Shane almost opened his eyes to look for her, then forced himself to lie still, not betraying that he was awake. If they did have the paramedic, he’d rescue her along with himself. He’d escaped once. He could escape again. All he needed to do was gather information and wait for the perfect opportunity to make his move.
He assessed his physical condition. He had a splitting headache, thanks to the unholy combination of a recent concussion and a double dose of tranquilizers, and felt dizzy and slightly nauseated. The familiar pain of cracked ribs stabbed into his side every time he inhaled. But he didn’t seem to have any major injuries. He wasn’t at peak condition, but he could still fight.
He was covered with a blanket, so he risked tensing the muscles of his legs and feet. The paralysis was gone and he could feel that his panther was back, so the drugs had worn off. He could shift now— but they must know that. He wasn’t strapped down or chained up, which had to mean he was locked in.
Soft footsteps approached. He felt the body heat of someone leaning over him. A pair of fingers touched beneath his jaw, seeking for his pulse.
Shane grabbed the person’s wrist and twisted it behind their back. In an instant, they were face-down on the floor with him kneeling over them, holding both their arms in a joint-lock.
“Ow!”
Both her arms. She was face-down, but he didn’t need to see her face to recognize the paramedic. Her silky hair, small but sturdy body, and smooth skin were unmistakable. He’d have known her from touch alone.
He released her immediately. “Sorry. I thought you were an enemy.”
They were alone in one of those small rooms that he knew all too well. Two narrow cots. No other furniture. Sterile white walls. Sterile white light. One closed door leading out— that would be locked from the outside and reinforced with steel— and one open door leading to a tiny bathroom.
The paramedic scrambled up, her thick black hair swinging. “Sorry I startled you. I thought you were unconscious. I’ve been checking your vital signs every ten minutes since I woke up myself.”
“I know—” Shane began. Then she lifted her head, and their eyes met.
She’s the one, hissed his panther.
Shane felt like he’d leaped out of a plane and forgotten to put on his parachute. He was in free-fall, his heart slamming into his chest with a mixture of exhilaration and dread.
He had no doubt that his panther was right. The brave paramedic was his mate. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t realized it before. Sure, he’d been drugged then, his panther suppressed. But he still should have known. Of course this fearless woman was his mate. She was what he used to be— someone who’d lay down their life to rescue a stranger, without so much as a second thought. What other woman could he possibly love?
My mate, he thought again, lost in wonder.
This woman was his mate, and he hadn’t even thought he had one. She was the other half of his soul, and he hadn’t thought he had a soul any more, either. He loved her, and he didn’t even know her name. If he lost her, it would break him in a way he’d never believed he could be broken.
For the briefest of moments, he was happier than he’d been in years— happier than he’d been in his entire life. His mate was with him at last. It felt so right.
Then fear took over.
He’d spent ten years parachuting into combat zones, and his mate was in the closest place to Hell that he’d ever known.
“She’s the perfect subject for 2.0,” Dr. Elihu had said.
If Apex went through with that, they’d destroy his beautiful, heroic mate.
He had to protect her, but the last time he’d been here, he’d failed to protec
t anyone.
It was only because of him that she was here at all.
And if he revealed what she meant to him, it would be used against them both. The only way to protect her was to pretend that he didn’t care about her.
Shane didn’t let emotions get the better of him. He scared other people. Nothing scared him. He fought back against an intensity of love and terror that threatened to overwhelm him, ruthlessly crushing the feelings that would do nothing but compromise his combat fitness.
But the more he suppressed his emotions, the worse he felt physically. A stab of pain went right through his chest, like he’d been shot in the heart. Agony spiked through his head with every throb of his pulse. He broke out in a cold sweat. The room tilted around him, then started to blur.
“Put your head between your knees.” A familiar pair of gentle but strong hands pushed him into position. “Take a deep breath. Okay, good. Now take another. Good. Keep going.”
Shane breathed deeply until the dizziness faded and the pain eased.
Keep calm, he told himself. You can’t protect her if you’re not fit yourself.