Violet.
Broken. Bloodied. Barely breathing.
My heart stopped, then roared to life with a fury I couldn't contain. She was lying there like a discarded thing, her hair matted with blood, her limbs twisted unnaturally. My vision blurred, but I didn't need to see clearly to know the scent that clung to the air—hers. Pain. Fear. Blood.
I gathered her in my arms, and her body collapsed against mine—limp, fragile. Her head lolled against my chest, and for a horrifying moment, I couldn't feel her breathe.
"No. No, no, no," I murmured, pressing my ear to her lips. There it was. A shallow breath. Faint, but there.
My hands trembled.
She was alive.
Barely.
A growl ripped through my throat, primal and feral, shaking the trees around us. I tilted my head back and roared. The forest answered with silence, even the birds afraid to challenge the rage of an alpha with his mate nearly torn to shreds.
