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screen, stunned when the ball dribbled out of his glove and he glowered back into the camera as if he could see her, too, his eyes sharp and cool as frost. She recoiled, putting more distance between her and the TV.
    The man stepped off the pitcher’s mound, a dumbfounded expression narrowing his eyes. He bit his sensual lower lip. Had he forgotten himself and where he was? She suspected his air of befuddlement was unnatural, a condition foreign to such a dominant and confident man.
    A few moments later, he tossed a giant cream puff, the opposing batter squashing it in an instant. He raised his left arm as the ball shot back to him like a bullet. She could almost hear the stunning impact of horsehide and flesh as the ball barreled into his hand like a speeding locomotive. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at the screen in horror as the big, sexy male fell to the pitcher’s mound and rolled around in the dirt in apparent agony.
    His pain became her pain. Sickness gripped her at the hideous scene unfolding before her eyes.
    “No,” she whispered . “No, no, no, no, no ! ”
    She reached toward the television set, wanting to grab the male through the flickering screen and bring him toward her to hug him against her body and give him comfort. To heal him.
    Without warning, four wolves and a giant bear bounded into the room, howling and roaring as they skidded to a halt and slid back into their human forms.
    “Dear Sweet Luna,” one of the wolves shouted. “We’ve found them.”
    The man knelt beside her, grasping her hand in his much larger one. She flinched away, yanking her fingers from his steady grip.
    “Sweetheart, it’s me,” he murmured.
    She stared at the TV and the writhing ballplayer, even as the others swept up Garnet and bore her away.
    “Help him,” she mumbled, her gestures frantic as she pointed at the jumping images.
    “Help who?” The wolf looked around and then shook his head. “Amber, honey, don’t you recognize me?” Tears streamed down her rescuer’s face, and his voice choked. “It’s Chance.”
    “Chance,” she echoed. The word felt foreign on her tongue, but right at the same time.
    She tore her gaze from the TV and looked at the man crouching before her. He seemed familiar but…it had been such a long time. She glanced back at the small screen again. Emergency crews carried the baseball player’s broken body from the field.
    “Look at me, Amber.” The man kneeling next to her raised her chin with two light fingers. “It’s me, Chance. Your brother.”
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    Eight months later….
    The early spring sun beamed down on Amber as she reclined on the banks of Hidden Maiden Creek, part of the patchwork of fast-rolling streams winding through the Black Hills and feeding the extensive system of crystal lakes dotting Tao Pack territory. The gurgling rivulet, swollen with melting snow as it flowed over Shifting Tears Falls, had been a favorite spot before her captivity at the hands of Magnum Tao.
    The place held a bittersweet poignancy. The pleasure of complete liberty sang through her, but so many years had been lost. Sometimes she didn’t know quite what to do with her newfound freedom. Her brothers, Brick and Chance, often hovered, so fierce and set on guarding and protecting her and Garnet, they all but smothered their female siblings. Garnet accepted their vigilance, not quite ready to venture far afield on her own. But, to Amber, they sometimes felt suffocating.
    Out in the woods, the air still held the brisk bite of the fast-fading South Dakota winter, but clean and refreshing, too, the young season smelling of new life and the sun’s rays warming her skin.
    She loved it out here, deep in the forest where she felt most free, among the vast patches of pale-blue forget-me-nots, purple prairie crocus, and pert black-eyed Susans ready for plucking. Other wildflowers struggled to emerge from winter’s tight bonds and show off their raiment of oranges, yellows,