Chapter 6

John watched Nathan cradling Dana's injured body and fought the urge to take her from him. He'd heard of the animalistic need to possess unclaimed Lycan females. He'd actually laughed about it. As resident physician, he'd deemed himself above such a base need, even as he'd watched others succumb. After all, he'd met other unmated Lycan females, and while he'd felt at times a mild interest, he'd never experienced or expected anything like the magnetic pull Dana exuded.

His recollection of her from way back was vague. He'd left for university before she'd matured enough to be interesting. During his brief visits home, he'd heard about her from Nathan, and even more about her after she ran away. He'd puzzled about the girl who'd made his best friend fall into a funk after she left. He'd wondered what kind of golden pussy she had to make Nathan obsess about finding her again.

But now, faced with her and, even worse, after having touched her, he couldn't deny the draw. It didn't help that his wolf stirred restlessly in his mind and urged him to regress to a more primitive state, pushed him to want to shed his humanity and challenge his best friend and alpha over the right to claim the female. Or, as his mind slyly reminded him, as pack law permitted, share her.

Were he human, the thought of sharing a woman, any woman, with another man would have horrified him, sent him running. And the human part of him cultivated at their schools did recoil, but his Lycan side that had grown up in a polyamorous household didn't care. It wanted this woman no matter what. He'd heard the orgy stories from other mated groups, seen the movies. Hell, his own mother had shared her bed with all his fathers, sometimes at the same time-a mental image he blocked quickly. Group matings were a part of his heritage, and while he'd never actually thought he'd indulge, he no longer found himself so sure. Who am I fucking kidding? I can't deny the idea of watching and participating in a group fuck doesn't have its appeal. Well, so long as the other guys keep their body parts to themselves.

Of course, there were a few problems with his fantasy about sharing the golden she-wolf. One-Nathan had made it abundantly clear he'd never share, not after losing her all this time. And second, from what John had learned about Dana over the years from his friend's drunken ramblings, one of the reasons Dana had fled was to avoid being forced into a polygamous relationship. I wonder if, maybe with the right incentive, she'd change her mind?

Watching Nathan tenderly stroke her, seeing Kody's eyes in the rearview mirror tracking them, and inhaling more than likely her scent, John wanted to sigh. Ah shit. Not him too. Talk about a clusterfuck in the making.

The couple of hours' drive to the small airstrip was done in tense silence. Nathan had retreated into an uncommunicative shell. Dana slept, still drugged. Kody drove with one eye on the backseat. And John rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the headache caused by his clenched teeth.

Only once they stopped on the runway did Nathan snap out of it. "John, you're coming with me. Kody, you go back and meet up with the boys we left behind tracking. Even if they haven't found those bastards, get your asses out of there. There's something about this whole setup that stinks, and I'd rather have you back home protecting the compound than out here by yourselves. I'll send the plane right back for a pickup."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Kody replied with a grin and salute.

John hopped out of the truck and came around to take Dana from Nathan. Perhaps a little too eagerly judging by the dark glare his alpha shot him. John couldn't have cared less. Holding her again did strange things to him. There was arousal, which kind of shamed him given her battered state, but a surge of even stronger protectiveness swamped him, a desire to save her from harm. His wolf's need was more basic-mark the woman.

Not wanting to give her up too quickly, John strode away from Nathan, who gave last-minute instructions to Kody. John made his way to the plane. He moved gingerly up the rickety metal stairs, trying not to jostle Dana more than necessary, and went through the open door. The eight-seater plane wasn't quite as comfortable as the truck, nor were the seats spaced in a way he could sit without squishing Dana.

Not that he got to keep her for long. Nathan came pounding up the stairs with a growled, "Okay, asshole, hand her back."

John didn't argue, not with her injured and in the way. He handed her back and surveyed the seating dilemma.

"Do you think your buddy will care if I rearrange the seating?"

Nathan's eyes flicked over to the cramped seats and back. "If he has a problem, I'll handle it. Make some room."

John didn't have the same kind of brute muscle Nathan did, so he didn't bother trying to arm wrestle the offending seat out of the way. He took his boots to it-and didn't move the damned thing.

Nathan sighed. "Hold on to her again, and try not to cop a feel, would you?"

John happily obliged, snuggling her into him protectively while Nathan bent over and grabbed the offending seat and lifted it straight up and off the bracket that held it.

John frowned at him. "Why the hell didn't you tell me I had to lift it instead of trying to wobble it?"

Nathan grinned. "And miss watching Mr. Cool look like an idiot for once?" Nathan seated himself in the seat behind the vacated one and, with plenty of room to stretch out his legs, held out his arms for Dana.

John gave her back and headed to the rear of the plane for their luggage and his more extensive medical kit. Armed with a stethoscope, among other things, he derived great pleasure in saying, "Peel the blanket off so I can get a look." And horrible as it might be given the situation, John didn't just mean her wounds either. I'll probably burn in hell for ogling her naked body while she's passed out, but I never claimed to be a saint.