by Cathryn Fox
“What’s going on here? What is this place?” he asks. I remain hunkered beside the officer, my wolf ready to pounce should he make one wrong move against my father. While I don’t want to kill him, and ruin everything I’m trying to prove, I’m not about to let anyone hurt those I call family.
Not ever again.
“It’s a PTF playground,” he answers quickly, fully aware that what he says next could very well mean the difference between life and death for him. “They hunt for sport,” he adds, and juts his chin toward the young girl in the cage. “But I’m not part of this. Ask Pride.” As I process what he’s saying, the truth of what goes on in this place hits like a sucker punch. My breath escapes my lungs in a hiss as I think about this man’s warning.
“Don’t take on more than you can chew.”
Suddenly his words begin to resonate with me, a reminder that these men are monsters—cruel, ruthless humans who enjoy the hunt. As I consider that a moment longer, I suddenly feel foolish for coming here unprepared. In my quest to be more human I tamped down my wolf instincts when they were warning me of danger—warning me about Nova. A cold chill rushes through my bones, because while I know we’re all still alive, I also know things could have gone down a whole different way.
The officer’s voice drops an octave, the seriousness of his next question apparent in his tone. “What you really should be asking is, how do you know about this place?”
My father’s jaw clenches, and he angles his head to look outside. I follow his gaze and when he spots Gem and Sandy, Nova nowhere in the near vicinity, understanding lights a fire in his shrewd eyes. He turns back to the crouching officer, flecks of pewter glinting angrily in his eyes, and his body braces for battle.
“You’d better start explaining.”
The officer shakes his head and looks at the busted door dangling on one twisted hinge. When it swings wildly in the wind and cracks against the doorframe we all tense. The hunter carefully climbs to his feet and with his body on edge, his eyes fill with something that resembles unease as he glances at some distant spot in the woods.
“There’s no time. We have to get out of here.”
I breathe deep and my ears perk, listening for the sound of an approaching task force. Taking me by surprise, my father grabs a fistful of the man’s collar and picks him up off the floor. The man’s legs dangle beneath him, and I see my father’s sheer strength, that of a full grown wolf, long into his power.
He bares sharp fangs in warning and wets his bottom lip as he zeroes in on the man’s throat, a reminder to the officer that he could end his life before his next heartbeat.
“If I find out this is a trap and that you’re leading us somewhere you’ll wish I had killed you here and now,” he warns. “Because, believe me, if you’re working against us your death will be slow and painful. You have my word on that.” I reach up and touch my father’s arm and when I do his muscles bunch beneath my fingers. His back straightens and he adds, “If it wasn’t for my daughter, you’d be dead already.”
With that he lets the man go and in a heap of exhaustion, my father drops down beside me. I look closer and note the deepening of the lines around his eyes. That’s when I see how much that burst of energy, a show of former power, cost him.
The girl whimpers, and my stomach revolts when I look at her, the sight of her stuffed in that small cage tormenting my soul and enraging my wolf. Remaining in a crouched position I move away for the others. On my hands and knees I crawl across the scarred and dented floor, talking slowly, calmly, in the same soothing manner Logan once used with Nova.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you anymore.”
She sniffs, her big brown eyes watching me timidly, unsure, terrified.
Anger, fear, but mainly disgust creeps into my tone when I think about the men—these so called humans—that did this to her.
“Are you hurt?” I ask.
She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and gives a quick shake of her head. But then her nervous glance flutters to the officer.
I narrow my eyes, my throat tight with emotions. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she says softly and when she speaks I realize how young she is. Where is her family? Her pack? “It…it was others like him,” she whispers, and by others I know she means PTF officers.
I grab the lock to examine it and feel a burst of red as anger ambushes me. After a quick tug I realize it’s going to take a lot more strength than I have to break it.
“What’s your name?”
“Blaze,” she answers in a voice so low I have to strain to hear it.
“Hang tight, Blaze,” I say softly. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
I look around for something to jimmy the lock with, but Logan crawls in beside me and with one quick yank he tears the bolt clear from the metal cage.
An invisible band squeezes my heart as we exchange a private look, but no words need to be said for him to know what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling.
Eyes guarded and uncertain, the girl crawls from the cage, and the second she’s free from her tiny prison Logan and I help her to her feet. When her knees falter, her legs not quite steady after being confined for so long, Logan slips his arm around her waist to support her.
I turn to see the others, but when I search for Stone and my glance comes up empty, my heart lurches, blind panic filling me. When it occurs with dawning horror where he’s gone and what he’s about to do, air leaves my lungs in a rush. Despite what Nova did, despite how she set me up to die at the hands of the PTF, I don’t want Stone hunting her. I don’t want to be responsible for any more deaths than I already am.
A loud howl full of distress crawls out of my throat and I rip at my shirt, needing in the most desperate way to find him before the hunters catch him in their crosshairs. If he comes up against one, I know what will happen.
I know what he’ll do.
Returning to fight mode, my canines sharpen and somewhere in the distance I hear the others yelling at me, their voices echoing ominously in my head. Pain shivers through my nerves and I ignore their protests as my bones prepare to shift and slide into place.
“Pride, no,” Logan says, and it occurs to me that I’ve never seen his face so serious, never heard his voice so harsh when speaking to me.
As I drop to all fours, eager to shift, he moves in front of me to block my path and when I give a savage shake of my head, a warning that he’s not to stand in my way, I can hear the officer and my father exchanging dire words.
I turn to glare at them and that’s when the officer looks at me pointedly and challenges with an unwavering stare, “If you go, you won’t make it back. These aren’t the kind of men you can reason with.”
“He’s right, Pride,” my father says darting an anxious glance my way. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
When the full weight of their words cut through the chaos in my brain, panic invades my stomach and my pulse skyrockets.
“I can’t leave Stone out there. He’s in kill or be killed mode.” While I know he’s smart, I also know his survival instincts are strong, and he’ll do whatever it takes to survive.
Whatever it takes to protect me.
And that could very well lead to his death.
The officer doesn’t even try to soften the blow when he announces, “Then he’s as good as dead already. And there isn’t anything you can do to help him.”
As a fresh wave of silence envelops the cabin, my heart beats faster, confusion and anger hitting at the same time. Do they really think I’m going to leave Stone to his own fate?
With my stomach twisting and churning, my mind races, refusing to turn my back on the boy who would die for me. My wolf prepares, orchestrating her next move, because she knows what we have to do, and she knows I’m not about to let anyone stop me.
“I’ll go,” Logan says, his eyes glistening pewter fire as they meet mine. Before I can even digest what he
’s saying, he’s moving with purpose. Using predatory precision, he pounces out the door and a moment later he’s airborne. Without breaking stride, he leaves a pile of clothes in his wake, his body shifting and morphing into a powerful, streamlined wolf.
“Meet me at the vehicle,” is the last thing he says before he completes his shift and gets swallowed by the dark, dangerous night.
7
After hurrying back to the vehicle, everyone climbs inside, but I’m too antsy, too frantic to sit still. With a pile of clothes in my hands, I pace the dark forest, my ears perked for sound, my wolf ready to take chase should she need to.
I scour the dark woods and worry about Logan and Stone’s safety. There is nothing I can do to keep my anxious mind from conjuring up deadly scenarios, dangerous situations the two could easily find themselves in. As I fret and my imagination kicks into high gear, I hear the SUV door click open.
“It’s okay, Pride,” my father says in a hushed voice as he steps up to me. “Logan knows what he’s doing.”
Even though I know Logan is a powerful, skilled alpha, one who knows his way around the woods, my father’s words still fail to comfort me.
I flick him a glance. “Stone doesn’t. He’s reacting.”
While I know it’s not his fault, that he’s only doing what he believes he has to, I also know if he’s going to survive out here, he has to start evolving, adapting to the way things are done in the outside world.
Over the last month, Logan taught me all about survival, and after tonight I realize it’s now my turn to step up and teach Stone. Before he gets himself killed. Before he proves to the PTF that we really are bloodthirsty beasts ruled only by our survival instincts.
In the far distance a shot rings out and the little bit of food I have left in my stomach clumps together to form a heavy ball. Anxious and on edge, I wring Logan’s shirt with my fists and while I listen to the bullet whisper through the wind, I also listen for the sound of a fallen wolf.
“I should have gone after him.” My feet crunch dead leaves as I hug the pile of clothes to my chest, and when I spot a rabbit dart into the underbrush, it’s all I can do to keep my agitated wolf from taking chase.
I catch another sound in the near vicinity, and I brace myself, my ears perked as both my father and I stop to listen. With our wolves on guard, prepared to attack, I scent the forest, pushing past the pine, moss and moist earth as I peer into the thick woods.
When I hear branches move and leaves rustle, I growl and hunker low. A moment later, when two very distinctive scents hit at the same time, I nearly sob with relief. I sprint to my feet and the second I spot the battle worn wolves emerging from the dark, I rush to them.
They step into the clearing and I hurry forward to examine them for injuries. A breeze flutters their thick coats and the chill in my bones runs so deep that when they both brush up against me, I take a quick moment to soak in the warmth of their fur.
Logan is the first to shift and we exchange a look as I hand him his clothes. He dresses and I turn my attention to Stone. The second I see a sticky layer of blood coating his thick fur, I gasp, and wonder if it’s his or Nova’s.
“Stone?” I ask, my eyes moving over his face as I feel a quick flash of panic.
“He got caught in a thorn bush,” Logan says, answering my unasked question.
I glance at Logan. “And Nova?”
Logan turns away from me, like he can’t bear to meet my eyes when he says, “She’s gone.”
I swallow. “Gone?”
“She got away,” he clarifies as Stone morphs and stands to his full height, his angry eyes softening when they land on me.
I hand Stone his clothes and when another gunshot rings out, deep in the forest, I cringe. Instinctively, the alpha wolf steps closer to me, as if to shield me from the danger.
I blink up at him and feel a measure of panic. “Do you think…?”
When he gives an uncertain shrug, I turn to Logan. He jams his hands into his pockets, and my eyes track the deep scars on his chest, scars inflicted by my former master. Scars inflicted because of me.
“Logan?”
I don’t miss the hitch in his voice when he says, “I’m not sure we’ll ever know.”
I think about the girl he grew up with and know none of this can be easy on him. “Logan, I’m sorry.”
He looks at me, his nostrils flaring and I see real sadness in his eyes. He almost feels a little distant when he says, “I’m the one who’s sorry, Pride.”
“We need to move,” Stone announces, breaking the moment as he brushes up against me to pass, his knuckles scraping along my body in such a familiar way.
When I feel his tension, I turn to him and while I know he’s hurting, I ask the question anyway, “Are you okay?”
He nods and continues toward the SUV. He growls at the officer sitting in the front passenger seat before climbing into the far back of the vehicle to sit next to me.
Once we’re all inside, Stone’s hand closes over mine, his touch conveying without words what he’s feeling, what he needs. My pulse races and I don’t say anything in return. Instead, I let him hold me and breathe in his anxiety as I listen to his heart pound in his chest.
Staring out the side window, I watch the black pavement fly by and when I think about how badly things could have gone down, how close I came to losing the boy clutching my hand like it’s his lifeline, I try not to cry.
With my breath coming in shallow pants and my body trembling almost uncontrollably, I look for a distraction, something, anything to keep me from breaking down in front of the others. Knowing I need to be strong for them, I turn my attention to the vehicles zinging by on the highway and focus on the hum of the wheels as my father negotiates the SUV along the winding road.
I have no idea where we’re going, or where he’s taking us, but I can’t seem to ask, can’t seem to get the words past the knot in my throat.
After a half hour of driving, he pulls the vehicle off the side of the road, slams on the brakes, and shoves the gear shift into park. The turn is so abrupt, I jostle to the side and fall against Stone, and he squeezes my hand in reassurance.
“What’s going on?” I ask, and try to figure out why my father suddenly stopped in the middle of nowhere.
I watch him exchange a deadly look with both Logan and Stone in the rearview mirror, and when the scent of his rage pollutes the interior of the vehicle, my wolf yelps. Stone’s eyes darken to a dangerous shade of silver as my father climbs from the SUV, crosses in front of it, and practically tears the passenger door clear off its hinges.
The officer, as if expecting this turn of events, puts his hands up palms out. “Okay, okay,” he says, the panic he’s feeling apparent in his tone. “Take it easy. I said I’d tell you everything I know.”
He slides from the seat. When my father slams the door with a resounding thud, I bolt forward and climb over Gem, Sandy and Blaze as they watch the action unfold. Fearing he’s about to assassinate the man out here where his body will never be found, I jump from the vehicle.
Without looking behind me I know both Stone and Logan are tight on my heels. Loose gravel crunches beneath my boots as I hurry toward the trees fringing the highway.
Leaving the vehicle on the side of the road, keys still in the ignition, my father backs the officer up until they’re shrouded by foliage.
Once he has him in the shadows, he says, “We’re not going any farther, not until you answer my questions.”
With a common goal in mind, Logan and Stone instinctively begin to work together. They flank the officer while my father proceeds with a pat-down. When he finds no tracking devices, or a second gun, he stands up and folds his arms across his chest.
“First,” he says, a new hardness in his tone as his lips peel back. As I watch him, I can feel my own gums tighten in response. “Who are you?”
I don’t miss the worry in the officer’s voice when he answers with, “The name is Mike Sanford.”
“Okay, Sanford, you say you’re not involved, why then, were you in a PTF hideout with a caged wolf?”
“Call off your dogs first.” he says, his nervous glance going back and forth between Stone and Logan. “Then I’ll tell you everything.”
My father’s laugh is humorless as he pins him with a glare. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.”
“Listen—”
“No, you listen. You spared my daughter’s life, which is the only reason you’re still alive, but if I find out you’re part of the team hunting for sport, those two,” he says, stopping to nod toward the deadly shifters baring their fangs, “are going to make sure you disappear.”
“I’m not part of the team. I’m not a part of any team.” He looks at me before adding, “Not anymore.”
I step up to him and tilt my chin until our eyes meet. “What do you mean, not anymore?”
“I know you’re not a monster, Pride. You opened my eyes to that.” He stops to rake shaky hands through his short hair. “Which is why I assembled a new team after our encounter at the Canadian border. But when headquarters found out, they made a visit to our branch. I tried to explain to them that not all wolves are bloodthirsty animals and that perhaps we needed to change tactics.”
“And?”
“And they determined that I was growing soft. They disassembled my team and kicked me off the force.”
A shiver turns my blood to ice and when I exhale, my breath fogs in front of my face. “You’re working alone then?”
“I’m working alone, but it’s not what you think.”
“Tell me what I think.”
“Let me just tell you what I know.” He pauses, but when I say nothing he continues. “I went there to stop them from killing that girl. You were the last person I expected to find in the safe house.”
“I never expected to find you there either.”
He looks confused for a moment then asks, “How did you find out about the hideout, anyway?”
