A vicious, debilitating fear clawed at his insides, raked at his throat, and settled on his tongue, thick and metallic. His wolf froze, rooted to the spot by raw shock.

“Stay back!” ordered the woman near the door, shakily pointing a brown paper bag at Mila while her manic eyes danced from person to person. A bag that had a fucking hole the size of a bullet in it. “Stay back or I’ll shoot her again!”

Rosemary. He almost didn’t recognize her. She’d dyed her hair black and had it permed into tight curls. She looked a little like Mila. His Mila. Who the bitch had fucking shot.

Even though Mila had slapped her hand over the wound, blood still bloomed and stained her shirt right above her heart. How that heart was still beating, he didn’t fucking know. But it wouldn’t beat for much longer. No one could come back from such a fatal shot to the chest without medical help. No one.

Mila was conscious, her eyes hard on Rosemary, but her face was creased with pain. Shit, he needed to get to her. Needed to stop the bleeding. Get a healer. Something. But he couldn’t fucking move while that bitch was still aiming the gun at his mate.

He sensed that Rosemary would shoot her again without hesitation. Would think nothing of pumping another bullet into Mila. And then he saw it—exactly what his life would be like without his little cat. Felt the taste of the empty, cold, pointless future that lay ahead of him if he didn’t fucking do something.

“Time to go, Dominic,” said Rosemary.

The words jolted his wolf out of his shocked state, and the beast let out a mournful howl edged with pure fury. His heart pounding like a drum, Dominic took only a single step forward. “Put the gun down,” he told her, marveling at how steady his voice was.

“I saw pictures of you with her,” Rosemary spat. “She’s in our way. She needs to die.”

“And you shot her. No human can survive a wound like that.” Luckily, Mila wasn’t human, but Rosemary didn’t need to know that. “So you don’t need the gun now. Put it down.”

She licked her lips. “We have to leave. You and me. Now.”

She really thought they’d just walk out of there? Every male in the room was ready to pounce on her. Hell, Mila herself would probably give it a try. What’s more, Tate, Luke, and the enforcers were outside the door, ready to barge in. But no one would make a move while Rosemary was aiming that gun at Mila. If Dominic could just get her to point it elsewhere . . .

“Look at me, Rosemary,” Dominic ordered, because her attention had drifted back to Mila, her eyes filling with hatred. “Look only at me.”

Rosemary’s brows drew together. “Why are you still over there? I told you, we have to go.”

“Go where?”

“Home. We’re mates. You don’t believe that now, but you will. We just need time.”

His eyes darted down to Mila. More blood had stained her tee and was now pooling beneath her. Fuck. A chill invaded him all the way to his soul, swept across his skin, and lifted the hairs on his nape and arms. His wolf tugged at the reins, needing to get to his mate.

“I’m not real comfortable going anywhere with you while you have a gun in your hand, Rosemary,” said Dominic. “Put it down.”

The bobcat edged ever so slightly toward her, and Rosemary’s gaze snapped to him. “Get back!” Finger flexing on the trigger, she glared at Dominic. “If you don’t leave with me right now, I’ll shoot her again. I swear it!”

His gut in knots, Dominic forced himself not to move. “You trust me to get that close to you without trying to grab the gun?” he asked, hoping she’d point it at him to ensure her own safety. Her eyes narrowed, dancing from him to Mila, and he knew she was weighing whether she should turn the gun on him or not.

Fighting the urge to close her eyes, Mila swallowed hard. She was so cold. Tired. Heavy. She kept her hand on the wound, but it was hard to keep up the pressure when a terrible weakness was pulling her under. The blood just kept pouring out of her, no matter what she did.

Her chest felt like it was on fire. As if hot sulfur was bubbling within the wound, and it burned like holy freaking hell. Each rise and fall of her chest sent fresh jolts of pain rippling through her.

Her cat was furious, wanted to surface and pounce on the human with the gun. Mila couldn’t have shifted even if she’d wanted to. She was weakening fast, and the need to sleep was pulling at her.

With the little energy she had left, Mila whipped up her leg and kicked at Rosemary’s hand, sending the gun flying out of her grip. Stars burst behind Mila’s eyes and a blazing, crippling pain seized her chest and rolled over her in waves that made her stomach curdle. She breathed deep, but her vision blurred. Faded. And then the lights went out.

Adrenaline spiked through Dominic as the gun went skidding along the floor. Everyone moved at once.

Dean grabbed the handgun as Rosemary made a dive for it.

Evander tackled Rosemary, taking her to the floor.

The door swung open and a large number of people poured into the barbershop.

Archie and Dominic went straight to Mila, who’d promptly passed out.

Crouching at her side, Dominic’s stomach lurched—she was so pale and pasty; sweat beaded her upper lip and forehead. “Baby,” he whispered, his voice as shaky as his hands. Cursing, he put pressure on the wound. God, there was so much blood. His wolf paced and raked at the ground, seething, panicked.

“We need a healer in here!” Archie yelled, his face set into a mask of alarm. “At least the bullet went straight through,” he said to Dominic. “She wouldn’t be lying in a puddle of blood if it hadn’t.”

Now that he could see the exact location of the wound, Dominic couldn’t understand how the fuck she was still alive. “How is her heart still beating?” It was weak and irregular, but it was there.

“She has isolated dextrocardia,” said Archie. “Her heart is on the right side.”

Dominic’s eyes fell closed. Something so simple had saved her damn life.

Helena knelt beside them. “You can move your hands, Dominic. I can heal her.”

Dominic didn’t move an inch. Just watched as Helena laid a hand on Mila’s shoulder. As usual, the air went static. He faintly felt a crackle of healing energy work its way through Mila.

“It’s all right,” Helena told him. “She’s fine now. Just weak and tired from blood loss, so she may sleep awhile.”

Lifting his hands from the wound, he saw that it had closed. “Thank fuck.” Dominic scooped Mila up and held her to him, breathing her in. His eyes stung, and the back of his throat hurt. His wolf pressed against Dominic’s skin, nudging her, wanting her to wake.

Her parents rushed over and made a fuss, stroking her face and kissing her hand even though she remained unconscious, but Dominic didn’t let Mila go. Couldn’t. He needed to feel the reassuring weight of her in his arms or he’d lose his fucking mind.

Hearing a pained cry, he flicked his gaze to the corner of the shop. Luke had detained Rosemary, the fucking bitch, pinning her wrists behind her. She was writhing and spitting insults, but the male held her easily while Tate and the enforcers examined her gun and questioned her.

Dominic tightened his hold on Mila and stood just as her Alpha approached. “I’m getting my mate out of here.” He needed her to be someplace safe.