Wolf Hunted

by Sadie Moss

  Although I couldn’t taste the alcohol in the sugary drink, I was definitely beginning to feel it.

  My fingertips felt a little tingly, and my tongue seemed to be getting thicker. I had to think harder to make words, so instead of risking it, I didn’t talk. I just focused on the food and drink in front of me, letting the beat of the music infiltrate my body and soul.

  By the time I finished my burger, I was swaying gently along to the music. By the time I finished all the French fries, I’d picked up some of the lyrics and was singing along quietly. And by the time Jackson shoved another unclaimed burger in front of me, I picked it up eagerly, my whole body grooving to the pulsing beat.

  He watched me munch and dance happily for a few moments. Then he surprised me by plucking the half eaten burger from my hands and pulling me to my feet.

  “Wha—?” I blurted.

  “Come on, Alexis. If you’re gonna shake it, you need to really shake it.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, tugging me toward the dance floor.

  Oh shit. He wanted me to dance.

  With him.

  In front of people.

  I’d had plenty of solo dance parties in my room at Strand—which was just about exactly as pathetic as it sounded—but I’d never had reason or opportunity to dance in public.

  Nerves flared in my belly, and I reached for my blue drink for a dose of liquid courage, only to find it was already empty.

  Huh. I guess that must mean I already have all the courage I need.

  I let that thought bolster me as Jackson led me over to the small dance floor. A few other couples were already moving together in the dimly lit space. He spun me into his arms, and to my surprise, the alcohol I’d consumed didn’t make me as clumsy as I’d feared. Instead, it broke down my inhibitions, making my body feel free and loose as Jackson began to dance with me.

  And that goofy dance he’d done on the hotel bed earlier?

  That had been nothing.

  This man could move.

  He rolled his hips against mine, and I followed the motion, reaching my arms up around his neck for balance. My boobs pressed up against his chest, and I could feel the muscles of his back flex and contract. My head only reached his shoulder, and his musky, masculine scent filled my nostrils, the essence of him nearly overwhelming me.

  His hands found my hips, guiding me as we swayed and moved in synchronicity. The blue drink buzzed through my veins, eradicating any worries or fears.

  All that was left was the music. Jackson’s strong body. Bliss.

  This was definitely another first.

  We danced through one song, and then another. And with every passing minute, the fire burning underneath my skin seemed to flare a little hotter.

  When Jackson twirled me away from him in a spin, I threw my head back, laughing. A grin tilted his full lips as he watched me, something wicked flashing in his dark amber eyes. But before he could pull me back into his body, another hand caught my arm.

  “My turn.”

  West’s deep voice behind me seemed to rumble like thunder, and my body liked it. A lot. I leaned back into his embrace, my eyes still locked on Jackson. The exercise had worked some of the alcohol out of my system. My head wasn’t spinning, but I still felt like I was floating in a magical place where everything was beautiful and nothing bad could reach me. Where one gorgeous man held me in his arms while another watched me like he wanted to devour me.

  I could live here. I never wanted to leave.

  Jackson kept his gaze locked on me until West turned me in his arms, bringing all my attention back to him. One large hand splayed across my low back, pressing me close to him. His thigh worked its way between my legs, and as we swayed and moved together, little jolts zapped through my body every time my pelvis brushed against him. I clung tighter, letting the rhythm of the music and the pounding of my heart carry me away.

  His fingers tangled in my hair on either side of my face as he dipped his head, bringing our faces close together. Our heavy breaths caught in the space between us, and my lips felt suddenly cold and bereft.

  Kiss me! I wanted to shout.

  I wanted his beautiful, full lips on me more than anything.

  But if he kissed me, did that mean the others wouldn’t? That was traditionally how things went, wasn’t it? I wasn’t too familiar with the ins and outs of dating, but when one man staked his claim, that meant other guys either backed off or fought him for it, right?

  But I didn’t want either of those things. I didn’t want to come between these four men who had been through so much together that they were closer than family. And I didn’t want the others to stop looking at me the way they did.

  I didn’t want to have to choose.

  My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and West’s eyes tracked the movement like a predator tracking its next meal. But he didn’t kiss me. Instead, he slid his hands down my curves, so low on my hips they were practically cupping my ass, and hitched me closer against his body. The move made my clit grind against his leg, and a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan fell from my mouth, immediately swallowed up by the blaring music.

  We danced like that for another song, and by the time the music changed and West drew away, I was almost panting. He smirked, like he knew exactly what he’d done to me, and backed away slowly, jerking his chin behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Noah hovering at the edge of the dance floor, hands shoved into his pockets. Jackson and West were dancing solo now, but Rhys still sat at the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a stony look on his face.

  Whatever. Fuck him.

  Refusing to let the broody bastard pop my bubble of happy feelings, I crooked a finger at Noah, feeling more daring and reckless than I ever had in my whole life. He grinned and sauntered toward me, the lines of his body lean and strong in his blue henley and jeans.

  “I guess it’s true what they say.” He tucked a piece of my hair back, his fingers lingering on my skin. “Blondes really do have more fun.”

  I laughed, grabbing his hand and wrapping it around me as we began to move to the music. “You’re blond too!”

  “And I’m definitely having fun.”

  His cheek pressed against mine as he spoke in my ear, and goose bumps raced across my skin.

  Jackson was an energetic, sensual dancer. West was dominant and commanding. But dancing with Noah was different. It was like being worshipped. He moved me in time to the music, always touching me, always supporting me. In his arms, I felt safe and free at the same time.

  Finally, when my skin was damp with sweat and my head fuzzy with an overload of sensations, Noah pressed a light kiss to my hair and stepped away from me. I almost fell over. I’d spent the past who-knew-how-many-minutes wrapped up in the embrace of one of these powerful men, and my body had decided it liked the feeling way too much.

  Noah caught my arm with a low chuckle before steering me back over to the table. Rhys was still there, as stoic as ever. I collapsed onto a seat but popped up a moment later. Now that I was no longer caught up in a haze of music and lust, I realized I really had to pee. That blue drink had gone right through me.

  “Be right back,” I told the guys, then headed down a hall toward the bathrooms at the back.

  The women’s restroom was cramped and covered in graffiti. After emptying my bladder, I washed my hands in the too-small sink, staring at the face in the mirror. The woman with tousled blonde hair and flushed cheeks hardly looked like me.

  She looked… happy.

  I bit my lip, and she did the same, a grin tilting her lips. With a giddy heart, I stepped out of the bathroom, heading down the hall back toward the bar.

  As I passed the men’s room, a guy stepped out. He had red hair cut in a military style and a smattering of freckles across his face. I almost collided with him, and he reached out in surprise, steadying me.

  “Oops. Sorry,” I muttered.

  I hadn’t felt tipsy while I was dancing, but I was star
ting to feel the effect of the blue drink again. And I didn’t like it anymore. Instead of a comforting cloud of happiness, the world seemed distractingly fuzzy.

  Stepping sideways, I moved to brush past the man, but he mirrored my action, blocking my way again. I looked up, forcing my eyes to focus.

  “I saw you out there on the dance floor.” He smiled at me, revealing slightly crooked front teeth. “Actually, I think everybody saw you. You put on quite a show.”

  The burgers and booze churned in my stomach as a wave of unease washed over me. Shit. I’d gotten so caught up in the moment as I danced with the guys, I’d forgotten there was a bar full of people who could see us out there.

  “You like dancing?” He reached up to brush his fingers over my hair, and my heart seized in my chest. When Noah did it, the gesture was both soothing and intoxicating. But this man’s touch made my skin crawl. I didn’t want it.

  “Yeah. It’s okay.” I backed away a step, breaking our contact. His hand hung in the air for a second as he watched me, a sly smile spreading across his face.

  “Oh, come on. You’re not going to tell me you’re getting shy all of a sudden. I saw you out there.”

  He moved toward me, his large body crowding me down the hallway. I tried to slip past again, but his hand shot out to brace against the dingy wall, his thick arm blocking my way.

  I gritted my teeth, my gaze following the line of his arm up to his neck, and finally, to his eyes. He was several inches taller than me, but I glared up at him, anger flaring inside me. I didn’t like feeling trapped.

  “Yeah, I do like dancing. But not with assholes like you.”

  The leering grin didn’t leave his face. He trailed his free hand down my arm, sliding over to trace the underside of my boob. “Oh, come on, baby. You didn’t even give me a chance to convince you. I bet I can change your mind.”

  I knocked his hand away, my heart thudding hard in my ribs with a mixture of disgust and fear. “No! I said—”

  “Get. The fuck. Away from her.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The voice beside us was low and dangerous, full of so much rage it made goose bumps crackle along my skin. The red-headed guy and I both whipped our heads toward the sound. Rhys stood at the end of the hallway leading into the bar, his form seeming to take up the entire space. His head was tipped down like a bull about to charge, making his eyes look slightly crazed.

  “Yeah, all right, buddy.” The guy boxing me in laughed. “You want to dance with her too? You’ll have to wait your turn.”

  In three long strides, Rhys was on us. He hauled the man away from me with two fists wrapped around his shirt, slamming him into the opposite wall so hard the plaster cracked. The red-head grunted, coughing as the air was driven from his lungs. He swung for Rhys, aiming a wild haymaker at his head, but my dark protector’s arm flashed up, blocking the blow.

  He threw all his weight against the man, pinning him to the wall by his throat, a snarl curling his lips. “You don’t get a fucking turn. She’s ours. You don’t touch her. You don’t look at her. You don’t speak to her.”

  The man’s face went from red to purple, and his mouth opened and closed, seeking air he couldn’t get. He thrashed back and forth, swinging wildly for Rhys’s head again.

  This time, his blow connected.

  The punch landed on Rhys’s cheekbone, snapping his head to the side. I screamed, the sound pulled from me as my own body seemed to reverberate with the force of the blow.

  Rhys’s hands loosened, and the guy scrambled away. Slowly, Rhys straightened. As he did, I noticed something strange about his face. At first, I thought it was just the wicked bruise blooming near his eye, but as his features caught the light, I realized that wasn’t it. His face was… changing.

  Oh no. Fuck, no! He was starting to shift.

  A grunt fell from his lips, halfway between a growl and a moan.

  “What… what the fuck is wrong with you, man?” The red-headed guy retreated a few steps down the hall, his eyes widening.

  Rhys’s gaze snapped to him, an animalistic rage contorting his features. He leapt forward, teeth bared.

  “Rhys, no!” I grabbed onto his arm, trying to hold him back, but he shook me off.

  “Oh fuck! Rhys? Shit!”

  Jackson’s voice sounded behind me, and the next thing I knew, all three of the guys were there, wrestling Rhys away from the other man.

  “Rhys! Stay with us. Stay with us, buddy.” West grabbed his face, forcing the wild shifter to meet his gaze.

  But Rhys didn’t seem to be in control at all anymore. His skin rippled, as if the wolf inside were trying to forcibly break out. His chest rose and fell with rapid, panting breaths, and his teeth looked like they were lengthening.

  “We gotta get him out of here. Now!”

  The three of them surrounded Rhys, using their combined bulk to force him down the hallway. I darted after them, panic bringing an acidic taste to my mouth. Faces turned to stare at us as they dragged him through the bar, and then we were out the door, racing toward the street.

  “Cab! Get a cab!” Jackson yelled, searching the road for an oncoming vehicle.

  “A cab? In his condition? Are you fucking kidding me?” West barked.

  “What do you want to do, let him shift and run? You know he wouldn’t go back to the fucking hotel.”

  “Fine. Cab.”

  My head was spinning, but I understood that word, at least. A yellow car drove toward us, and I raised my hand frantically.

  The driver pulled over, and the guys practically shoved Rhys into the back seat. West took the front, and the rest of us piled into the back. I ended up sprawled awkwardly across Jackson and Noah’s laps, all three of us focused entirely on Rhys.

  His whole body trembled and shook. Droplets of sweat coursed down his face, and the large bruise by his eye morphed slightly as his body hovered on the edge of shifting. His lips were curled in a grimace, and his eyes still flickered wildly. He looked insane. Enraged. And in so much pain.

  “Rhys,” I whispered. “It’s okay. We’re almost there.”

  Unbidden, my hand moved up to brush the side of his face. If I’d been thinking more clearly, I probably wouldn’t have done it. Rhys had made it pretty clear he hated me, and given the state he was in, I was liable to lose a couple of fingers.

  But to my surprise, his body stilled under my touch. The feverish shaking stopped, and his piercing blue, wolf-like eyes met mine, locking me in their gaze. He continued to breathe raggedly through his nose, nostrils flaring, until the driver finally pulled up outside our hotel. Noah threw some cash at him before scooting out of the car. Jackson tugged me with him, and West pulled Rhys out of the back seat, supporting him as we walked quickly into the lobby of the hotel.

  Halfway to the elevator, Rhys stumbled, going to his knees. My heart lurched in my chest as a low groan fell from his lips. I joined West, grabbing onto Rhys’s other arm and helping to haul him up.

  Our room was on the third floor, but the elevator ride seemed to take a million years. Finally, it delivered us with a ding, and we stumbled along the hallway. Noah was ahead of us, already opening the door to our room.

  We burst inside, and a second later, the shift overtook Rhys.

  He tore at his clothes, shredding his shirt from his body as his bones shifted and moved. His pants ripped, falling away as fur sprouted and he dropped to all fours. A keening howl burst from his lips as his mouth transformed into a snout.

  “Jesus fuck.” West scrubbed a hand down his face, peering out the peephole into the hallway. “Turn the goddamn TV on. A nature show or something.”

  Jackson dove for the remote, turning on the TV and jamming the button to turn the volume up while Rhys continued to huff and howl as he shifted.

  When the change was complete, a large wolf paced restlessly in the confines of the room, padding around between the two beds and whining.

  This wasn’t the first time I’d seen a wolf in a hotel
room. But when Jackson and Noah had shifted for me back in Texas, I’d been able to sense them inside their animal forms. Now? I wasn’t sure Rhys was in there at all.

  “What… what’s happening?” I whispered.

  The expression on West’s face broke my heart. He looked defeated and exhausted as he watched his friend. He and Rhys were particularly close, I’d come to realize. They all were, but the two of them had a deeper bond somehow.

  “It’s not a perfect system,” he said thickly. “We were experiments. Byproducts of trial and error. Sometimes… the wolf takes over.”

  “Yeah, that’s what happens when people try to play god.” Jackson shook his head, anger and disgust in his voice. “They fuck shit up with no idea how to fix it.”

  “So he might—” I swallowed. “He might not come back? He could be stuck like that?”

  “Maybe.” West’s jaw clenched. “He’s always come back before. But it doesn’t help that he tried to hold off the shift. It just made his wolf more agitated.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “No. We just have to give it time.”

  I nodded, sinking down onto the bed closest to the door. Rhys’s wolf stalked up to me, a pained whine rising from his throat. He put his head on my knee, peering up at me with hypnotic blue eyes.

  Tentatively, I reached out and rested my hand on the soft fur of his head. The wolf closed his eyes, huffing a breath.

  Come back, Rhys. Please, come back.

  That night, my dreams were a confusing mishmash of images.

  The woman I’d thought was my mother smiled serenely at me while skinning a dead wolf.

  Doctor Shepherd held up the cure I’d waited so long for before smashing the vial against the smooth marble floor.

  Hospital hallways streaked by as I was wheeled down endless corridors, pinned helplessly to a gurney by thick leather straps.

  Long, vicious needles injected poison into my bones, forcing them to crack, break, and reform.