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Alpha's Hunt

Page 7

by Aimee Easterling


  “Aunt May, go get the pack. You and I were hunting. I didn’t know about Luke’s territorial boundaries and I got ahead of you. Easton must have followed, which is why he fell.”

  Stated so plainly, the cause of death sounded even more precarious than Carly’s crumbling self-esteem. I itched to shift and track Easton’s path backwards, but first I needed to deal with the other disasters waiting to erupt.

  “The rest of you, take Carly and head for the other side of pack territory. Get rid of the blood and the elk scent. Decide what you’ve been up to that won’t get Carly shunned.”

  Ruth, even as a teenager, would have argued at having such a satisfying kill as the bull elk taken away from her. Carly merely breathed a single word in answer: “Thanks.”

  I’d stolen her status symbol—something that mattered to skinless more than I’d initially registered. Yet she was grateful....

  The notion made me furious. There was so much more wrong with this pack than I’d initially assumed.

  And I was going to fix it. Just as soon as I got rid of my audience.

  So I bit out my final words rougher than I’d intended. “Hurry. Don’t make me tell you again.”

  I SMELLED THE LONE wolf coming as I padded lupine across the rock arch for the tenth time, hoping for a different conclusion to present itself. Because the one I’d come to royally sucked.

  Easton had been following our trail. No, that was imprecise. He’d been following my trail. Where I’d split off from the other females a tenth of a mile back to ford a stream rather than leap across it, he’d sniffed carefully up and down the bank to make sure I wasn’t evading him. Then he’d continued along my solo track.

  Such caution wasn’t the work of an idiot. And yet, by the time he reached the rock arch, he’d been sprinting. Rushing—why?—so fast he leapt right off the edge like the elk had before him.

  Only, unlike the elk he wasn’t fleeing. He was following. Following my scent trail, which seemed to disappear into the void when I’d dropped onto a ledge three feet below it. My scent had separated from the other females’ more solidly there than it had at the stream bank. Did Easton think I’d veered off on my own? That he could catch me solo? Grab a token? Be the first challenger initiating the Alpha’s Hunt?

  Whatever his thought processes, Easton had smelled my path. He’d dove after me...then he’d plummeted to his death.

  And whoever had pushed me...had she known, somehow, that Easton would follow me over?

  It made no sense. None of it did. So I stood on the spot where Easton’s feet had last left solid ground and watched the first hint of dawn illuminate a lone wolf stalking out of the forest.

  The male came from the direction of the road, not the direction the females had left in. Plus, something about the scent wafted toward me by an uprising breeze told me he was no member of Luke’s pack.

  But he didn’t sneak the way I’d expect a lone wolf to. Instead, every step was both silent and powerful. He paced over to the elk, sniffed, then walked on.

  Not interested in an easy meal then. Nor did he stop for more than a moment beside Easton’s broken body.

  Instinct held me frozen as the stranger paced back and forth beneath me. He was looking for something, but what was it? I wasn’t sure until he latched onto Carly’s receding trail.

  Because the youngest member of our party had stumbled as she left the area, peering back at me over one shoulder. Or, more likely, stealing one last glimpse of her fallen elk. She’d sidled in a curve away from the rest of the females in order to catch her balance, and that was the path the lone wolf followed now.

  His jaw gaped open into a grin, his tongue lolling out and his eyes sparking with pleasure. Drool splattered to the earth beneath him. His hindquarters bunched as he prepared to follow her trail....

  And skinless streamed into the valley. Familiar, furious. They flushed the stranger as easily as if he was a sparrow. Within seconds, the lone wolf was gone.

  NO ONE REMARKED ON the lone wolf’s presence immediately, not with two corpses to choose from. Instead, familiar wolves milled around the bodies—the elk’s and Easton’s. Luke was the only one who noticed me there above them. His gaze rose to meet mine as if he’d seen himself through my eyes.

  “I did.” The words in my head were quiet, chastened by the loss of his pack mate. Still, Luke backtracked without hesitation, climbing up the precise route I’d come down the first time. One last boulder scaled, then he shifted upwards atop the arch.

  I matched his transformation, careful to do so out of sight of the wolves below us. Letting my pelt slip down to the stone between us, I gazed at the dried blood striping Luke’s chest.

  The wound I’d torn into the side of his neck was much worse than I remembered. I reached up to touch it, pulling back one moment before my finger made contact with abraded skin.

  Then his hand was on mine, pressing my fingers flat against the barely scabbed over surface. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  Despite myself, I snorted just like Ruth would have done. “Of course it hurts.”

  Luke’s lip twitched ever so slightly. Below us, the pack hummed with interest. They’d noticed my presence and their leader’s shift to humanity. Their own transitions rose as an electric crackle through the early morning mist.

  “I was prepared last night at the bonfire.” Luke’s eyes bored into me for one long second before he reminded me of the joke we’d tossed back and forth between us last summer. “There’s always danger when hunting zombie giraffes.”

  As he spoke, the sun glinted fully above the horizon, sparkling his eyes a brilliant cobalt. Had it only been one night that I’d spent among the skinless? My exhausted muscles said those hours were an eternity.

  So did the lightness in my chest.

  Luke was here. The day was brightening. Carly’s future, trouble with the pack—both could wait another few minutes.

  Despite our audience, I stood up on tiptoe, leaning in close until human nostrils could capture Luke’s cinnamon. He was so spicy sweet he might as well have been a pastry right out of the oven. But I didn’t want to lick or bite him. I craved a kiss.

  My lips brushed across his...and Luke didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he stood still as a statue. Breathed out a question. “You’re ready to declare this so soon?”

  Below us, someone called up encouragement. “Don’t stall, alpha!”

  Another voice was less supportive. “Is this why you won’t choose Michael?”

  I cocked my head, and so did Luke. Which meant our eyes were level with each other as his brows drew together just like mine already had.

  “I thought you understood this.” His voice vibrated my bones with its intensity. “I explained last summer.”

  The parts of the summer I’d spent with Luke were inscribed in my memory as clearly as if they’d been laser-etched there. No explanation seemed relevant to the present moment.

  So I shook my head mutely. Whatever information he referred to, I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear it. We’d already been derailed by the issue of mate bonds and sword maidens. What more did I need to learn about my place in Luke’s pack?

  Luke rubbed his jaw, his voice so deep I felt more than heard when he continued. “Duties of an alpha?” He raised his eyebrows. “The issue of an heir?”

  Chapter 16

  Such an archaic word. And such a loaded one. I tried to kiss Luke and he jumped ahead to babies?

  I stumbled backward and I might have joined Easton splattered on the ground below us if Luke hadn’t grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my skin as he set me back onto my feet.

  “You didn’t know?”

  He spoke silently now, the words not meant for the pack beneath us. But I couldn’t quite get my thoughts in order sufficiently to send an answer in the same manner. Instead, I just shook my head, watching the amused crinkles fall away from either side of Luke’s eyes.

  “When the pack came to Wolf Camp. I thought you heard me.” His cheek twitche
d. “You called Carly by name.”

  So...we weren’t talking about babies? I focused enough to answer in the same manner. “I saw her in a dream this week....”

  “But I explained everything at Wolf Camp. You answered me.”

  “I caught tidbits. The reception was lousy.”

  Luke winced. “And the rest of it. My bite. Your bite.”

  Without meaning to, my hand rose to trace the thin scar along one side of my neck. For a split second, cinnamon enfolded me. “Instinct.” Then, when Luke’s wordless frustration overwhelmed the cinnamon, I added. “I understand the sword maiden’s duty. To keep people from stealing tokens so there won’t be an Alpha’s Hunt.”

  “You don’t, not really.” He shook his head, face grim. “I thought you’d chosen this. But you didn’t.”

  Luke’s words fell on me like lead weights, knocking my breath away. This was the root of his distress. Something to do with heirs, and with choice also.

  “I chose to bite you,” I assured him.

  But it wasn’t enough. I could tell, and so could the pack even though they weren’t privy to the words passing back and forth between us. Skinless rustled like leaves in the first breeze before a hurricane.

  This wasn’t a conversation Luke and I should share with them in the wings.

  And Luke dealt with it. Even though I could feel his distress and his need to determine whatever I had or hadn’t chosen, he didn’t forget his pack for a single second.

  Instead, he glanced down and spoke as quietly as if to someone right beside him. “Arthur, you’re in charge until I return. Make sure the lone wolf is gone.”

  Then, releasing my shoulders, he fell onto four paws.

  WE RAN IN SILENCE. Away from the pack, away from death, away from Carly’s bull elk.

  “What...?” I started at one point. But Luke ignored me, speeding up to fly faster across damp leaves that barely left behind indentations from our passing. Only when Ruth’s parked car appeared before us, a paved road barely visible in the near distance, did he slow.

  Luke shimmered upward into humanity and I followed, breathless. His silence was contagious. I let him cling to quiet as he twisted his body to dredge a key from the hollow interior of a tree limb.

  “Here, get in.” Luke held the car door open. Waited patiently as I stood there, assessing the vague invitation. If he intended to send me away for my own good a second time, I wasn’t having it.

  When my feet remained rooted to the soil, Luke cleared his throat and added: “Ruth told me you wanted to check on Justice. We’ll need to drive until we get reception. It’s some distance. Too far to walk on two legs.” He paused, then added: “On the way, we can talk.”

  I glanced down at his ankle—more swollen than ever. Around his pack, Luke couldn’t show weakness. So he’d hunted on torn ligaments. Had fled on the wounded joint while leading me away from the rock arch. His need to sit down for a few moments decided my response.

  “Okay.” I lowered myself into the passenger seat and peered out into the forest as Luke limped around to the driver’s side. He hesitated one long moment before sliding in to join me. I got the distinct impression he expected me to leap right back out of the car.

  Instead, I clutched the phone I’d found waiting on the seat, flinching as my finger accidentally indented the power button and prompted it to chime to noisy life. Luke was right. There was no service here. There were, however, messages from yesterday before we’d reached the dead zone. Dozens apiece from Bastion and Justice. Frantic, demanding. All had the same gist—was I alright?

  “I won’t think less of you if you leave.” Luke’s words landed lightly, the clothes he’d pulled out of the back seat a more solid weight against my bare thigh. He shimmied into jeans and a t-shirt. Waited for me to do the same. His silence was deafening as he started the car.

  Human, we could still share thoughts...but neither of us wanted to. Instead, the only sound was the rumble of wheels on pavement and the melancholy hum of the radio. Until, that is, I asked the question I couldn’t get out of my head.

  “Can we talk about”—now I was the one who cleared my throat—“the issue of an heir?”

  I could always tell when Luke was uncomfortable because he got terser. He didn’t evade the question, though. Just slid a glance in my direction and said, “An alpha is stronger if he has one.”

  I blinked. Nodded. “And you don’t have one.”

  My acceptance of that issue was enough to open the floodgates of Luke’s explanation, or at least to release a rivulet rather than a trickle. “No.” He shook his head, closed his eyes, reopened them—after all, he was driving. “The pack is pissed. Probably one of the reasons you and Ruth are still the only two I can speak to via the pack bonds.”

  “Mind speech equals being a more solid alpha. Got it.” Strange, but I could work my head around that. I could also see why a group obsessed with a single dominant leader would want to know the chain of succession.

  Still, there was an obvious solution. “Michael?”

  “Really doesn’t want the job. Not now. Not ever.” Luke’s knuckles whitened as his hands clenched harder around the wheel. “I won’t force him.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  The fact I hadn’t started swearing or chewing him out seemed to hearten Luke because he provided more information without prodding this time. “The heir doesn’t have to be a direct descendant, but he should be someone of a related bloodline. If Carly mated....”

  “She’s a child!”

  Luke’s lips pursed as he stared out the windshield, as if we were weaving through six lanes of city traffic rather than toodling along at forty miles an hour down an entirely empty road. “The other choice is you. Us. Our kid. Hypothetical kid.”

  How obvious...and how wrong. But maybe I’d misunderstood what Luke was saying. “You thought that when I came back with Ruth and chose to bite you, I was promising to pop out babies. Babies who would be snatched up by your pack and groomed into mini alphas.”

  Okay, my voice might have raised an octave by the end of that rant. So sue me. That wasn’t how woelfin created families. That wasn’t how woelfin raised children.

  The scent of cinnamon rising from my skin was no longer romantic. Instead, our mate bond felt like a collar clenched tight around my neck.

  “There’s a bus station in town,” Luke said, his voice full of apology. “I can bind mint into my wound, then Ruth will be the sword maiden the way she was for our father. She and I both understand why you wouldn’t want to be part of this mess.”

  We were right back where we’d started. Luke was diving into a pack of crazy skinless, giving me the choice to flee or assimilate.

  “I...” I started, only to freeze as the car backfired.

  No, that wasn’t a backfire. That was a gun shot.

  Luke slammed on the brakes.

  Chapter 17

  Despite being cannon-loud, the gun shot wasn’t close. Or, I didn’t think it was close. No glass shattered. The car continued rolling forward, albeit sluggishly, suggesting no tire had been punctured.

  But Luke was shifting. My hand grabbed the wheel just in time to steer us over to the shoulder while a wolf erupted out of Luke’s clothes.

  “That came from the pack’s direction.” His words in my head were laser focused. “Guns have been forbidden within Clan Acosta since my grandfather’s time....”

  And yet another random rule appeared out of nowhere. I wanted to laugh but clenched my lips together since I had a feeling the sound might come out borderline hysterical. I definitely needed a Skinless for Dummies guidebook.

  “Lone wolves often carry guns,” Luke continued. “They haven’t been so bold as to use one before though....”

  At that point, our mental connection descended into images. Luke needed to be with his pack. He needed to....

  I reached across his furry body to yank open the door.

  Luke leapt from the car, all grace and power. But he fumbled th
e landing, his injured ankle folding beneath him. For one millisecond, he lay panting on the pavement. Then he was up and running. Three legs flashing, the fourth tucked up against his gut.

  “Take the car,” he told me. “I’ve got this.” Our connection faded as he disappeared beneath the trees.

  He expected me to flee. To leave him to deal with a gun-wielding lone wolf—or was that lone wolves plural? I opened my door. Walked on slow human feet around to the driver’s side. Got back in.

  In my hand, the phone buzzed. Ten messages. A hundred. Luke had driven us to the edge of the cell-phone zone after all, and now a day’s worth of family worry was downloading in an instant.

  Staring into orange leaves, I dialed up the family member I was most concerned about. Didn’t bother with small talk when the line connected. Just demanded: “Are you alright?”

  Justice didn’t respond directly. Instead, he spoke to family members I knew had to be there beside him. “She leaves me to gnaw my fingernails raw for a solid day and now she wants to know if I’m alright.”

  “Hand over the phone.” That was Bastion, gruffer than usual. “No, wait. Put it on speaker phone. Ask her where she is.”

  The sound of their banter eased the tightness out of my chest. And, without that hard clench freezing up my brain, the decision about whether to go or stay grew easier.

  I still knew next to nothing about the Alpha’s Hunt other than the implication the process would be deadly. But I knew one thing—hunting involved running and Luke’s ankle wasn’t ready to run.

  Plus, there were lone wolves hanging around, causing trouble. Carly’s mental health hung by a thread. And Ruth had enough scars to last her a lifetime.

  Added onto all that, I simply didn’t want to leave.

  “Well?” Now Justice was acknowledging me directly.

 

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