And beside him, half-coiled and unmistakable in its red, yellow, and black bands, lay a snake—its head crushed beneath Ranger’s paw. Emily’s breath caught. He hadn’t attacked Lily. He had thrown himself between her and the snake. He had shoved her out of its path. He had taken the bite meant for her.
A sickening wave of guilt crashed over her so hard she swayed. “Ranger,” she whispered, sinking to her knees, her free hand trembling as she reached toward him. He had saved her daughter. And now he was dying for it.