Someone had the place surrounded. And it wasn’t them.

“Who the hell are you?” Bret demanded, glaring over at a small group of black suits in front of the gate. Bret could also feel a lot more eyes on him, and that fact made him more than a little uneasy.

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow as he signaled to his right. “Special Agent James Kingston.” He nodded to the two people beside him. “And this is Special Agent Kail Wells and Special Agent Jenna Oakland.”

With that, the man looked behind Bret.

“And you’re Travis Kameron, the Alpha of Crescent Ice.”

Bret could feel the other man’s shock and distrust but stayed still himself. What the fuck did the FBI want? And what unit were they with?

Travis didn’t answer but stepped up beside Bret, a few feet in front of him, signaling his authority. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded quietly.

Agent Kingston stared at Travis, the two men battling for a level of dominance. Travis won as the other man shifted his feet, but Bret had to give him credit. The agent didn’t back down his gaze.

“You’re here for Nikki Calhoun. We’re here for Edward, her husband. You take care of your end, and I’ll take care of ours.”

“We won’t protect you,” Travis warned grimly.

Bret knew what his Alpha was saying between the lines. They were there for one reason and one reason only.

To get Nikki before she was killed.

But not before I kill the bastard, Bret thought viciously.

“I didn’t ask nor do I want your protection,” James countered. “This is off the books, so what goes on inside stays inside, but I want that bastard locked up, alive.”

With that, the other man turned and disappeared around the mansion, followed by the other agents. Bret didn’t care where they went, as long as they stayed out of their way.

They didn't have a problem getting past the guards at the gate, and he struggled to see past the rage and fear that threatened his focus of his one objective—to get Nikki back and kill the fucker who had signed his death when he had taken her. Bret had given him the option. The bastard had rejected it. Now it was Bret’s job to send him to hell. Just because the FBI had decided to make an appearance and try to take the fucker alive didn’t mean it was going to happen.

Jumping over the bloody body on the steps that Travis had gotten to first, Bret didn't care about being quiet. His bear raging to get out, he used that strength and kicked the door in, the heavy wood shattering beneath the weight. Travis, Aiden, and Jackson behind him, they all ducked as more bullets flew, the heat singeing the fine hair on Bret’s bear-like features.

“Spread out!” Travis shouted. With that, the Alpha shifted and flew toward the guard at the base of the stairs. Screams filled the house as more guards fell beneath their fangs and claws. Jackson and Aiden shifted beside him and took off in opposite directions. Bret stood just inside the door, his senses focused on the fear that penetrated the walls of the mansion.

Nikki, baby, where are you?

He heard a faint scream and froze before dodging the bullets, still in his human form, and headed toward where he thought the sound had come from. He stepped into the empty kitchen, looking around frantically. The sound had come from beneath him but in this general direction. Hearing a different sound, he crouched down and waited, his eyes narrowed.

The agonizing pain took him by surprised and stole his breath. Shocked, he looked down and noticed the blood spreading across his shirt.

Glancing up, he spied Edward in front of him, a smoking pistol in his hand. He fired again, and Bret jerked, the pain spreading like fire across his chest as his back hit the doorframe. The pain grew, intensifying as he struggled to breathe.

He...couldn’t...breathe...

“You’ll die knowing what I’m about to do to the bitch downstairs,” Edward said darkly, cocking the pistol again. “Before I kill her, she will have a distinct definition of what pain truly is. She has no idea yet, but she will.”

God no. Nikki…

Bret shook his head as his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. Locking his legs, he fought the blackness, and his bear took over, the shift of his animal struggling to heal past the burning pain of his flesh. He had been shot before. Why did this time hurt so fucking badly?

He fell to one knee, his bear roaring in pain and fury.

Something was wrong. The fucking pain...

Edward froze, and his hand started to shake. “What the fuck are you?” Lifting the gun again, he took aim.

Bret expected the bullet, the pain to end it all. Instead, he watched as Edward’s face contorted. His body jerking, he fell forward, hitting the floor with a hard thud, the metal handle of the knife gleaming from his back.

Partially shifted, the world faded in and out, but through the haze, Bret saw Nikki standing behind Edward, naked and pale, blood running down her arms and legs as she wavered on her feet. Behind her stood the agents staring down at Edward’s motionless body. Bret heard one mutter and curse, and he almost tried to smile in satisfaction, but the pain sliced through him.

She was alive. That was all that mattered. Travis would make sure she was…

Before the thought could finish, his world went black.

Bret awoke feeling as if his body had been run over by a train. And then run over again. The rough sound of his groan woke up the slumped figure in the corner. Samantha jumped up and ran over to the side of the bed.

“Thank God, Bret! You had us worried sick!”

He fought to get the words out past his tight throat.

“How long…?”

It was hard to talk, but he swallowed past the thick lump in his throat and tried again.

“How long was I—?”

“Four days. It was close for a while there. It looks like the fucking bastard poisoned the bullets.”

That would explain the paralyzing pain he had felt, but he didn’t care about that. He was alive. He could only focus on one thing as her image flashed across his fuzzy mind.

“Nikki…”

Sam smiled down at him. “Nikki’s fine. She's been with you since we brought you back, but she was about to collapse, and she hadn't eaten anything, so we banned her once you were out of the woods.”

Bret sighed in relief and closed his eyes. Nikki was okay. She was alive.

“How is she?” he asked softly. He opened his eyes in time to see Sam lose her smile and something flash in her eyes before she managed to hide it.

“Don't lie to me, Sam,” he growled, struggling to sit up. Finally giving up, he collapsed back against the bed but kept his eyes on her.

Sam sighed. “Physically, she’s fine. A little beat up but healing.”

She was stalling, and Bret narrowed his eyes at her. It hadn’t been a lie, but most wolves knew how to skirt around the truth without actually admitting the truth, hence lying in a roundabout way.

Sam saw his look and caved. “She’s healing, Bret. Any woman having gone through what she has just needs time. Give her that time.”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but the subject was closed as Sam walked over to the door. “I’ll let everyone know you’re awake. Do you need anything?” she asked as she opened the door and looked back at him over her shoulder.

What he needed was Nikki, but he shook his head instead and leaned back against the pillow as she left the room.

Time. His mate needed time. His bear roared his objection to that, but he quieted the animal with a firm thought. Bret and his bear had never been the patient type, but if it meant having her for his mate in the long run, he would wait as long as he needed to.

Nikki walked through the woods, her boots crunching the leaves beneath her feet, lifting her face to the sky as the first rays of sun bathed the tops of the trees. For the first time in years, she didn’t have to look over her shoulder or expect the threatening shadow of her husband behind her. It was a new experience for her, and she didn’t know if she would ever get used to it.

It had been four days since the basement, four days since almost losing Bret forever, and yet the fear hadn’t left her—fear of something happening, and the smell of that fear still surrounded her. If she closed her eyes, Nikki could still see him, see the murderous enjoyment in his dark eyes as the knife came closer, slicing through her flesh with each glint of the metal.

The FBI had disappeared with Edward’s body, and according to Travis, a team of both the pack and their agents had cleaned up the crime scene. Come to find out, Kail was a shifter, a panther, hence the FBI team’s awareness of the Ice pack and their territory.

Shivering, she blocked it out and continued to walk toward the creek in the back forest, away from the activity of the house, away from the pleasantries of the pack members, and away from the temptation to be near Bret. She knew she loved him, but to risk it all again, so soon after... She didn’t know if she could, didn’t know if she was strong enough to take that chance.

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered out loud, her small voice carrying on the slight breeze that wafted through the trees.

She had caused so much trouble. It would probably just be better if she left. The thought pierced her heart. It was a decision she hated, and yet the more she thought about it, the more the decision made sense. Just because Edward was dead didn’t mean something else wouldn’t happen. His ring had been large, and it would be better for all involved if she disappeared.

She looked back toward the house and knew one thing for certain: no one would let her leave if they knew. So instead of turning around and heading back, she continued, moving farther and farther away from the house, away from the only family she had ever known.

Away from the man she loved with her whole heart.