Pride's Pursuit

by Cat Kalen

  That he just might still be out there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cold floods me and fear has my hackles spiking. Logan’s hand captures mine in a strong, reassuring grip, and when I feel the incredible pull between us, my body absorbs the warm heat of his palm. As his supportive touch seeps under my skin, I angle my head to see him.

  “What is it?” he asks, his blue eyes darkening in genuine concern.

  I crinkle my nose and speak low. “I just… I think I caught his scent.”

  Logan inhales and pulls the morning air into his lungs. I watch his face as he deciphers all the smells, and I know I don’t need to explain who I’m talking about for him to understand.

  He exhales slowly and frowns. “I can’t catch it.”

  “I can’t anymore either,” I answer, and don’t discount the possibility that the scent came from one of the strays who killed the man still haunting my nightmares.

  “We need to get prepared,” my father says, and with that Logan and I both turn our attention to my father and follow him inside.

  Logan lets my hand go as we step into the mansion, and when we enter through the kitchen I see the others still seated around the table.

  We inch away from the others and I know my father senses my distress when he says, “We’ll need Gem with us, since her connection with one of the strays might prove beneficial, but Sandy and Blaze should stay behind.”

  “What if—”

  “They’re safer here. My men are on duty and there isn’t a stray getting through that gate.”

  But what about a shader?

  Worry spikes my blood pressure and I look at Logan, my eyes searching his.

  He nods and once again takes my hand in his. “I agree, Pride.”

  I toss that idea around in my mind for a minute before I concede half-heartedly. “Okay.”

  My father gives a curt nod. “Now that we all agree,” he begins, “it’s time to go hunting.”

  Something in the way he says “hunting” sends a dark shiver down my spine, because while I know we have to search for the others, I also know we’re up against two very dangerous, very different enemies.

  “What about Stone and Officer Sanford? How are they going to get back inside?”

  “They’re not,” he answers.

  While I’m not sure what he’s getting at, I don’t like the implication that we’re going to leave them out there to their own fate. I root my feet. “We can’t go without them.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” he says. “We need Sanford’s intel.” With that he pulls his phone from his pocket, and that’s when I realize he had the foresight to toss one to Stone earlier. “Were going to take the underground tunnels to get out of here and have them meet us at my safe house.”

  Catching me off guard he steps up to me and stares at me long and hard. His eyes are dark and full of an emotion I can’t quite identify when he pulls a strand of grass from my mussed hair. His fingers brush my cheek and his brows collide.

  “You’re so cold.”

  As I think about the chill that won’t leave me, Logan slides me a look and steps closer to offer his heat.

  My father tilts my chin to examine my features. His glance roams over me like he’s committing my face to memory. He attempts a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and that’s when I notice how desperately tired he looks.

  “It’s going to take some time for Stone and Sanford to return, so in the meantime why don’t you get yourself cleaned up, rest a bit, then get yourself prepared.”

  After I nod, my father says, “There are a few last-minute things I need to take care of,” and with that he punches a number into his phone and steps into the other room.

  I ease my hand out of Logan’s, and while I think a hot, sudsy shower is a great idea, I’m not sure I can bring myself to indulge in such a luxury when the others are in danger.

  I look at Sandy, Blaze, and Gem, who are all perched on their chairs and watching us with worry. “I need to explain the situation to them,” I say quietly to Logan.

  “I will. You go shower.” He tugs his grass stained T-shirt from his body and pulls a disgusted face. “I’m going to climb in once you’re done.”

  I open my mouth and Logan presses his finger to my lips to seal my protest. “Just go, Pride.”

  Less than ten minutes later, I climb into the shower and let the needlelike spray wash over my body. Even though I twisted the nozzle to hot, and blistering steam has taken over the room, it still does little to thaw the chill that has taken up residency in my body, freezing me to my very core.

  When I grab the soap and wash my body, I can’t help but think about Logan and when we washed the dirt from our skin in the hot springs. I remember the way Logan kissed my scars, the way he showed me I was beautiful, inside and out. I think about how lost and broken I was, and how he put me back together.

  My throat tightens and I hug myself, but there is nothing I can do to keep the strangled cry from rising in my throat. Knowing I need to get my mind on the mission and off my feelings before they get the better of me, I quickly wash my hair, turn off the water, and grab a big fluffy towel to wrap myself.

  After knotting it under my arm, I slide open the shower door, and when I see a familiar shadow stalking toward me in the steam-filled room, I gasp out loud.

  “Pride,” Logan says, his soft whisper so full of emotion and raw need that all the air leaves my lungs. We stand like that for a long moment, both staring at each other, then something else takes hold of us. Something neither of us has any control over.

  I’m not sure who moved first, but the next thing I know I’m in his arms and we’re gripping each other, clinging so tight that my lungs feel like they’re crushing beneath the weight. My heart is pounding so hard, the blood racing through my veins so fast, I’m sure every shader in the house can hear the frenzied rush.

  Logan tangles his hands through my wet hair and his hold is fiercely possessive as his lips hover close to mine. With my breath coming quicker, undisguised need moves over his face. “Pride,” he says again as his eyes fix on mine, and there is something so primal and raw in his voice that it shreds my defenses and has my animal howling with primitive need.

  “Logan,” I respond, and when his gaze zeroes in on my mouth, I run my tongue over my lips, starved for his kisses.

  His breath scorches my skin and when the scent of him fills my nostrils, everything I feel for this boy bombards me with the force of a thousand bullets. My body begins shaking, and as I become lost in the alpha holding me close I try to take a breath but find air harder and harder to come by. Driven by pure instinct, I go up on my tiptoes, answering the unasked question dancing on his parted lips.

  His chest heaves and when his soft mouth closes over mine a tortured moan lodges in my throat. At first his kiss is warm, soft, exploring, but when I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight—like it might be the last time I’ll ever get the chance—he deepens the kiss and pulls me impossibly closer.

  His body presses against mine and I can feel the tension in his muscles as his lips move over my mouth with such urgency, such incredible, mind-numbing need. Hunger prowls through me, but it’s a different kind of hunger, one that has nothing to do with food and everything to do with this boy. Losing all composure, I kiss him harder, and I can feel his muscles bunch beneath my fingers.

  Even though my thoughts are whirling out of control, I’m aware that his familiar touch and ravenous kisses are the only things capable of combating the ice inside me. This boy, and this boy alone, is the only one with the power to warm me.

  …the one you need might not be the one you want…

  As my father’s warning words ping around inside my head, I lock them away to consider later and instead indulge in this moment, this kind yet powerful alpha. I let his warmth streak through me, and when I open myself up to him, a low growl sounds deep in his throat. His fingers go to the knot in my towel and it slips away, leaving me naked, vulnerabl
e, desperate for so much more from him.

  “Pride,” he whispers, his glance moving over my trembling body. His eyes meet mine again, and the raw need—the love—shining in their stormy depths become my undoing. I reach for his pants and fumble with his zipper. His hand closes over mine to help, and a moment later we’re both standing before each other, completely bare, completely exposed.

  He backs me up until I’m pressed against the wall. His hands slide around my body and he easily lifts me. “Wrap your legs around me,” he murmurs, his ragged voice a soft command.

  I grip his arms and follow his orders. His hard muscles ripple beneath my fingers as I squeeze his hips with my inner thighs, opening my body to him. He shifts slightly, positioning his crown at my entrance, and I suck in a quick breath.

  “Hey,” he said, that one word soft, tender. “You okay?” His eyes search mine.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Tell me you want this, Pride. Tell me you want me,” he says, a new kind of desperation in his voice.

  I cup his face, look deep into his eyes, and say, “I want you.” Warmth settles inside of me because I know it’s true. I do want him.

  His lips find mine again and a cry lodges in my throat as he pushes into me, joining us as one. My sex clenches around him, and he rips his mouth from mine. He throws his head back and his soft growl reverberates through my body as he pushes all the way inside, giving me a part of himself as I offer him everything. I hold him tighter, raking my nails over his shoulders in a show of possession—an animal marking its territory. His heart pounds against my body, and our breathing changes as he powers into me, driving so hard and so deep I know he’s seeking more than just sexual relief.

  He buries his mouth into the hollow of my throat. The soft blade of his tongue on my flesh fuels the need inside me. Tension races through my veins and moisture breaks out on my skin. I need. Oh, how I need…

  “Logan,” I cry, tears pricking my eyes as emotions flood me.

  “I know, Pride. I know,” he whispers.

  He jerks his hips forward, moving urgently against my body. Pleasure races through me, and my throat tightens with the things I feel for this boy. My heart squeezes, because everything in the way we’re coming to together feels so good…so right.

  His mouth captures mine again, and when his tongue slips inside to play, my body begins to tingle. Logan takes me higher and higher, until I’m hovering over the precipice. I claw at him, overwhelmed by the sensation rushing through me.

  “Yes,” I whisper, knowing I’ve reached the end. A burn works it’s way to my core, as my sex clenches hard around his girth. Logan deepens the kiss and his body goes rigid as he joins me in release.

  We cling to each other like our lives depend on it, and I can’t help but think maybe on some level they do. When our breathing finally returns to normal, he shifts his stance and my legs slide to the floor.

  He continues to hold me tight and we exchange kisses for a long time. I can feel the erratic rise and fall of his chest before he breaks the intimate connection and inches back. He grips my shoulders and I watch his throat work when he swallows.

  “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much, Pride.”

  “Logan…,” I begin, my tight throat barely able to push that one word out.

  His voice lacks the calm steadiness I’m accustomed to and I can taste his tension like it’s my own when he says, “Don’t take any chances out there today, okay?”

  “You either,” I respond between labored breaths, and as I stare at him, and take in the silver shards darkening his eyes, I know he’s feeling the same thing I am. That something bad is about to go down—that we could lose each other forever. My fingers grip his shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him close. Keep him safe.

  I hear a strain in his tone and a new kind of worry in his eyes when he warns, “Promise me something.”

  My body tightens and while I would promise this boy just about anything, I suspect he’s about to ask for the one thing I can’t possibly give him.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Don’t put yourself in any danger because of me.”

  I give a fierce shake of my head, and my stomach clenches. “You know you can’t ask me to do that.”

  His nostrils flare, and there is an element of desperation in his voice when he says, “I am asking.”

  “Logan—”

  “If anything ever happened to you because of me, I just couldn’t…”

  “Then can I ask the same of you?”

  “No.”

  Apprehension curls through me and I pound on his chest. “How can you ask it of me when I can’t ask it of you?”

  He grabs my palms. “Because you can’t.”

  “That’s not an answer!” I cry out, the tension between us mounting as steam swirls around our bodies and raises both the temperature and anxiety in the room.

  “All right, then how about this,” he says pitching his voice low as he takes on a new approach. “How about because I love you with everything I have inside of me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re my mate, Pride, and I will die before I let any harm come to you.”

  When his words take the wind out of me, we both go silent and the potent look in his eyes when they latch on mine touches something deep inside me, something that I know there is no coming back from.

  “Okay,” I finally say, my voice a breathless whisper as the fight drains out of me. “Okay, Logan.”

  “Pride…,” he warns, his eyes glinting knowingly.

  “Okay,” I say again, and give that one word a little more weight as I force it past my lips.

  Shrewd eyes search my face. “Okay,” he says, and then exhales slowly. He drops his arms and with a jerk of his head he gestures behind him. “You have clean clothes on your bed. Go get dressed and I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

  I nod, simply because I can’t seem to find my voice, and slip out of the bathroom while Logan takes his turn in the shower. I hurry to my room, pull on the mishmashed clothes rounded up for me, and take a moment to compose myself.

  When I turn and catch my reflection in the mirror I take a long time to look at myself, a long time to think about the cryptic things my father has said to me over the past few days. As I think about family, bonds, destined mates, the delicate fate of our species, and the importance of preserving our kind, I walk around my room.

  I look out my window and scan for danger. When my glance comes up empty, I plant myself on my soft mattress and my stomach tenses when my thoughts turn to Stone.

  Worry for his safety in a world where he’s so incredibly lost reminds me that he’s in desperate need of my guidance, even though he says he doesn’t want it and isn’t about to change. It also reminds me of the raw, unchecked emotion in his voice when he said he could never let me walk out of his life again. But the truth is, I need him every bit as much as he needs me.

  When I left the compound, it was with the intention of finding myself and learning about my past before I could commit to a future. Even though I’ve only been with my father a short time, being here in this house and finding that picture of my mother helped me understand where I’ve come from. I might have the blood of a rogue running through my veins, but at least I now know I’ve come from love.

  And I embrace that truth and recognize that I was born out of something beautiful. I wrap my arms around myself and smile. It’s that one little thing and what it means to me that curls around my soul like a healing balm and helps me finally recognize where I belong in this chaotic, dangerous world.

  I draw in air and when I glance up to find Logan standing in my doorway, his blue eyes studying me carefully, I feel a new calmness come over me because after everything we’ve all been through, and with everything we’re all about to face, I suddenly know my place and the path I am supposed to walk in this foreign world. But what’s more important is I know who I’m supposed to walk it with.

  His smile is
tentative, unsure, and from his look alone I know he can feel the shift inside me. When his fresh clean scent swirls around me, I climb to my feet.

  “It’s time,” I say, but before I meet him at the door I grab the gun stashed under my mattress.

  Close to an hour later, after making sure Blaze and Sandy are both secure inside the mansion, we make our way to the mountaintop. We negotiate the dank underground tunnels leading from the estate, and soon enough I find myself standing with my father, Logan, and Gem outside the safe house at the peak of the mountain.

  I watch the slow approach of my father’s SUV and see Stone watching me through the windshield.

  Always watching me.

  When I meet his glance and see a bevy of emotions pass over his eyes, I know he can feel the shift in me every bit as much as the alpha hovering close at my side.

  Chapter Twelve

  The mood in the vehicle is somber as we listen to the hard voices coming through Officer Sanford’s radio. When the PTF relay coordinates and mention they’ll be sending out scouts before a full-blown attack, my dry throat cracks.

  Officer Sanford flicks off the radio and stares straight ahead. “The strays have taken over one of the mansions they’ve invaded. We need to move.”

  My father puts the SUV into gear and pulls onto the interstate. Silence ensues as we drive, each and every one of us lost in our own thoughts. I stare blankly out the window and lean my head against the backrest, but when the chemical scent emanating off the treated leather seat fills my nostrils it reminds me I’m sitting on dead animal flesh. My entire body stiffens.

  I continue to watch the scenery speed by, and close to an hour later, my father pulls off the highway. He takes a long, winding stretch of secondary road for a good thirty minutes before turning onto another path that will lead us to the lair.

  Before we reach the sprawling estate, we park the vehicle off the road. Since we’ll have to complete the last of the journey on foot, and try to approach undetected, we camouflage the vehicle in the trees and wait for complete darkness before stepping onto the shoulder of the road.