Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

by Sarra Cannon

  That moment was her chance at escape, but she found herself rooted to the spot, eyes closed, waiting.

  Waiting for what? part of her mind screamed.

  She forced her eyes open when she heard footsteps and a growl. Zack’s power preceded him like a battering ram, and she found herself falling belly-up in submission. A second later, he was hovering over her throat, just as Jed had been, his clover green eyes wide and hungry.

  His scent hit her, and for a moment, she saw everything that could have been. A home. A future. A good life with a good man.

  A betrayal.

  She closed her eyes, wishing it all away—everything in the past three weeks. There was a time when she’d trusted the man inside that wolf, even wanted him. And damn it, part of her wanted him still. But she could never give in to that false desire. She would never submit to being claimed against her will.

  Every muscle in her clenched and she twisted her head away, gasping for a last free breath. She felt Zack’s breath against her neck, and behind it, the darkness of the night pressing in.

  A second passed, and then another, and still neither of them moved. She was vaguely aware that the fight between the other wolves and Ty had settled into ponderous silence, but that barely mattered now.

  Then it was a gentle hand, not pointed fangs, that ran over her throat. A human hand that traced a light line along her neck. She blinked and found that Zack had shifted. Somehow, he’d taken her with him, because her wolf had slipped away, leaving the woman pinned under the man. A man hanging his head so low, his hair brushed her chest. She froze, trying not to breathe.

  Zack made a choked sound then slowly backed off her and lurched to his feet, heaving her up with a hand.

  She swayed then skittered out of reach. Zack’s face was a mess of blood and indecision. When he reached out for her, she jumped back.

  Shame shadowed his face. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I only wanted you.

  Rae didn’t know if she’d read the words in his face or in his mind, but there they were.

  I only wanted you.

  Her eyes went hot and tight with tears she refused to set free. The two of them might have remained standing there like two sad statues all night had an engine not sounded in the distance. Ty the wolf came over the ridge, red around the muzzle, his ears pointed toward the sound. Behind him, all was silent, and she knew that Jed’s rogues were vanquished.

  The wolves threatening to steal her soul were gone, only to be replaced by two others who threatened the same thing—and a rapidly approaching third. Would it be the old alpha? Would Ty claim her now? Or would he drag her back to the ranch and force himself upon her right there?

  A motorcycle roared up: Zack’s Harley, with another man in the seat. It was Cody, Ty’s younger brother, looking uncharacteristically grim.

  He nodded to her in a curt greeting then quickly pulled his eyes from her naked body to Zack. The four of them stood there in silence even after Ty blurred back to his human form.

  She waited; surely Ty would make some proclamation now. After all, he was the pack’s future alpha.

  But it was Zack who moved first, stepping to the motorcycle and pulling the key from the ignition. The warrior in him was back; she could see it in the square of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw. But he was a weary warrior, one who’d lost sight of his cause. With a grunt and a jerk of the chin, he ordered the other men to back away.

  To her utter surprise, Ty and Cody hesitated only briefly before complying. For that moment, at least, they ceded rank to their packmate.

  When Zack faced her, his face was limp in defeat even though he stood on the scene of a triumph. He mimicked a toss then threw Rae the key. It came arcing to her in slow motion, like the world was decelerating on its axis to give her a chance to think.

  Zack was giving her his bike.

  Zack was giving her her freedom.

  Zack was letting her go.

  She reached out and fisted the key in one hand. Freedom. Her emotions swung somewhere between elation and grief.

  Zack leaned over the bike and pulled something from the saddlebag then laid it across the seat. He stepped aside, holding his hands up as if she had a gun pointed his way.

  “You’re letting me go? Why?” Her voice had never sounded so raspy and unsure.

  His lips moved, though no sound came out. It was his eyes that said it. Because I love you.

  A memory said the rest. You know, that corny line. If you love something, set it free.

  She looked out past the desert to the pulsing lights of the highway. The open road. She was free to go anywhere she wanted, to forge her own way. Her heart thumped. The only place she wanted to be was here, with him.

  Then she gave herself a stubborn shake and remembered: she was supposed to head far, far away. East. That had been her plan. The outside world, her future, lay just over there, where headlights were streaking by. And Zack was right in front of her, watching her like she had her finger on a grenade.

  With a gulp, Rae made her decision. So what if it made her miserable for the rest of her life? Snatching the flannel shirt Zack had laid out on the motorcycle, she buttoned it hastily over her torso. It smelled just like him, damn it, fresh and musky and true, as if all the power and the harsh beauty of the desert had been woven into the fibers. The shirt was just long enough that she wouldn’t be arrested for indecent exposure once she got on the highway and made her escape. From there, well, she’d wing it.

  With every muscle screaming in protest, she threw a leg over the motorcycle, kicked the engine to life, and roared off, forcing herself to look forward, not back.

  No looking back, she ordered herself. Too late now.

  Rae. His whisper carried on the wind, half plea and all heart.

  She gunned the engine and rode on, tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter 24

  Zack forced himself to watch his future speed down the bumpy trail and across the flats, the sound of a receding engine all too familiar to his ears. He stood long and silent, following the single light until it paused on the edge of the highway, then merged and was swallowed up by the rest.

  Gone. Rae was gone.

  This is where his sense of honor got him: on the wrong end of a dust cloud, with his destined mate speeding away and out of his life. He vaguely registered a faint sound and wondered if it was his heart shattering, muted by the flesh and fibers in between.

  Let it. He didn’t need that particular organ any more.

  He stood there a long time after Ty and Cody left, staring into emptiness.

  Then he walked back to the ranch, his step as slow as it had been fast and frantic on the way out. There was nothing to run back to. Just an empty cabin, his packmates, and an angry alpha. Not that the latter bothered him much. While the fight against Ty had been a draw, the confrontation with old Tyrone had been a clear win.

  Respect. He’d won that, even if it was a small consolation for losing his mate. But life was what it was: cruel. Twisted. Unfair. He climbed the stairs to his porch and settled into his chair, feeling a thousand years older and none too wiser. Just emptier inside.

  The aches in his body faded gradually, all but the one that mattered most.

  Over the next two weeks, he fell back to his usual routine: doing odd jobs on the ranch by day, sitting on his porch at night, watching the stars arc slowly across the sky. Wondering if Rae was watching them, too. The fact that there’d been a dearth of tracking assignments sat just fine with him, because heading out to track would remind him too much of that magical night they’d shared.

  Spring was coming, even in the absence of her scent: paintbrush erupting in startling orange-red, desert marigolds waving from the ends of their stalks, hummingbirds zipping merrily to and fro. But scenes that should have sung with promise and new beginnings only cried regret in his ears.

  The days stumbled along and the nights dragged, over and over, right up to the night of the new moon. Rae would be ou
t hunting, he knew, a swift shadow in the night. She was out there somewhere. He sat, hushed, wondering if he’d hear Mother Earth’s whisper if he tried hard enough.

  He strained his ears until half the night was gone and he was dreaming of his bike, the open road, and two tight arms around his waist. He dreamed it so desperately that when his chin fell on his chest, jerking him awake, the sound of the engine still rumbled in his ears.

  He creaked to his feet and turned for the screen door, resigning himself to another sleepless night. But he paused at the threshold because the engine noise was still there. Growing steadily louder, in fact, until he heard 750 familiar cc’s come up the drive. He braced both hands against the doorframe and tucked his chin, keeping his back to the road. If this was his imagination coming to torture him again, he wasn’t going to play along. He’d had enough.

  The engine purred right up to the porch and stood humming quietly for half a minute before the driver shut it off. Then it was only the crickets and the night owl and his desperately fragile hope, dangling in the desert air.

  Chapter 25

  Rae’s legs were shaky as she climbed the steps to Zack’s cabin, and it wasn’t for the miles in her weary bones. The past few weeks were all a blur now: the mountains, the truck stops, the tears. Every bump in every mile of road had rattled through the handlebars, into her arms, and through her body until her teeth ached as much as her shoulders or back.

  None of it held a candle to the ache in her heart, though, and so she had driven on and on, not sure if it was out of sheer determination or stubborn stupidity. She’d driven past the barrens of Texas, past an ocean of bluegrass in Tennessee, and on to the tidewaters of Maryland until she saw the sun rise over the sea. Nearly drove straight off the end of the rickety dock she’d stopped on, too, not caring what kind of end she’d meet. Because all those miles had taught her one thing: that the world was just as bleak and twice as lonely as it had been back in the desert.

  She checked in to a cheap motel and fell into a forty-eight-hour delirium of sleep, figuring it would do her good. But crawling out the other side of that tunnel was even harder, because where was the light?

  There was no light, not without him.

  She hated herself for even thinking it. She was supposed to be independent and strong, damn it! And Zack had set her up only to let her take a mighty fall.

  Or had he?

  He saved us!her wolf insisted. He loves us!

  Love or lust? Do alphas even know the difference?

  Her wolf growled. This one does. He fought for us!

  She tried ignoring the flutter in her stomach. He fought so he could claim us. Make us his. Take our freedom.

  The wolf raged at the suggestion. He let us go. He gave us this thing you call freedom. And what good is it?

  Freedom is everything.

  Freedom is alone.

  Rae bowed her head to the truth. She didn’t like this new situation any better than the wolf did. But sooner or later, she told herself, she’d find a new pack. The right pack.

  Her wolf whined. We found the right pack back at Twin Moon Ranch.

  She pictured the high-altitude desert of central Arizona. The vast landscape—harsh yet beautiful at the same time. The tidy settlement, the friendly faces, the meandering path to the cabin on the periphery. That’s where her thoughts led her, every time she let them wander. To a cabin, a porch, and a man.

  An honest man, or a liar?

  There was a fine line between trust and treason, that was for sure. But beyond that? She didn’t know whether to believe her mind or her heart.

  She considered the question for two pensive weeks, wandering to the shoreline each night, trying to find some shimmer of truth in the moonlight rippling over the waves. She tossed a pebble into the water and listened for the splash. Wouldn’t be long until the next new moon, and then where would she be?

  A shadow flitted overhead: an osprey soaring effortlessly. Wings outstretched, it leaned into a wide turn and circled around the same spot. Again and again, honing in on its prey. Rae watched, glad to distract herself from her thoughts. The osprey caught an updraft, soared effortlessly up, then wheeled. Looking. Waiting. Calculating.

  A second shadow joined the first. The osprey’s mate? Rae’s eyes narrowed and blurred until what she was seeing wasn’t a bird but a wolf, loping along in support of its mate.

  The memories came back in a flood. The night of the pronghorn hunt had been magic, every moment of it. For the first time in her life, everything clicked perfectly: the new moon, the prey, the place. The man at her side. Her lips curled into a smile just at the memory of it, but then fell into a frown, remembering what came next.

  Joy.

  Anger.

  Betrayal.

  The gutted expression on Zack’s face.

  For the hundredth time, she replayed the memory of him tossing the keys in slow motion, giving her freedom. Why?

  The first osprey dipped and curved, while the second remained watchful, high above.

  If you love something, set it free.

  There was a second part to that corny old line, she remembered.

  If it loves you, it will come back. If it doesn’t…

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she forced herself to rewind and picture it all over again: the mesa, the motorcycle, the man. One who faced up to his own shortcomings and took his punishment on the chin.

  Was she woman enough to do the same?

  Because he hadn’t betrayed her. Old Tyrone’s announcement that she was to mate with Ty had hit Zack as hard as it hit her. His gutted expressed had said as much, only she hadn’t been paying attention at the time. He hadn’t suspected what the pack alpha was planning. He wasn’t bringing her to mate with someone else.

  He’d just been bringing her home.

  He loved her. And he’d risked everything for her—his life, his honor, his standing in the pack.

  And what had she done for him?

  Shame flooded her, and a moment later, resolve. Then she was on her feet, scrambling for the bike, fumbling with the key.

  Drive slowly, the human part of her mind said. Be sure.

  Her wolf snarled. I’m sure. Just get me back to my mate!

  The closer she got, the faster she drove, desperate to fast-forward herself back into his arms. To Zack—an imperfect man, but her perfect mate.

  Sixty-plus hours and four brief stops later, she crossed the Arizona state line. Even then it was another couple of hours before she reached the dirt road leading off the highway and to the ranch, and as she bumped over it, doubt spread in a heavy layer over her exhaustion. Would she even be allowed back on the ranch? She’d defied the alpha and rejected his son. She’d turned her back on Zack. Would he even forgive her? Would he want her?

  The questions hounded her right up to the moment when she climbed the porch, her legs trembling from more than just road fatigue. But each step made her feel more and more certain, like fate was nodding her on.

  She stepped to within a breath of his back and stood there, soaking in his scent.

  Chapter 26

  Zack kept his back turned as the driver took a long time getting off that bike, and an even longer time climbing the three creaky steps. An eternity passed before she slipped slowly into his space, like he was a spooked colt liable to bolt at any minute. His skin tingled even before a warm hand eased his fingers open and pressed something thin and edgy inside.

  A key. The key to his Harley.

  “Thanks for the loan,” Rae said. She spoke like she’d just been down the road and back, but he caught the waver in her voice.

  He talked toward the doorframe, forcing the words off his clunky tongue. “Planning on getting a new ride?”

  He could feel her shake her head; the tip of her nose brushed his neck when she did it. She was that close, and Jesus, it felt so right.

  “Planning on staying put, if I’m allowed.”

  He exhaled, waiting for his heart to restart. All
owed? He’d make damn sure she never wanted to leave.

  “Shouldn’t you be out hunting?” He ought to sound unaffected, but damn, he could barely breathe.

  She nodded into his back and her arms snuck around him just as they had on his bike, a long month ago. An eternity.

  “Different kind of hunt tonight,” she whispered.

  Th-thump, th-thump. So his heart did work, after all. “What kind of hunt is that?”

  A finger brushed against his cheek. “Man hunt.”

  His fingers curled around hers. “You think he’s going to come willingly?

  “I think he can be convinced.”

  That’s when something in him cracked. He spun and pulled her tight, squeezing to make it clear he wasn’t planning on ever letting go.

  “I’m sorry I left,” Rae croaked from where she was wrapped around his neck. Her arms clenched and reclenched to hug him from a dozen different angles.

  He buried his nose in her hair, wondering if anything had ever felt this good. For once, someone was speeding into his life instead of speeding out.

  “I’m sorry for everything else.”

  She shook her head and mumbled into his skin. “No more sorry.”

  “No more goodbyes.”

  “No more anything but this,” she agreed.

  They hung on to each other like a couple of castaways still holding tight hours after being washed ashore. With every inhale, he felt stronger, surer. It was feeling a man like Ty must have all the time: that he had a mountain at his back, and not an abyss. He had love. More than that, he had pure, unconditional love. Something Ty might never have, for all his unspoken privilege.

  “Hey,” Rae whispered in his ear. “Listen.”

  He hugged her closer instead of lifting his head, but even wrapped tightly in that spring-scented cloak she seemed to wear, he heard it. A whisper in the air, faint as filtered starlight from a thousand light-years away. A whisper that carried images, not words, forming a scene in his mind.