Tank by Mating Season Collection, Ronin Winters

Chapter One
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    S he was struggling in his arms, a wildcat, all flailing limbs and nails raking against his flesh and brown hair brushing his face as her head whipped around, and it was turning him unbelievably the fuck on.
    Tank sucked in a breath, which was a stupid move since all it did was let her scent float through him, hitting the pleasure centers of his brain and making it damn hard not to bury his face into her neck to breathe it deeper.
    He grit his teeth. Damned fucked up, stupid timing for finding his true mate.
    Her elbow hit his stomach, and more in fear of her hurting herself than doing anything to him, Tank wrapped her in his arms to stop the struggling, which proved she wasn’t a fighter since she had no idea how to break the hold. She was still screeching and wriggling against him, and whatever smelling her started, the feel of those amazing curves against him finished, because his body was now primed to claim its mate. He was hard and ready, and he already saw it in his mind, her on her knees, head resting on her arms as she screamed out her pleasure as he plunged into her.
    Bringing every bit of control he ever had to the fore, he gritted his teeth and spoke low in her ear, not allowing himself to scent her any more than he had to. “Listen to me. Are you okay? Where’s Beth? I heard yelling. I’m a friend of hers and Regan’s and Steel’s.”
    She stopped struggling but her body still held onto the rigidness of flight or fight. She looked at him over her shoulder, and damn if she wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, with eyes so big and blue that even under dim streetlights their color was clear. “These dogs started chasing us, and she told me to run while she held them off. She’s still back in the alleys behind the buildings.”
    Everything in Tank was screaming not to leave his mate, that it was too dangerous and she wasn’t aware of the dangers of their world and couldn’t protect herself. But Beth was facing down wolves by herself, and there was no scent of rogues here. Tank stomped down the desire to take her and run that was even now rising within him. Releasing his hold and stepping back, he said, “You stay here. I need to get Beth.”
    Her hand came out in reflex, landing on his arm. “You need a weapon.”
    “Got one,” Tank said, leaving before she could ask for details and refusing to look back at her, because if he looked back, he wouldn’t be able to walk away.
    It took only a minute to see Beth surrounded by three dead wolves, splashes of blood over the side of the building and on the alley. She was curled up in a darkened corner of a building, her arms around her knees and her eyes wide and scared and fixed on one of the wolves. “Beth?” Tank called out, soft as he could so not to startle her.
    Beth’s head reared and her gaze now went to him. “Another wolf,” she said, answering the unasked question. She breathed deep and seemed to come back to herself as she rose from the ground. “He never shifted to human, so I don’t know.”
    There were too many overwhelming smells here, so whoever this other wolf was, friend or foe, Tank couldn’t get anything to help find out. “You hurt?” Tank didn’t see any injuries on her, and the shake of her head confirmed the visual once over. Not physically hurt, but she had a scare, and so did… Tank swallowed hard, his mind now going back to his new-found mate. “Your friend? She know anything? Anything happen to her I should know about?”
    He tried to keep his voice casual, but one thing about Beth, the same thing that could be said for Regan – they picked up on things real quick. A lingering fear still held on in Beth’s eyes, but it was shoved to the side as a smug knowing started to take up space. “My friend’s name is Jess, and did you see something you liked? Something to do with the season, perhaps?”
    “Stahp.” Tank rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to show any other sign of discomfort.