Lucas'' scent hits me after I''ve already tried to murder him.

An unmistakable blend of the outdoors, of amber and campfire smoke, of something so uniquely mate that it draws me in even through the pain of our past.

It''s him. He''s here.

The knife clatters from my trembling hand as every muscle in my body goes lax with relief. I''d been so tense, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap, terrified of losing my life tonight. But now Lucas is here.

He came for me.

"Lucas," I breathe out, hope and prayer all in one, the sound barely more than a whisper. My entire body crumples, overworked in its stress.

He''s really here. I''m not dreaming. He''s not a hallucination. This is real. Real.

My mate.

My savior.

Strong arms wrap around me, drawing me in against an embrace both hard and warm, filled with assurance and yearning. His hands hold me as if I''m some tender, precious thing, going from my back, up to the back of my head, brushing gently against my hair.

He''s dropping kisses over the top of my head, against my eyebrows, then my eyes, whispering my name in a ragged chant before crushing me to him once again.

"Ava. Ava. Sweet Ava. You''re safe now. Shh, it''s okay. I''ve got you, Ava.

You''re safe now." His voice rumbles, vibrating his chest against my cheek. One hand cradles my head, the other runs soothing lines down my back.

I want to respond. I want to ask him why he''s here. To thank him for coming. To tell him how terrified I was. To explain everything. But only a choked sob comes out as all the emotions of the last few days takes over, gripping my body in a cold-fingered grip of horror and distress.

Tears pour down my face, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as I cling to him, as if letting him go means I can never see freedom again.

Lucas just holds me closer. "It''s alright, sweetheart. Let it out. I''m here now. No one''s going to hurt you again."

"Sir, we need to move," a shifter I didn''t notice murmurs from behind him.@@@@

The woods envelop us, the darkness broken only by the occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the canopy above. The humid summer air is heavy with the scent of earth and foliage. Our footsteps are muffled by the soft ground, but the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves betray our passage.

I can''t smell a single one of them, I realize.

These scent diffusers are amazing.

We move as quickly as stealth allows, weaving through the trees and underbrush. Lucas never falters, his grip on me secure and unwavering. I press my face against his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the reassuring strength of his arms.

I should probably tell him I can walk, but my entire body protests at the thought.

Time seems to blur as we navigate the labyrinth of the forest, putting as much distance as possible between us and the Blackwood territory. The only sounds are their controlled breathing and the whisper of the wind through the branches.

"Where are we going?" I ask, after what feels like hours. Lucas'' breathing has never faltered, even while carrying me all this while.

"White Peak," he answers, his words soft. "We have cars. From there, you''ll be taken straight to Westwood. I have to stay here—" there''s agony on his face as he says this, a spasm in his jaw, "—because we have business with Blackwood. But your safety came first."

I nod. I''ve learned enough to understand that this is war.

I''m not sure how it will all turn out, but I''m just grateful to be out of there.

"Okay. Can I use your phone?"

He looks confused, but slows down to grab it out of his pocket and hand it to me, unlocking it before he does so.

I immediately open his messaging app, trying not to read any of his message previews. That would be rude, after all.

But I''m startled to see Clayton''s name on one of the more recent conversations.

Fighting the urge to snoop, I type a message to Lisa, explaining whose phone it is and where they''re taking me.

It takes only a second for her to respond.

[LISA: I''ll meet you in Granite City.]