Spell-Weaver by Angela Addams

don’t function on command,” Summer said as she followed Mayhem, his impossibly broad back like a wall, his expression completely hidden from her.
    â€œIt’s not your symbols that will do the trick this time,” he said, his voice gruff, strained from the worry she’d seen when she’d first arrived.
    â€œIt’s not?” She had to practically jog to keep up with him, his long strides eating up the plush carpeting like he was running on a motor.
    He stopped abruptly at a closed set of double doors and she nearly ran into him, coming up short and on her tiptoes. He laid his hand on the knob, cocked his head to the side to glance at her.
    â€œYou’re his mate, destined to be with him. I know you feel it. I can sense your need for him.”
    â€œHow…”
    He raised his other hand, his action commanding. Now she understood what Dave had been talking about. Mayhem commanded, you obeyed. In the wolf hierarchy, he had to be the alpha. “His wolf seeks its mate. You are its mate. I’m hoping that by having you near, the wolf will let Dyami come back.”
    Summer glanced at the door. “Are you telling me that there’s a wolf inside that room?” Her heart slammed against her chest and she took a step back. A wolf, behind closed doors, in a bedroom. How civilized.
    â€œNot just a wolf. Dyami.”
    â€œYou don’t really expect me to go in there alone, do you?” She shook her head. She’d seen the wolves. They were huge. What if Dyami wasn’t in control at all? What if the beast was feral, pissed off that she’d run?
    Mayhem captured her chin in his massive hand, forced her to look into his eyes. What she saw there was not anger, but firm resolution. “I am certain that you can unlock Dyami from his beast. It is my job to protect my pack. Dyami is suffering. It’s unnatural for the cycle to be disrupted as it has for him. He needs you. Only you.”
    Summer gulped.
    â€œThe wolf will not hurt you. Ever.” Mayhem released her chin and turned the knob, opening the door just a fraction. “Trust your gut, Summer. As a Huntress, it will never steer you wrong.”
    Dyami felt her and he knew it wasn’t wishful thinking this time. His wolf was powerful, rebounding from the poison with so much force that Dyami had been shoved back…hard. He’d only been able to resurface briefly, sporadically and was still too weak to fight for control. A concept he’d never known before, having never had to battle with his wolf over form, the transformation had always happened naturally. Daytime was the wolf’s time—nighttime his. This was his time, and yet he was not in control, hadn’t been for a very long time. And with each passing day, it felt like his grip on himself was dwindling. Like if he didn’t regain what he’d lost, he’d be lost forever.
    The only conversation he’d had with the beast had been stunted, not making a lot of sense other than to show an all-consuming need to get her back. The wolf was taking a stand, sending a message, acting purely on instinct and yet trapped in a world of roads and cities and distances too vast to travel without detection. So he was sending a message to whoever would listen. Bring the girl or Dyami is no more. Harsh. Critical. Effective, apparently, because she was here.
    His wolf caught her scent wafting in from under the door, a growl of approval rumbling low in his chest. He stalked off the bed, having been sequestered that day for demolishing something breakable in the house. Mayhem had not approved. His wolf had complied, despite the fact that he could have busted down the door at any time. Now that she was here, his wolf was agitated, desperate to see her. Her scent was like a taste on his tongue, one he wanted again and again.
    The door opened, a beam of light from the hall almost coming to where he paced. His wolf stopped, and Dyami pushed forward,