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“She’s stable.” Seth was finally able to speak as he ran at a near crouch. “Bruising, scratches and some swelling; nothing’s broken. He hit her in the back of the head, possible concussion.”
“We’ll keep her stable till Doc Morrey gets here.” They eased to the clearing leading to the house.
“Jonas is perched at the top of the house with his rifle,” Callan informed them. “We move in hard and fast to the house. Keep moving. God forbid one of you go down, stay down, don’t move until we can drag you out,” he ordered the unmated Breeds.
Jonas’s voice came over the link. “Move out. You have a clear field.”
They made it across the clearing, the Breeds rushing them into the back of the house as the guests gathered around, shocked, concerned, ignored by Seth as he ran to the back stairs and up to the second floor and his suite.
She needed to be in their bed. Wrapped in the scent of their bodies. She had to know she was safe.
God help him, how could she ever feel safe in his care again?
CHAPTER 17
Consciousness didn’t return in a rush. It came slowly, the sound of voices rising from the mists of her own screams and the brutal dark eyes staring down at her.
When she felt the prick on her arm, the knowledge that a needle had pierced her flesh, awareness flooded into her brain. Her hand s
hot out, her fingers clenching around a slender neck, tightening.
Her eyes jerked open, but her senses were still dazed, her vision hazy.
“Dawn. Let the doctor go.” A hard hand slid over her wrist, not gripping, just touching.
Seth’s touch.
She blinked, letting her fingers loosen slowly as she felt her hand cradled in his and her vision slowly cleared to see Dr. Morrey standing over her.
Ely’s face was pale, her dark eyes worried as she drew back the hand and the hypo-syringe she was using.
“What is it?” Dawn questioned the injection groggily.
“Just something to clear your head.” Ely coughed slightly, a hand lifting to her neck as she massaged the reddened skin. “I didn’t expect you to have the strength to react so quickly.”
Dawn blinked drowsily, feeling the effects of the tranquilizer still in her system as her gaze sought Seth’s. He was sitting on the side of the bed next to her, his eyes dark, anger and concern swirling in the cloudy depths.
“Did anyone get him?” she asked.
Seth shook his head, his jaw tightening. “He got away.”
“Moira?” She was almost afraid to ask about the Irish Lioness.
“Unharmed. Groggy but coming out of it quickly.”
Dawn turned her head to stare at Dash where he stood at the other side of the bed. Callan stood beside him, silent, his golden eyes flaming with the intensity of his fury.
“Good.” She turned away.
“Dawn, don’t turn from me,” Callan growled.
She turned her gaze back. “I have put my body in front of your mate’s to protect her,” she whispered hoarsely. “You led mine into danger and ordered me back.” She remembered that, distinctly, clearly. “What happened to you, Callan? Once, long ago, you would have never betrayed me.”
It hurt, that knowledge. Knowing that he had done the one thing guaranteed to force Seth out of her life ten years ago had been bad enough. But now, this time, he had led Seth into danger.
“Callan doesn’t control me, Dawn. Don’t ever imagine that’s possible.” Seth’s voice was hard now, cold. “And the next time you put your ass out there like that I’ll paddle it.”
She turned back to him, her responses still slow as she frowned. “I’m trained to.”
