Victor felt her first, his heart and soul reacting and zoning in on her scent. Then he fucking saw her in the distance with his enhanced vision. Tasted her delicious aroma on his tongue, honey and wildflowers invading his nose and seeping inside his very being as he saw a tiny speck careening toward him in the distance.

“That’s her!” he exclaimed, Flint’s eyes squinting to see where he pointed.

“Are you sure?” Flint asked before shaking his head against Victor’s quick snarl. “Shit, forget that, of course you are.”

“She’s being hunted!” Victor could feel her fear as surely as if it were his own as he focused his powers to locate the danger. “Wolves and another . . . an Elf, but he’s no ordinary Elf . . . he’s surrounded by dark magic. Fuck! Come on, she’s in danger!”

She was on a direct route toward him until she seemed to stall, her feet stumbling for a brief moment and then she veered off the path and disappeared from his line of sight. “No!” he shouted, ready to increase his velocity but Flint’s hand snapped out to grab his arm, halting his legs from going over into his super-speed.

“Victor! You can’t. Not here in front of all these humans!”

Flint was right. Of course, but his Bloodmate was in danger! “She’s in peril, Flint!” Victor spat out as if that was all the reason he required for flying through Central Park like a blur and probably knocking everyone over in his haste.

“We’ll get there in time. We’re not far behind.” Flint’s voice of reason irked him, angered him but he knew he was right.

Throwing his friend’s hand off he continued to run, knowing that their group would already be creating a spectacle but he didn’t give a shit. His picture would be splashed across newspapers the world over very soon, his face was known and this was a rash move but he simply didn’t care one fucking iota. The only thing stampeding through him was reaching her and he’d risk his usual privacy that he worked so hard at keeping just that . . . private and away from the prying eyes of paparazzi that wanted a piece of one of the richest men on the planet. He was giving them one hell of a show today. Suzette would have his balls for the PR nightmare she’d have to clean up . . . again, he didn’t give a fucking shit. Although it wasn’t usually him making a spectacle of himself, damn, she’d freak when she found this out.

Seconds ticked by as he ran, Flint raising his voice to shout at people to get out of their way, surprised, shocked and scared faces turning to look at them before scrambling quickly to move before they barreled into them. Good, because he wasn’t slowing down for anyone. His throat constricted when a mother froze, hand on her mouth before she lowered to cower over the stroller she’d been pushing. Victor didn’t break stride, launching himself up and over, clearing both mother and child with at least two feet . . . her eyes wide and staring up at him as he glided over them before landing on the other side and continuing without breaking his stride.

“That was close,” Flint grunted roughly, obviously not amused. “What? You couldn’t swerve around?”

“Wasted seconds,” Victor growled. Surely Flint would know every second counted? If he didn’t he sure as hell did now.

“For fuck’s sake!” Flint waved his hand out ahead of him. “Ankle biters alert!”

“Don’t worry about them . . . we’re not going their way.” Victor saw the group of small children but he was already changing course and slowing his pace at the same time as using every one of his senses to locate threats and her.

Flint motioned his men to fan out, a finger to his lips as Victor moved forward, his friend asking quietly, “What’s the situation?

“Two Shifters, in beast form and that damn Elf, she’s on the ground but I don’t think she’s injured. She’s not moving though so I’m not sure why she’s not running.” He was confused. She was full of determination earlier. He’d felt her fire and resolve before so why was she giving up so easily now? It didn’t make sense.

Didn’t matter. All that did was that he got her out of there and took care of the threats to her safety as quickly, and quietly as possible.

“Just the two of us, Flint.” Victor side eyed him. “Have your men set up a perimeter and keep any prying eyes out, especially anyone with a fucking camera. I don’t want what I’m about to do posted online. Got that?”

“We’re in the middle of Central Park, boss!” Flint’s cheeks turned beet red, his voice low but his meaning clear . . . don’t be stupid.

“I’m going in there and those fuckers aren’t coming out,” Victor snarled. “You can stay out here if you want and make sure nobody else comes in. Either way I’m doing this.”

“Shit!” Flint shook his head before turning to issue orders to the men in low, sharp whispers.

Victor could wait no longer, cracking his neck he stalked forward soundlessly through the trees and bushes as he caught a harsh voice telling her to move or she’d be getting accosted by the Wolves. Oh, hell no. That wasn’t happening . . . not fucking happening, ever.

He pushed through the last bush, his voice calm and firm. “Stay where you are, baby. It’s going to be all right.”

The filthy Elf spun around, his dark tattooed face turning up, surprise in his eyes quickly followed by hate. “Who the fuck are you? She’s mine. I hunted her and caught her. The law of the hunt says she’s mine.”

Victor could barely restrain himself from ripping the little bastard’s tongue out but his eyes were drawn to her. She sat on the ground, surrounded by white feathers and a few dead doves, her hands on her knees, reverently holding the corpse of another bloodied bird. Its wing lay crumpled and broken, its head at an unnatural angle and her fingers were stroking the blood-stained feathers as if it were the only thing keeping her calm. The sight tore at his heart like a spear had pierced it, the pain dragging his feet toward her involuntarily with the need to pick her up and cradle her to his chest. He’d never felt such utter devastation as he did in that moment . . . her pain was his and he felt every cell in his body react to her as he watched her sit on the ground surrounded by bloodied white feathers. He could scent the blood of the birds, taste it on his tongue, feel the remnants of their terror as they’d died but above it all he could feel her.

It was the most powerful thing he’d felt in his very long life. It was almost overpowering, practically took him to his knees with the strength of her pull but then the bastard dwarf broke his concentration, filling him with hate instead of love.

“Stay away from her! She’s mine I tell you.” The Elf stepped forward toward her. “Go!” he ordered the Wolves who stomped forward, one nipping at her shoulder and sending pure and utter fury surging through Victor.

He knew Flint had his back but he wouldn’t need him. Not for two puny Wolves and an Elf, even if he was wielding magic. Unless he was extremely powerful, but Victor didn’t feel that from the miniscule being that appeared to be in the throes of a tantrum. Victor moved quickly, his speed and strength unleashed to attack the beast that dared to touch what was his. The Wolf felt his attack coming too late, his massive head turning to snap its jaws but Victor was faster, stronger and rage filled him so that he felt as if he was boiling from the inside out. He landed a powerful kick to the beast’s side, lifting it several feet into the air where his hand waited to latch onto its back to slam it back to the ground with such force that the crack of broken bones sounded loudly in the clearing as it left an indent in the soil where it lay. That wasn’t enough for him, not for the audacity of this mongrel for touching her . . . how fucking dare he!

“You touched her! I wish I had ten lifetimes to make you suffer for that, you stinking dog! But I don’t so this will have to suffice for now.” Raising his leg, he stomped down on its chest, using a mere portion of his power to hold the beast in place for a second before applying more pressure, its whines growing until he pushed harder, his boot disappearing inside the chest cavity to decimate everything within. It was over within seconds and the Wolf’s death did nothing to sate his anger for it daring to go anywhere near his Bloodmate, far less inflict pain on her.

His fury raging inside he felt the hold on his darkness loosening, soon it would be set free and he’d wreak havoc on anyone who he perceived as a threat to his honey and wildflowers beauty. His head snapped around and he knew his eyes would be burning bright crimson, a vision of death and destruction shining as he locked his hate-filled gaze on the Elf. “You’re going to be next and your death won’t be nearly as easy as that mongrel’s.”

“Now, now, Victor, why don’t we all calm down and I’ll take things from here.”

Victor cursed at the interruption as the last person in the whole damn world he needed to interrupt him stepped into view . . . Clarence Collins.