Alpha's Hunt

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Alpha's Hunt Page 13

by Aimee Easterling


  “Whatever you lost, it’s no more important than your life.” Arthur began pushing me back in the direction I’d come from. “Again, sword maiden, I strongly recommend that you shift.”

  So I’d have to do this the hard way. I hated the idea of bruising the only member of Luke’s pack who’d stuck by me when I veered away from Victor. But bruises healed and Arthur would forgive me....

  I twisted sideways ever so slightly. Before I could toss Arthur over my shoulder and slam him into the ground, however, Bastion shimmered upward. He made exactly no effort to hide the existence of his own pelt as it sloughed off his skin.

  “What she’s trying to tell you,” my cousin informed Arthur, cradling his pelt as if it were a house cat, “is that Honor left her wolfsfell behind.”

  Chapter 28

  “Shit.” At least Arthur let go of me before he started pacing and swearing. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

  I raised one eyebrow at Bastion. “Was that really necessary?” Using the archaic term for our pelt definitely wasn’t helping.

  “He’s a friend,” Bastion countered. “We need friends who know what’s happening.”

  Whether or not Arthur was truly a friend remained to be determined. At the moment, I could barely make out his hulking form as he strode in circles around us, tearing at his hair and growling out expletives that became more creative as time progressed.

  He was also being approximately as loud as bear who’d just emerged from winter hibernation. Our enemies didn’t appear to have picked up on the ruckus yet, but it was only a matter of time until a patrol stumbled across us....

  Just when I was reluctantly returning to my original plan of putting Arthur out of commission, he turned to face me. “The alpha knew about this?” He waved his arms to encompass both me and Bastion’s pelt.

  “Yes, of course.” Well, Luke knew about my identity when he bit me. Perhaps not so much during the first week of our shared life.

  Something in my eyes must have given Arthur a hint of what I was thinking. Because he grabbed both of my arms this time, pulling me forward so he could push his nose into my collarbone.

  His flesh was cold against mine while his hot breath was far too intimate. Bastion reached out to break Arthur’s hold, but I shook my head.

  So, yeah, we were all naked and a random skinless was pressing his face into my chest. But the scent of cinnamon that used to wait for me in the crook of my neck intensified the longer we were in contact. For one split second, I could feel Luke on the other end of the line.

  “Where are you?” he demanded. He was shouting, but the words were so quiet I could barely hear them.

  “Wolf Camp. Well, nearly. Where are you?”

  My words flung back at me, as if I’d yelled my answer into a hard wind. No reply from Luke. Had he even heard me?

  Meanwhile, Arthur released me more gently than he’d initially grabbed hold. His eyebrows—as best I could tell in the near darkness—were quizzical.

  “So.” He scratched his beard, then nodded. “Yeah, so we’ll go get your....” He waved his arms around vaguely.

  “Wolfsfell,” Bastion and I supplied in unison. “Pelt,” I added, offering the English translation while my cousin muttered something far less helpful under his breath:

  “Jinx.”

  As if we were ten again, using synchronous words as an excuse to punch each other’s shoulders. I squashed a smile. Despite everything, it was good to have Bastion by my side.

  “I hope not,” Arthur answered, the in-joke whizzing right over his head. “This is going to be tough enough without your wolfsfell being jinxed.”

  WE DIDN’T TALK MUCH after that because we couldn’t. Bastion and Arthur shimmered back down to fur form then spread out, scouting for trouble while I picked my way two-legged toward our goal.

  The distance had seemed short when I fled in an adrenaline rush of terror. The return journey lasted ten times as long.

  At first, though, I thought we’d gotten lucky. Because shouts rose from the direction of the hollow beech tree, now a good mile behind us. Then scattered howls converged on the location where our enemies must have caught my trail.

  Which was both bad and good. Bad—they were onto me. Good—it would take a while for them to catch up to my current location.

  Plus, the moon had risen all the way over the horizon, letting me pick up the pace considerably. So I was jogging along the second deer trail when Bastion’s body slammed into my shins.

  “What’s...?”

  His teeth on my ankle pressed down hard enough for warning. We were no longer alone out here.

  Okay, I get it. I dropped my hand to his ruff and his teeth loosened. Together, we joined Arthur, pressing ourselves into the shadow of a broad tree trunk.

  A familiar tree trunk. Shaggy bark and an abrupt bend ten feet up made me think we were closer to my pelt than I’d realized while blithely jogging forward, led by my gut’s yearning.

  Was that why Bastion had halted me? He was lupine and silent, so all I could do was press close to the wolves on either side and listen to the forest.

  For a long time, that’s all I heard, too—forest. Leaves rustling. The quavering call of a screech owl. Then...voices just barely close enough to make out the words.

  “She was lupine. She couldn’t have carried a token with her.”

  Carl. I’d assumed he was off with the rest of his allies, sniffing around the hollow beech tree. Instead, he seemed to be shuffling his feet through fallen leaves like a playful child.

  There was nothing playful in Victor’s voice when he answered. “It’s supposed to be here. Somewhere close. Find it and Carly is yours.”

  A tremor of unease slid up my spine as the rustling intensified. Not just because of the threat to Luke’s young cousin—she was safely in New York City with my sister. But my pelt wasn’t and a gleam of light had sparked to light between the trees.

  As if someone had turned on a flashlight. As if they knew I had a pelt and were hunting for it....

  I took a step forward, out of the shadow of the trunk we were huddled behind and into moonlight. There were three of us and two of them. Unlike when I’d fled earlier, we now had the element of surprise.

  This time, when Arthur slammed me back against the tree trunk, hand across my mouth, Bastion didn’t shift upward and stop him. “In case you can’t smell it, they have guns.” Arthur’s voice was a breath of sound only. “And two other shifters for backup. The trick Bastion and I used to get loose the first time won’t work twice. Going out there now would be suicide.”

  Leaving my pelt to be found would be just as bad. I bit down on his palm, but Arthur didn’t so much as flinch away from me. Skinless must be accustomed to super-human levels of pain.

  Then Bastion was two-legged... and agreeing with Arthur. “Honor, listen to me. We have to retreat. I’ll get it back for you, I promise.”

  Between us lay the memory of this past summer. The memory of my cousin flirting with death while I tried and nearly failed to regain his pelt.

  “We’ll get it back,” Arthur agreed. “Or maybe they won’t find it.”

  That was too much to hope for. From the other side of the tree trunk came a hoot of pleasure followed by Victor’s voice, gloating. His words sent a shiver through me.

  “She was right.”

  Chapter 29

  Victor’s fingers on my pelt clenched like so many daggers into my stomach. But all I could think was: She?

  The sole female member of the Acosta clan who knew I was a woelfin was Ruth. Ruth was also the one who’d argued for giving up Carly for the good of the larger pack.

  Ruth had fought on behalf of the clan while her father was alpha. She’d supported Michael until it became clear the boy didn’t want to be pack leader. Was it such a stretch to think she might choose another puppet to rule through—one like Victor, allied with Carl—when her sex forced actual leadership out of her grasp?

  I could even sympathize with her...
until I considered Luke’s reaction to being betrayed by his sister. Even without my pelt, I found myself baring my teeth.

  But I’d been lost in thought for too long. On the other side of the tree, more voices now joined Victor’s and Carl’s. Our opponents were converging. As Arthur had said, there were far too many for three of us to take on unarmed.

  And I wasn’t going to uncover Ruth’s guilt or innocence standing around naked in the forest. No, we’d regroup. Head to Wolf Camp, where Luke should be waiting. Warn him about Ruth’s possible betrayal then return to gather my pelt once we’d evened the odds.

  Bastion spoke one millisecond after I made my decision. “Are we agreed then?”

  I nodded. Arthur, who’d been holding me back the whole time I pondered, loosened his grasp finger by finger.

  Unfortunately, the decision to retreat didn’t make the plan’s execution any less chancy. I picked through memories—Luke’s, mine, ours together—in search of a path that would be hard for Victor and Carl to follow. Because it wouldn’t be long before someone caught wind of our trail and....

  “Over here!” The shout was so close I swiveled, expecting to see a skinless.

  No one was visible, but the voice had come from the route we’d traveled to get here. With werewolf noses, our present location would be sniffed out in short order.

  Our time had officially run out.

  I DON’T REMEMBER EXACTLY how we escaped the second time. No, that’s not quite true. I have flashes of memory. Icy water. A valley of trees knocked down by a freak windstorm. We hopped from horizontal trunk to horizontal trunk until our scent trail became less of a path and more of a puzzle.

  But only half of my attention was on the present. The other half was spent guessing how Luke would react when he discovered Ruth had broken her vow to keep my identity secret. I stretched my mind, trying to contact him, despite agony throbbing behind both of my eyes.

  “Luke, are you there?” I timed my words to the beat of feet against pavement. We’d hit the road and were flying so fast now my heels ached from each impact. “Are...you...there? Luke?”

  Bastion and Arthur could have outpaced me easily given their ability to don wolf fur. But I was the one who knew where we were going and danger was more likely to arise behind us rather than before us. So even though we’d slipped our followers an hour ago, Bastion ran beside me while Arthur trailed behind.

  They loped along easily while each of my own footsteps was a battle of will. Would I collapse into a heap or continue pushing forward? It was no fun being human running from wolves. Still...we’d escaped.

  For now.

  I was a hair’s breadth away from collapsing when Wolf Camp’s big metal mailbox came into view ahead of us. I forced my feet to move a little faster. Turning into the driveway, howls were now so distant I could almost consider them melodic background music rather than terrifying heralds of murderous intention.

  Were our enemies getting closer? It was hard to tell. Still, I let myself slow as I picked my way along the weedy verge.

  Because there was no way I could run on gravel. Not when my feet throbbed with each footstep. Plus, the cabins, I knew from my time spent here, lay just around the next bend. We were almost home free....

  We were definitely close enough that Luke should have heard me. So I reached out for the thousandth time to contact him. “Be cautious with Ruth. I know she’s your sister but....”

  I had no chance to finish the thought. Because someone two-legged and naked stepped out of the trees between me and the cabins.

  Someone familiar and female. Scarred. Ruth.

  I recognized Luke’s sister easily, but her expression threw me for a second. Instead of her usual surly disposition, wild joy lit up her entire frame.

  She emanated triumph. Femininity. A power so intense she seemed to float rather than walk.

  Then our eyes met and her face shut down as she offered words I’d never heard come out of her mouth before. “Honor, I’m sorry.”

  The confirmation of her betrayal punched me in the gut.

  Chapter 30

  Arthur forced himself between us before I could answer. From behind, he could have been Luke, all broad shoulders and intensity of purpose. So I let him take point. Let him ask the question I didn’t want answered.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “The tokens.” Honor spoke to her feet. “Three of them. Too many. But that’s only halfway to forcing a Hunt. And it’s possible nobody went back to get them....”

  Three instead of two? Was Ruth talking about the magnets and sword I’d entrusted her with rather than my human hair and pelt? Was she trying to make it look like she wasn’t the one who’d tipped Victor off about my status as woelfin?

  Arthur shook his head while I was still trying to work my way through the maze of Ruth’s thought processes. “Not three. Five.” His fists clenched. “We lost two tokens in the forest. You know what that means.”

  Ruth’s ragged breath was either very good playacting or honest distress. “That the final token is in play.”

  They turned to face me, two skinless with an equal intensity of focus. I spread my arms, proving my point even as I made it. “I have nothing left to steal, so you can wipe that expression off your faces.”

  “You are the final token.” Arthur reached out as if to grab my shoulders. I sidestepped while he spoke to Ruth as if I wasn’t even there. “We can’t risk Honor being captured. I’ll take the pack car and get her out of here....”

  I was ready for his second try at restraining me. I slipped my arms between his as he reached forward. Twisted and slammed his attempted grasp aside. “Not happening. Ruth, where’s Luke?”

  Bastion was beside me now, lupine and growling. His presence provided leeway for me to pay attention to Ruth’s reply rather than guarding against another well-intentioned attack.

  “Gathering up the clan.” Her eyes slid away from mine. “That’s how I lost your tokens. I had them with me when I dropped Grace, Aunt May, and the kids off at her car.”

  I wanted to hear the rest, but this already wasn’t ringing true. “Aunt May left with my sister?”

  “A pack princess should have a female relative as chaperone.” Ruth’s lowered brow suggested I was an idiot not to have understood that without having to be told.

  Okay. Whatever. Skinless rules were currently irrelevant. It was time to get back on track. “Continue.”

  Now I sounded like a werewolf. But it worked.

  “Luke called me”—Ruth tapped her head in explanation—“when I was partway back. It was an emergency. Lone wolves working together, trying to herd the pack into a dead end. I went lupine to catch up.”

  She wiped one hand across her forehead and murmured to herself. “That’s no excuse.”

  Ruth appeared honestly distressed by what, in my opinion, was the least of her failures. So maybe my guesswork was off track?

  Still, it was awfully handy for her to be hanging around Wolf Camp while the rest of the pack fled from our enemies. And why would lone wolves—solitary by definition—band together? Had they been bribed to do so by Carl? As a distraction while Ruth took possession of the final token?

  “You didn’t answer my question. About Luke. Current location?”

  My tone must have been tougher than I’d intended because Arthur glanced at me quizzically. Bastion growled. Ruth’s nostrils flared, but her voice was even when she replied.

  “I don’t know where Luke is exactly. The lone wolves came at us around midday. They must have smelled our clan’s weakness. Luke took evasive maneuvers. He sent me here to meet you and help deal with Carl.”

  “Oh did he?” I wasn’t buying it, but I also couldn’t see why Ruth would make up such a convoluted story. For Arthur’s benefit, maybe? If so, it appeared to be working. The older man was glancing back and forth between us as if unsure who to believe.

  So I was down to Bastion as my only dependable ally. My feet throbbed. Running back toward the mai
n road would hurt, but I’d do it. The question was—where would I go from there?

  Rather than answering or attacking as I’d expected her to, Ruth tilted up her chin and sniffed the air between us. “You think I’m lying.” She narrowed her eyes, raised her voice. “Justice! Get out here.”

  It was a strange bluff. Stranger still when my cousin answered from the direction of the cabins. “Coming.”

  Justice was in on her plot? I shook my head. That wasn’t possible.

  “Bring my phone,” Ruth called back. Then, quieter, “Luke’s too far away for pack bonds, but you can call him yourself. Last I heard, he and the grannies were hot-wiring a pickup truck.”

  Justice materialized out of the darkness, phone in his hand. But he didn’t give it to Ruth despite her waggling fingers.

  Instead, his face was pained as he met my eyes. “Grace just sent a video-chat request. I accepted. She wants to talk about the scheidung now.”

  THE WORD scheidung stole my breath for a moment. Or maybe I was just surprised by Justice’s use of the language of our shared childhood.

  Because, while living next door to a passive-aggressive Grace in New York City, family had made more sense than the term I’d grown up with—wolfsrudel. Lately, among skinless, I’d fallen into the pattern of thinking of pack mates instead.

  Our ability to consider ourselves wolfsrudel, pack mates, or family were all in doubt if my twin wanted to talk about the trial divorce she’d instigated last summer. No wonder I could barely cling to the cell phone Justice handed over.

  I swallowed, glancing around at my audience. All except Justice had super-sensitive lupine hearing. I didn’t think I could handle holding this conversation with so many people listening in.

  The cabins were too far for my sore feet to carry me, but the pack’s dependable station wagon waited no more than ten feet from us. I addressed my question to Ruth: “Do you think I could take this in your car?”

 

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