Sawyer fought to open his eyes amidst a stabbing pain in his head and the misery of a thick, swollen tongue in a dry mouth. As he clawed up from the sluggish remains of sleep, he struggled to call up any memory that could clue him in to what had happened to him.

Had he been drinking again?

He pried his eyes open and looked up at his all too familiar bedroom ceiling. Obviously, he'd passed out yet again. Probably blacked out more likely based on the throbbing in his skull.

Fuck. He thought he was past this.

“About time you woke up.”

Sawyer's head jerked to the side, the pain tripling with the sudden move. He groaned and fell back against the mattress. “What the hell, Dante? I don't need a fucking audience to recover from a hangover.”

“A hangover, huh? Is that what this is?” Dante stood and paced forward. At the edge of the bed he looked down. “We found you passed out on the bridge with no sign of what the hell had happened. No one saw you leave and no one saw you return. That was yesterday. What exactly did you do? And what did you do with the woman? Creed said you told him she was coming back.”

Sawyer grabbed his head and willed his Alpha to shut the hell up. The pain, it was excruciating. He tried to recall how and why he'd drank himself to this state. He'd thought the worst of those days were behind him, but this felt like being back at square one with twice the pain to go with it.

"Shit. I can't remember a thing." After the fire, there had been many mornings like this. He'd wake up with the hangover from hell and no memory of how he'd gotten there. Just a raging headache and residual pain from the scaring that wouldn’t fully heal.

But square fucking one? Why now?

“I sure as hell hope you were celebrating a successful mission. What about the FBI lady? She hasn't been seen since yesterday. How were you able to get her to leave the island so quickly? Did she wrap up her investigation after all? Or did you use something else to satisfy her?” Dante's last comment came out on a snort.

But it was his second reference to a female...

A jolt of fear sliced through Sawyer's body with the force of a lightning bolt in the middle of a rare summer storm.

Penelope.

Memories flooded into his mind in a forceful, excruciating rush.

Everything about her had gotten under his skin. Her reluctant smile, or more often her need to bite her lips to hide a smile. Her curiosity too. Even her sensitivity to his personal questions. Especially when he asked about her panties.

That red blush that crept up her face looked sexy as hell. It made him wonder where else she blushed.

As his mind wandered through the memories of meeting and connecting with the sexy FBI agent and the single kiss they’d shared the night before, his blood went cold.

Everything came back, making him jump from the bed.

“What's wrong?” Dante's features sharpened and his eyes turned gold as his body went on alert, sensing a problem.

"I didn't drink a drop of anything last night." He growled. "I was shot with a fucking dart gun. And I was with Penny when it happened."

“What? Where? Was it hunters? Who is Penny? This had better not be about another town chick who can’t let go,” Dante warned.

“Yes, it was hunters. On the other side of the bridge.”

“And Penny is our new FBI friend? What happened to her?” Dante's voice came out hard and cold. They both knew damn well what had happened to her.

"Shit.” He rubbed his neck where they’d hit him. “They had to have taken her or worse. They got me with the dart before I could even get out of the car or warn her. Although why they left me alive I don't understand.” His skin began to itch as the familiar tingle worked up his spine.

Dante pulled out his cell phone and started punching numbers before he placed it against his ear.

"This is bad," he said. "Real bad."

Sawyer nodded as the wolf inside him grabbed for control. This situation was not as simple as Dante thought it was. He was about to lose it and when he did there'd be nothing anyone could do to stop him, short of killing him.

Dante was speaking into the phone, but Sawyer no longer heard the words. His head buzzed as he fought the takeover. His blood heated and burned him from the inside out. A sensation he hated more than ever since the fire, making the change to wolf more painful and traumatic than ever before.

"Yeah, they've got bait," he said into his phone.

Those were the only other words Sawyer caught before the wolf pushed past the last thread of his control. The muscles of his arms and legs stretched and the bones popped and reformed, forcing him to drop down on all fours.

"Stop! As your Alpha, I order you to stand down. Now, Sawyer!"

The human half of his brain somewhere way in the back of his head heard Dante's frantic order, but it was too late.

Any other time or situation it might have had an effect, but this time it was different.

Nature had given him one ingrained instinct that could never be denied no matter who or what tried to stop him and he had no choice but to succumb.

Still. He had to warn Dante what they were dealing with so he didn’t hurt anyone who tried to stop him. He turned his quickly changing head and looked up at the Alpha glaring down at him with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"Mate," he said, the word far more guttural than any human could understand.

However, in this case he was talking to a wolf who understood well the fierce drive now coursing through him. It was too late now. He would kill or be killed until the wolf got what he wanted. Simple as that. No one was safe.

Save the mate.

Those were the only words left in his mind. That instinct had been strong during the fire when he'd felt compelled to save Creed's mate, but that was nothing compared to what he felt now. This bordered on insanity as he lost control. It didn't matter that they weren't yet linked by blood, this need went deep into his bones. Maybe even his soul.

If he'd thought the hunters had gone too far before, this fury boiling through his veins transcended beyond every bit of anger and fear from any he had experienced before.

"Shit!" Dante put the phone back to his ear. "This situation just went sideways. I think the FBI chick might be Sawyer's mate."

Sawyer snarled and snapped at Dante, his transformation to the wolf now complete.

"Oh, I don't know," Dante continued. "Maybe because I have a killer wolf standing in front of me about to take my head off if I don't get out of his way."

He hesitated, listening.

"Yeah, I'll follow him. Just get your asses up here. We're going to need lots of backup."

Dante pressed a button and set his phone on the counter slowly. While Sawyer instinctively knew it was good for his Alpha to move slowly when dealing with an agitated wolf, it did not settle him down when the man hidden inside knew that Dante would try and ‘handle’ him.

He peeled his lips back from his teeth and growled low and loud, making sure that the other shifter understood this was his final warning to get the hell out of his way.

The fact Dante stood between him and the door only bought so much time.

“Chill out, dude. I'm going to open that door before you do something stupid like attack me, but not until I'm ready to. We're going to do this together.”

Sawyer growled again. He didn't like that idea, but if that's what it took to get the job done, so be it. He dipped his head while still growling and sat down on his haunches, giving his Alpha about thirty seconds to get this done.

"Better," Dante said, toeing off his boots and reaching for his belt buckle.

This time Sawyer whined and turned his head. He did not feel the need to watch the Alpha undress in front of him. He had no problem with nudity, but at his wolf height he'd be eye to eye with his—

“You should have told one of us about the situation with the FBI lady. If she's your mate that certainly complicates everything. The pack needs to figure out how to handle that. This isn’t something to handle on your own.”

Sawyer turned his head and snapped his jaws. The pack didn't get to decide his fate in this. He loved the pack and Devils Point, but he was talking about a mate. That rare, mythical creature no one fully believed they would find.

They could go fuck themselves.

If he wasn't feeling the fury of the wolf, maybe he could look at the situation objectively. Maybe. He swung his head. Nope. Doubtful.

As it was, he could barely think. Except about Penelope. Her scent filled his nose even though she was no where nearby and had never been in his house. He pictured her curves barely camouflaged by her non-descript black pant suit. Hell, even the click of her no nonsense ridiculous looking shoes filled his ears.

"I better not catch you looking at my ass," Dante warned.

Sawyer yipped. He had no time for fun and games. As if he'd be caught dead looking at his ass.

Then the sounds of bones popping and the heat of muscles stretching filled the small room and he knew Dante's wolf now stood behind him. The larger wolf would normally be able to contain him, but not today. Mating instinct fueled him now.

When he turned, he realized that Dante had managed to open his front door without him noticing. Spying an escape route was all it took for him to take off at a dead run. He didn't care whether Dante followed him or not, although he knew that he would.

Nothing would stop the fury of the wolf.