The Savage Chief's Coveted Modern Bride

A massive shadow exploded from the tree line.

Jace moved faster than humanly possible. He was shirtless, his chest heaving. Fresh, dark blood was still flowing from the jagged wound on the side of his head where Eleanor had struck him. His steps carried a faint, almost imperceptible stagger from the severe concussion, but the sheer, unadulterated rage in his bloodshot eyes entirely masked the trauma. He pushed through the debilitating dizziness, his gaze fixed entirely on the wolves.

He didn't have his spear. He didn't need it.

He launched himself into the air and drove his bare heel straight down into the spine of the wolf closest to Eleanor. A sickening crack echoed through the trees. The wolf collapsed instantly, paralyzed, without making a sound.

The alpha wolf abandoned Eleanor and lunged at Jace's throat.

Jace let out a feral snarl. He didn't dodge. He reached out with both hands and grabbed the wolf's upper and lower jaws mid-air.

Eleanor watched in paralyzed horror. The muscles in Jace's arms bulged, thick veins popping against his skin. With a roar that tore from his lungs, he wrenched his arms apart.

The sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone was deafening. Jace ripped the alpha's jaw completely out of its socket.

A spray of hot, dark blood coated Jace's chest and face. He tossed the dead alpha aside like a broken toy.

The remaining three wolves didn't hesitate. They tucked their tails between their legs and bolted into the darkness, whining in terror.

The forest fell dead silent, save for Jace's heavy, ragged breathing.

He turned slowly. His blood-soaked chest heaved. His dark eyes locked onto Eleanor, who was curled into a ball against the tree, trembling violently.

Eleanor shrank back. She had hit him. She had run away. He was going to kill her.

Jace closed the distance in two long strides. He towered over her, blocking out the stars.

Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the blow.

Instead, Jace dropped to one knee. His massive, blood-stained hands reached out. He didn't strike her. His rough fingers gently, almost hesitantly, touched her arms, checking for injuries.

His eyes scanned the scratches on her face, the torn skin on her palm, and the dirt covering her clothes. The violent rage in his eyes melted away, replaced by a deep, agonizing panic.

Suddenly, Jace's gaze snapped to the ground near her leg.

The snake had slithered back. It coiled, ready to strike Eleanor's ankle.

Jace's hand shot out like a whip. He grabbed the snake right behind its head before it could move. The snake wrapped its thick body around his forearm, hissing violently.

Jace didn't even blink. He squeezed his fist. A sharp pop sounded as he crushed the snake's skull to mush. He casually tossed the dead reptile into the bushes.

He turned back to Eleanor. She was staring at him, her chest heaving, her eyes wide with shock.

Jace let out a soft, rumbling sigh. He reached out and used his thumb to gently wipe a smear of black ash off her cheek.

The extreme gentleness of the gesture, coming from a man covered in gore who had just ripped a wolf apart with his bare hands, shattered the last of Eleanor's defenses.

The adrenaline crashed. Tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracing hot paths down her dirty cheeks.

Jace looked panicked at her tears. He clumsily tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing a bit of wolf blood on her jaw.

Eleanor didn't care. She looked up at this massive, blood-soaked man. Fear and profound gratitude waged a violent war in her chest. He was savage, terrifying, and the very reason she was trapped in this camp. Yet, at this exact moment, he was also the only impenetrable barrier between her and a gruesome death. Logic screamed at her to keep her distance, but the primal, overwhelming instinct to survive crushed every rational thought. The terror of the wolves, the cold, the absolute isolation-it all crashed down on her. She lunged forward and buried her face into his broad, burning-hot chest.

Jace went completely rigid. For a second, he didn't breathe. Then, his massive arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against him. He buried his face in her blonde hair, inhaling deeply.

Listening to the steady, powerful thud of his heartbeat, Eleanor felt the first sliver of safety she had known since falling into this world.

Her exhausted body simply gave out. The darkness rushed in, and she went limp in his arms.

Jace caught her easily. He stood up, cradling her against his chest as if she weighed nothing.

Torches flickered through the trees. Amos and Clay burst into the clearing, spears raised, panting heavily. They stopped dead, staring at the massacred wolves and their leader holding the strange female.

Jace shot them a cold, warning glare. He didn't say a word. He adjusted his grip on Eleanor and began the long walk back to the tribe.