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He kept his alpha wolf senses sharpened as he quietly stalked along the riverbank and glanced off to his left, his gaze lifting beyond the treetops to the arch-shaped towers that rose beyond them, and the sensible part of him said to head that way, towards civilisation.

The cautious part of him warned to keep his distance.

He was a stranger in a land of fae, and he doubted they would welcome the intrusion. The few fae he had questioned in Geneva about the faerie realm had warned him to forget his mission. When he had told them that he couldn’t, that this was a matter of life and death—that his one true mate was in danger—they had said it would be his death but had reluctantly told him what they knew.

But none had been able to tell him where he might find the nymphs who had snatched his wee witch the moment he had found her.

He tilted his head back as he reached a broad clearing where the grass and flowers had grown tall enough to reach his knees and his step faltered.

A castle.

The ivory fortress towered atop a cliff, stones shimmering in the warm glittering light. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, with towers that speared the high walls at intervals, their conical roofs made of dark blue tiles. On the other side of the wide river, atop another steep cliff, a smaller palace stood. A bridge connected the two, spanning the deep canyon the river cut through on a thunderous roar.

The few people he could see were blond. Nymphs? Or fae? He couldn’t be sure from this distance.

He focused his wolf senses and pulled down a deep breath, attempting to catch Hella’s scent, but the smell of water and flowers were too strong, drowning out everything else. He huffed and kept walking, gaze scanning the building now, seeking a way to it that wouldn’t draw attention to himself.

A figure suddenly plummeted into view, falling from one of the highest ivory towers.

His stomach plummeted with her when he noticed the colour of her hair.

Blue.

Hella.

His heart thundered, hammering a painful, hard beat against his ribs as he stood immobile, shocked by the sight of her and struggling to process what he was seeing. She flipped and fought her short black dress with bound hands.

And hit the water feet first.

MacKinnon kicked his boots off and dove into the water, swam hard with the current and fought to keep his head above the surface as he was swept along. The water was colder than he had expected, sapping his heat, but the adrenaline that spiked his blood as he saw she hadn’t emerged yet was enough to keep him going, had him kicking harder, desperately propelling himself towards where she had struck the surface.

He dove the moment he reached it, legs pumping furiously as he scoured the water for her. He grimaced as the current slammed him into a rock, knocking vital air from his lungs, and gripped it and shoved off. The river had to be at least thirty feet deep. Where was she?

There.

She tumbled head over heels, legs flailing, and he wanted to growl when he saw her hands were still bound. What the hell had the nymph been thinking? Why take her and push her off a tower?

His heart lurched as she was smashed against a boulder and spun away from it, her actions growing weak and sluggish. He kicked harder and reached for her, stretched his arms as far as he could and tried to grab her.

He missed.

Godsdammit.

He growled, releasing precious air, grabbed the nearest rock and pressed his feet to it.

And kicked off, shooting towards her.

Making one last desperate attempt to snare her.

Continue reading Craved by a Wolf if you like: 

• Fated Mates
• Enemies-to-Lovers
• Over Protective Hero
• Alpha Wolf Shifters
• Sassy, Strong Heroines