Pride's Pursuit

by Cat Kalen

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  After defeating her master and releasing the enslaved shaders, Pride, Logan, Stone, and the rest of the pack return to the Canadian mountains only to discover a village in chaos. Feeling responsible for the carnage, Pride is determined to show the world exactly who the monsters really are.

  When her pack refuses to let her fight alone, Pride and her team set out to change mankind. But when her leadership is tested and a traitor emerges, not only must Pride pick between the two boys who love her most, her choice could either help put an end to war on the shaders or it could endanger the very existence of her kind.

  Chapter One

  The fire has been burning for days, the savage blaze devouring everything in its drunken path. Wild, angry flames lick the star-studded sky as plumes of smoke form an eerie haze over the waxing moon, turning the night an ominous shade of red.

  Chalky ash falls from the treetops like the winter’s first snow, and the scent of blood is so thick in the air it twists my stomach and clogs my dry throat. I wince as the bitter taste of death settles on the back of my tongue and burns my flesh like hot, molten silver.

  At the crest of this secluded mountain town there are no fire trucks rushing to the scene of the crime. Without a team of brave firefighters here to extinguish the inferno, I fear it could go on forever.

  Hot panic is the first thing I feel. Anger is the second. It churns inside my gut, and the feral shader inside me turns vicious as she takes in the senseless chaos unfolding before her eyes.

  I breathe deep to move past the coppery tang of blood and smoke and that’s when I catch a familiar scent, one that reminds me of rotten eggs and car exhaust. My pulse drums harder in my neck while my brain weeds through the smells, shifting and sorting until it’s able to determine the true root of the odor.

  Gasoline.

  I give a hard shake of my head, my rattled brain struggling to come up with some plausible explanation as to who or what could have doused Logan’s village with fuel.

  Who discovered this secret town?

  I mull that over for a moment longer, and then suddenly my thoughts come to a screeching halt; the only reasonable answer lodging in my esophagus like a lump of day-old bread.

  “No,” I cry out, my breath coming quicker now, the world around me blurring in and out of existence while waves of blistering heat wash over my trembling body. As the fire sucks the oxygen from the air, bile punches into my throat, and it takes two locked knees to keep my legs from failing.

  My hackles spike and a deep howl rents the air. The low-pitch sound chases the flames up the mountain only to get lost in the thick underbrush. Acrid smoke stings my eyes and I blink against its toxic bite as I quickly assess the damage. My head jerks from left to right and the brisk autumn breeze fueling the flames whips my curls across my face.

  I push my hair from my watery eyes and try to gather my thoughts. But before I can settle the chaos bouncing around inside my brain like a puppy’s rubber chew toy, the shaders at my back bolt forward. A split second later—my father, Stone, Gem, and Sandy—the shaders who traveled to Canada with us disappear from my line of sight, four brave warriors charging headfirst into the inferno, leaving Logan and me alone in the bleak night.

  Even though I can’t seem to move my legs, can’t seem to follow them into the flames, the commotion pulls a reaction from my animal. Thick talons elongate, and her unchecked rage jumps a few notches, her animal instincts feeding off the dark destruction closing in on her. Deep inside she wails, clamoring to be unleashed. Her loud primal cry is a clear indication that she knows. She knows the person responsible for the destruction of Logan’s entire village.

  His entire family.

  That person is me.

  I might not have been the one to soak the village in gasoline. I might not have been the one to ignite the match that lit the town on fire, but I know this damage is my fault. I’m smart enough to understand this violence is a direct result of my escape a month ago.

  I have no doubt in my mind that the PTF officers—the Paranormal Task Force, men who shoot first and ask questions later—tracked me to this private village, a place where shaders live normal lives and take to the woods on shift night to avoid bloodshed.

  It’s the only logical explanation.

  My hands fist at my sides and my heart pounds as rage unfurls inside me. This wasn’t supposed to happen! None of this was supposed to happen. After freeing the pack of shaders trapped in our cruel master’s cellar, six of us fled the California compound together and traveled to Logan’s secluded home in the Canadian mountains with one purpose in mind.

  To live normal lives.

  But as I stare at the devastation, the complete and utter destruction of his community, I realize that as long as the PTF are out there, we’ll never be free.

  I want to scream. I want to cry. What is it going to take for them to understand that we’re not soulless predators?

  I swallow hard and my ears perk as dry tinder pops and splinters beneath the fiery assault, the sound reverberating off the distant, snow-packed peaks. But soon the noise is drowned out by the deep, tortured howl coming from the boy beside me—the selfless boy who crawled straight into my hell to save me from certain death. I never should have drawn him into my dark world. If I hadn’t accepted his help, then none of this would be happening.

  “Logan,” I say in a rush, forcing my heavy legs to move so I can go to him. “Logan, I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” There is a definite edge to his voice, one fed by pure desperation, when he whispers through clenched teeth, “But whoever did this sure as hell is going to be. I’ll personally see to it.”

  Looking hard and dangerously feral, he angles his head unnaturally. Flecks of pewter puncture the blue in his eyes as they lock on mine, but judging from his wild, distant stare, I get the sense that it’s not really me he’s seeing.

  The tormented look moving over his face is beyond frightening, and as I take in the tension in his normally relaxed posture, equal amounts of fear and worry slither through my bloodstream like a poisonous snake. The truth is, I’ve seen this boy beaten to within an inch of his life, saw the deadly fury in his eyes when he discovered my father was the man who kept him leashed, yet never have I been so afraid for him.

  Understanding his world is collapsing around him, I pinch back the tears stinging my eyes and touch his arm in an effort to bring his attention back to me.

  “Logan,” I say softly, knowing he may very well have lost everyone he’s ever cared about and right now needs me to be the voice of calm, not anger. I temporarily shelve the rage inside me—a rage that is prompting me to find the men who did this and tear their heads from their bodies—so I can focus solely on what Logan needs from me.

  “Pride,” he whispers and pulls me to him. His hold is fierce, his embrace so tight it forces out what little oxygen I have left in my lungs. His voice echoes desperately inside my head as he buries his face in my disheveled hair. His breathing is rough, labored, and I can feel his heart pound against my chest.

  “Pride,” he murmurs again, his voice shaking worse than his hands. I hold him tighter and can feel his enraged animal prowling restlessly inside him, urging him
to shade.

  To kill.

  “I’m here,” I assure him, pain stabbing my heart like a double-edged blade. I try to reach out to him mentally, to help soothe the dark distress eating him up inside. Despite our connection, I still can’t speak to him telepathically in human form, like I can with Stone.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” I say for lack of anything else, even though I know nothing is ever going to be okay again, especially if his entire family has been burned and left for dead.

  When his hands fist my hair, my fingers curl in his T-shirt. The chaos around us fades to a distant buzz, and as we cling to one another his warm familiar scent almost makes me feel safe. Almost.

  As I offer whatever comfort I can, I listen to his blood rush, and despite the urgency of the situation we stay like that for a long moment, until a hard voice forces us to separate. I step back, but my animal bristles, not wanting to break from Logan.

  “Pride,” Stone says, his deep guttural voice sweeping through my thoughts like the brush fire through the pines. I edge farther away from Logan, severing the connection as I turn to Stone.

  He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes clouding with savage emotion before he says, “Your father wants you.” Firelight illuminates his strong features as he speaks telepathically to me, as only true mates can do while in their human form.

  But now is not the time to be worrying about all the secrets that have been kept from me since birth, not when Logan’s world is falling apart around him.

  Stone inches closer, each step calculated, purposeful.

  Predatory.

  Fear shoots through me and the hairs on my nape prickle when I see worry tightening his features. His anxiety wraps around me like a lethal serpent and squeezes so hard I can feel my heart constrict to the point of pain.

  I suck in a sharp breath and try not to cough as my lungs fill with smoke. “What is it?” I ask, forcing the words past my lips so I don’t exclude Logan from our conversation.

  He takes another measured step closer and I can feel the warmth of his body as his knuckles slide along mine. There is something very primal and raw in his eyes as they study me darkly. A moment passes before he finally answers me.

  “We found someone. She’s alive.” His glance shifts to Logan, and for the first time I don’t see black hatred in his dark expression. And it’s that lack of hatred that has me worried.

  Stone straightens to his full height and expands his chest as he makes eye contact with Logan, the boy I gave myself to—body and heart—during the last full moon. I look at the two men who both want to be my mate, but before I make any decisions that will affect the rest of my life, I still have so much to learn about my past, my future, my family and my world. The only man who can help me find my way is my father.

  Stone’s forehead creases, the seriousness of the situation apparent in his expression. “You’d better come with us. She’s asking for you.”

  Logan’s eyes widen, a deadly tornado brewing in their stormy depths. “Who is it?” he rushes out.

  “I don’t know. She’s not talking.”

  Logan makes a step to go, but Stone moves in front of him to block his path. His actions appear threatening to Logan’s animal, and I draw in a sharp breath when Logan assumes a combative stance.

  With his body on edge, his every muscle tight, Stone searches the other boy’s face. A hush falls over us, even the animals scurrying from the fire go mute as the two alphas glare at one another, their gazes clashing in a silent battle of wills. With my pulse jackhammering, I tense at the strained silence, and watch, transfixed, wondering what Stone is trying to prove.

  But when he pitches his voice low and says, “She’s hurt pretty badly,” preparing his enemy for the horror he’s about to face, my heart squeezes in my chest. Stone might be a hard alpha, a trained killer who’s been caged and tortured his whole life, but deep inside he’s just a boy.

  One who is as lost as I am.

  Logan gives a curt nod and when Stone steps back Logan takes the opportunity to bolt forward. I immediately chase after him and stay close, keeping pace as the grief-stricken alpha makes his way to his village. But soon his long legs are covering a vast amount of ground and I’m unable to keep up. Stone lags behind and runs by my side, his shrewd eyes trained on my back. Watching me.

  Always watching me.

  Wind whips at my face as I steal a sideways glance at him. Speaking telepathically, I begin, “Are they all—?” But then I stop abruptly, unable to push any more words out. I don’t need to finish the sentence for Stone to know what I’m asking, anyway. Even without making a mental connection, he can read my thoughts and actions as well as I can read his.

  “I don’t know. We only found the girl and she’s not speaking.”

  I push harder, my feet slapping a steady beat against the hot road beneath me. Since we ditched our car long ago, not wanting to take a chance that my father’s vehicle could be tracked to Logan’s village, the final trek up the twisting mountain has to be made on foot.

  The noise of my shoes pounding on the ground echoes in the night and drowns out the hum of my heavy panting. Moisture breaks out on my skin, and my heart begins to beat so fast I fear it’s going to burst from my chest. But I don’t let that stop me. I can’t. Worry for Logan and what he might find prompts me to dig my heels in deeper. There is no way I’m going to let him face this senseless brutality alone.

  We breeze by an abandoned playground. The rusty hinges on the old swing set squeal like a wounded animal as it sways in the night breeze. My heart clenches when I think of the children, a community lost, destroyed by cruel men who fear what they don’t know. What they don’t understand.

  My steps slow and Logan’s hushed voice cuts through the chaos and reaches my ears as we approach a burned-out building. Before I push my way into one of the fire-ravaged structures, Stone catches my hand in a firm hold.

  My gaze darts to his and when his brow creases in concern, I note the ways his muscles are bunching, rippling along his shoulders and down his arms. His jaw seesaws from side to side, and I instantly brace myself, because I know that look.

  I know what it means.

  He inches closer, his body crowding mine. “I don’t think you should go in,” he warns.

  I give a fierce shake of my head and my teeth clamp hard enough to chip bone. “I need to,” I counter, and snatch my hand back from his tight grip.

  While I understand it’s in Stone’s nature to protect me, and I wouldn’t be alive today without it, he needs to understand that in the outside world, he can no longer be my strength.

  Looking rattled, he rakes his hands through his mussed hair and everything inside me reaches out to him, my heart aching for the tormented alpha and all he’s been through.

  “Pride…,” he begins, his voice a low, strained whisper as he makes a mental connection, and I instantly harden myself.

  Knowing it’s for Stone’s own good—the good of our kind—I tilt my chin and glare at him with stubborn determination.

  “This isn’t up for debate,” I say, my voice low, but unwavering.

  He glares at me, then understanding I’m not about to back down, he disengages himself from my thoughts and gives a resigned shake of his head. Still I know he’ll follow me.

  With that I turn and push a broken and charred door out of my way. It falls to the floor and the noise shudders in the unnatural silence. Instincts on high alert, I step inside and my taste buds are instantly assaulted with the stench of decaying charred flesh. My gut clenches and my animal howls in response, the smell so overwhelming that I have to breathe through my mouth to avoid choking.

  Pushing on, I carefully pick my way through burned debris, my feet falling mutely as I step over black beams and scorched floorboards. The house is dark, all but destroyed, the rooms lit only by the few orange embers still smoldering in the structure’s outer edges.

  With my senses guiding the way, I go deeper into the house, or at leas
t what’s still standing of it. The floor creaks and I fear it’s about to collapse beneath Stone’s impressive weight. He keeps close to me, so close I can feel his warm breath on my neck. We continue forward until I find the others in a room that once served as a kitchen.

  Dread takes hold when I see a badly beaten girl—one who is no older than me. Crouched on the floor with her back braced against a seared wall, her breath is coming in quick, labored bursts.

  Everything from the vacant look in her pale blue eyes to the way her legs are pulled to her chest, her arms hugging them tightly against her bloody body, warns that she’s still paralyzed with fear. The sour stench of her terror, a pungent mixture of curdled milk and spoiled meat, has the animal in me howling with rage, eager to seek revenge on those who did this to her.

  As I pull in the scent, allowing it to fuel my primal side, Logan kneels in front of her. Talking in soft, whispered words he carefully brushes her ragged hair from her face. My perked ears enable me to listen in on the hushed conversation.

  Not wanting to startle the girl I move in beside my father. I tilt my head to meet his glance, and when I do his dark eyes narrow in genuine concern. When my glance meets Gem’s I gesture with a nod to Sandy, who looks paler than ever as she rubs the small bulge in her expanding belly.

  Knowing that her growing child shouldn’t be exposed to any of the toxic fumes still lingering in the air, I jerk my head toward the doorway.

  Gem instantly understands my message and leads Sandy outside. Once she’s gone, I turn my attention back to Logan. Driven by pure instinct, I take a small step closer to him, my animal needing in the most desperate ways to support the alpha she mated with. But when I do, the girl flinches. Undisguised panic ripples through her, and she pulls Logan against her, shielding her body with his.

  “It’s okay, Nova,” he murmurs as he slides me a look that speaks volumes. While we might not be able to speak mentally, I know him well enough to understand what he’s asking of me. I give a tight nod and inch back until I’m once again standing next to my father. After giving Logan and the girl a generous amount of space, Nova relaxes slightly, but she still doesn’t ease her hold on the alpha.