Thank God she wouldn’t be awake for whatever was about to happen to her.

* * *

When Knox arrived at Rose’s house and saw the shattered front door, murderous rage hit him hard, blurring his vision with a red haze. The smell of the lycans was pungent, and he leaped from the truck after he’d slammed it into park. Curved claws shot through his fingertips, fangs erupted from his gums, and the familiar heat of his inner wolf coming to life seared the blood in his veins.

He let out a howl that nearly shook the house as he ran inside. There was blood on the living room floor, and near-crippling pain tore through his chest at the thought of Rose being hurt. When he got to the bedroom door, the rage inside him boiled to a level he’d never felt in his life. There were three of them. One red wolf who appeared to have been shot—dumbass hadn’t even shifted to human and back again to heal the wound—

a gray wolf, and a black. The black bastard stood over Rose’s unconscious body sprawled on the floor.

There was about to be three dead wolves, and he wasn’t inclined to show them one ounce of mercy.

“Hey assholes.” All three wolves turned their heads toward him. He wondered at their level of stupidity, as they hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge his warning howl or his presence until he’d said something.

Immediately, the gray and red wolves shifted to their human forms. They looked like damned kids barely in their twenties, and while he felt sorry that he was now going to have to kill three of his kind, he understood that it was something that couldn’t be helped. None of them held the despair in their eyes that the lycan from the other night had—the one he had hope for. No. These were too far gone for reformation, and it was his duty to do what was necessary.

He hated killing, but the thought of these punks getting their hands on other potential mates made him sick. If he hadn’t found Rose now, they would have either killed her or taken her, and he most likely would have never seen her again. How many other lycans had been deprived of their mates because of the actions of these rogues? Crippling despair tore through him.

“Who the fuck are you?” The red wolf, who was now a red-haired punk, snarled at Knox.

“I’m your worst enemy, boy, and that there is my mate.”

“She’s got the scent. That makes her fair game to all of us. If you want to join in on the fun, you’re more than welcome. Otherwise, I’d get out of here before you get hurt.” Red Hair spoke again while the man with silvery hair, who had shifted from the gray wolf, inched toward him.

Knox growled and took a menacing step toward them while keeping an eye on the black wolf still too close to Rose for his comfort. He wanted to rip them to shreds—would rip them apart—but he had to be careful for Rose’s sake.

“You obviously have no idea who you’re talking to. Either that or you have to be the dumbest motherfuckers I’ve ever met.” Knox noticed the men’s eyes widen when the idiots finally realized he was partially changed, and now understood what exactly they were up against.

“Yeah. I’m an ancient, and I’m going to tear your balls off and make you eat them for touching my mate.”

“Ancient or not, there’s three of us,” Silver Hair taunted, but now the cocky confidence the pup had exuded only seconds before was laced with fear.

“You really are dumb motherfuckers, aren’t you?” Knox snorted. “It wouldn’t matter if there were ten of you. You young pups don’t stand a chance against me. So let’s get this party started, shall we?”

The words had barely left Knox’s mouth when the black wolf jumped at him, jaws snapping, going for his neck. At the very last second, Knox twisted and brought his claws up in one smooth motion, ripping the wolf’s stomach open from throat to ass. Blood and guts spilled on the floor, and he knew the black wolf would not recover. He turned to the two men still standing where they’d been before their friend attacked him.

“Two to one now, boys. Who’s next?” He raised a brow and smirked, mocking their stupidity outright.

A soft murmur distracted Knox, and he turned to find Rose awake and propped up on her elbows, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open, probably in shock. His heart thudded in relief at knowing she was okay, but suddenly Red Hair—catching Knox off guard—clocked him one in the face that sent him careening backward, and Rose cried out.

“No!” She tried to crawl toward him, but the silver-haired punk grabbed her.

Knox quickly recovered and blocked the next blow from Red Hair. He drove his palm into the man’s nose, satisfied by the resounding crunch and blood spray. The rogue yelped in pain, but recovered quickly and came at Knox once again. Knox dodged the charging pup, grabbed him by the head as he sailed past him, and twisted. The popping bones and instant slump of the rogue’s body were testament that the pup’s neck had been broken. He let the dead wolf’s limp body fall to the floor.

Knox slowly turned to see Silver Hair still had Rose, but now he had her back pulled up against his chest and held her in a choke hold. Knox clenched and unclenched his fists, claws digging into his skin of his palms with each flex. The need to get to her, to protect her at any cost was so overpowering he almost fell to his knees.

“Look.” He spread his arms wide. “Take me, but don’t hurt her.”

“You think I’m that big of an idiot?” Silver Hair practically screamed. “I let her go, and you kill me. I don’t let her go, and you’ll kill me anyway, so I might as well cause you some suffering before I die.” He tightened his arm around Rose’s throat, and her face turned red as she struggled for her next breath.

“You’re right. I’ll kill you either way, but if you let her go, I promise to make it fast. If you hurt her, I’ll make you pay slowly and painfully.”

The rogue’s eyes flared with fear, and his arm relaxed a fraction. Rose’s hand inched up to her waist, and

Knox’s heart nearly stalled in his chest when he realized what she was about to do. He had no way to stop her as she slid the dagger from its hiding place under her shirt. With one enviable, quick-as-lightning motion, she flung her hand backward, and the dagger embedded in the lycan’s chest to the hilt. Silver Hair screamed in fury and punched Rose in the face.

Knox watched in horror as she flew backward and hit the wall hard with a thump before crumpling in a heap on the floor. He jumped on the rogue and broke his neck as he had Red Hair’s, then turned and ran to

Rose. His claws retracted, along with his fangs, as he bent and trailed his hands along her legs and arms, checking for broken bones. He tilted her head back and sucked in an angry breath when he saw the deep purple bruise already marring her cheek.

He’d failed her. He’d let his guard down, allowed her to escape, and had arrived too late to adequately protect her. It was his fault she had gotten hurt.

* * *

Rose started to regain consciousness and cringed when the throbbing in her cheek, jaw, and head made her wonder if she’d been hit by a freight train. When she could finally open her eyelids, she thought she might be hallucinating, as Knox was kneeling in front of her.

“Knox?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me.” He stroked his long fingers over her aching face. Somehow, his touch soothed the battered skin instead of bringing her more pain.

She’d never thought she’d see him again, and her heart fluttered with joy. Not only because she’d be dead if he hadn’t come, but because she’d . . . missed him. She flexed her jaw and moved her limbs one by one.

Thankfully, nothing felt broken, but she hurt like hell.

When she’d seen Knox partially changed, he’d been a terrifying but wondrous spectacle to behold. Had his anger been directed at her instead of the other lycans, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to keep her composure about her. She’d been awed that the rogues hadn’t immediately realized the danger they faced.

She’d never seen a lycan partially change, hadn’t known it was possible. Still, instinctively she’d known that the others didn’t stand a chance against him and wondered why they hadn’t figured that out sooner themselves.

His long claws, fangs, and glowing eyes had been both awing and terrifying. She wished that they had been alone so she could have examined him closer, and found it comforting, if not a little unsettling, that she hadn’t felt any fear—not from Knox anyway. The other lycans she’d been terrified of, but she’d been one hundred percent positive that Knox wouldn’t hurt her. The fury she’d seen burning in his eyes had been the result of her being in danger.