When I didn't react, he pulled his gaze away and backed off, then cocked his head, as if thinking. "You know, I'm sure I saw a video camera in the cabin. I'll go grab that. Don't start without me, okay?"

I watched him saunter away. And I was left alone… in the Alaskan wilderness, dressed only in a shirt, jeans and socks, tied to a tree and reeking of blood. That's when the panic began to seep in.

I pushed it back and concentrated on getting free. I didn't have a hope in hell of breaking the rope or the tree-both were too sturdy even for werewolf strength. As for undoing the knot, a smart cap tor-one with some experience at this-knows how to tie his victim's hands so she can't undo them. Tesler had bound my wrists with the backs of my hands together, meaning I couldn't get to the knots. Even if I could, my fingers were too numb to work properly.

I peered into the night. It was as dark and still as ever. When the panic flared again, I berated myself for it. Whatever Tesler had done with the girls, it hadn't been this. That much I knew. Animals have different sexual wiring than us, and while some humans may have an unhealthy interest in them, they don't return it.

Yes, if I died out here, there were plenty of things that would eat my corpse and scatter the parts, and I suspected that was exactly what had happened to those girls. Tesler killed them, then let something-maybe even our mystery beast-do the rest.

If he'd really staked me out to be raped and eaten alive, he'd have stayed to watch. No, he expected to saunter back in a half-hour and find of me huddled against the tree, gibbering with terror, begging him to rescue me. Instead, he'd come back and find empty ropes.

I tried rubbing the rope against the tree, but the bark was too smooth. So I whistled as loudly as I could, hoping Noah was close by. Of course, he wasn't. Long gone, I was sure.

For the second time in one night, I'd sacrificed myself to let a Stillwell escape, and though I felt better about doing it for Noah, I was still kicking myself. Yet as foolish as it seemed right now, this was what it meant to be Alpha-the kind Jeremy was and the kind I expected myself to be. It meant being willing to sacrifice yourself for Pack brothers who'd jump in to do the same for you first. Unfortunately, that last part didn't apply with Joey and Noah. So I was on my own.

I still had one trick up my sleeve-my biggest and best.

I took one long look around the forest, assuring myself I was indeed alone. Then I pressed closer to the tree, slackening the rope. I closed my eyes and concentrated on Changing. To do that, though, I had to shift my focus to my body. That's when I realized how cold I was. I couldn't feel my hands, couldn't feel my feet, my ears, my nose, my chin. The wind whistled through my thin shirt and pants and I shivered until I couldn't do anything except shiver, my teeth chattering, their clicking filling the silence.

A low whimper bubbled up from my gut. It was so cold, so damned cold. Frostbite was setting in, and if I didn't get warm soon, if I couldn't at least thaw my fingers under my armpits…

Then Change, damn it. Stop whining and Change.

I stumbled on my bound, stockinged feet, trying to inch behind the tree out of the wind, but the rope didn't have enough slack, and an eight-inch-wide trunk was a piss-poor windbreak.

I focused on Changing, but it wouldn't come. I couldn't even relax. It was too cold, too goddamn cold.

And what if I Changed and couldn't get free? Were my wrists bigger than my forelegs? What if I cut off my circulation, the ropes digging through fur and skin?

Stop thinking and Change. If the rope is too tight, you can gnaw through it.

I concentrated, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get started. I was battered, bruised and exhausted. I desperately needed to Change, and that very pressure made it impossible to relax enough to launch the process.

I tried retreating into a mental sanctuary and thought I'd managed it when the distant crack of a branch sent me flailing, too aware that there were things out there, winter-hungry things, and I was defense less and reeking of blood.

But as hard as I strained to look and listen, I could detect nothing. I settled into my inner place again. Then the tree vibrated against my back and my eyes flew open.

The tree shuddered again. I'm sure the ground did, too-I just couldn't feel it through my numb feet.

Something was walking through the forest. Something big.

As I gulped air, I remembered Tesler's words: it's curious, always sniffing around. I already knew that-whatever was in these woods, it was curious and it was dangerous, and if it found another predator-one that had attacked it before-staked to a tree and helpless…

When I inhaled, I caught the faintest stink of wild animal. Then a huge form reared up in the distance. Its massive head swayed. A wet snuffling cut through the silence as it sampled the air before dropping to all fours with a shudder even my frozen feet could feel.

The beast disappeared behind a barrier of bushes. The vibrations began again as it continued forward, slow and steady.

Change, damn it! Change!

But there wasn't time for that. If the beast came upon me mid-Change, I'd be even more defenseless than I was now.

Well, do something then. Just-

The creature reared, so close now I could see the brown fur, the rounded ears, the tiny eyes and the snub snout.

I was staring into the face of a bear. An ordinary, hibernation-groggy bear.

The first whoosh of relief didn't even make it past my lips before my brain screeched into reverse.

Just a bear? Just an eight-foot-tall, thousand-pound bear?

The bear snuffled, its piggy eyes straining to see me better. It dropped back to all fours with another earth-shuddering whoomph. Then it lumbered toward me, its massive bulk swaying.

"Go!" I yelled. "Shoo! Scat!"

Scat?

I whistled, and that got its attention. It reared up and grunted, breath streaming into the cold night air. Even from twenty feet away, the stink was enough to make my stomach flip-flop.

"Go! Scram! Shoo!"

I yelled and whistled, but it only peered at me through half-lidded eyes, part drowsy curiosity, part disdain, as if amused by this puny thing making so much racket. I'd always heard that if confronted by a bear, you should make as much noise as possible. It worked just fine on the little black bears I'd encountered in northern Ontario. But I was sure this guy was laughing at me. He sure as hell wasn't turning tail and running.

The bear lumbered forward, rocking like a boat on rough water, its nose working furiously. Every few steps it would pause, head tilted, as if trying to figure out the mystery of my scent.

When I growled, it grunted in surprise. I snarled and bared my teeth. That gave it pause, but only for a moment, before it kept coming until it was close enough to warm my face with its rank breath. Then it reared up, all eight feet of it, towering over me, and if my knees weren't frozen solid, I'm sure they would have given way.

The bear stared nearsightedly at me, its head swaying as if a better angle would tell it what I was. Its face lowered to mine, the smell of its breath making me breathe through my mouth.

I was trying to meet its gaze when a sledgehammer blow to my shoulder sent me sailing off my feet. I hit the end of the rope, arms jerking hard, feet tangling, trying to find purchase. Another blow knocked me off them again. I fell to my knees, bound arms raised, joints screaming.

The bear reared up, its roar thundering through my head. It raised a paw to hit me again and I tried to scramble out of the way, but there was no place to go, and it hit me in the side, claws raking through my shirt.