by Cat Kalen
As I settle my thoughts, I can feel Stone inside my head, surfing around and sorting through the images in my mind, but before I can stop him, before I can tell him I have everything under control, the sound of the window smashing penetrates the quiet inside the cabin.
My eyes snap up and briefly connect with the officer’s before we both turn in the direction of the sound. My heart lurches as the hunter draws his gun and takes aim at the boy about to attack.
In a fierce possessive rage, Stone shifts midair and dives for the man’s throat. The officer peels off a shot, but it goes wayward and lodges in the ceiling as Stone pins him to he floor. Stone presses down on the man’s chest and the weight of his body forces the gun from the hunter’s hands.
Ruled by his primal side, Stone’s roar echoes in the stillness of the black night, and his large, deadly canines flash in the thin column of moonlight as animal bloodlust takes over.
“Stone, no!” I cry out, but there is nothing I can do to calm him, nothing I can do to stop the feral animal bent on his own agenda.
Fear propels me forward and I let loose a loud howl as I prepare to pounce, but Logan steps in front of me to shield me from danger. Looking hard and dangerous as shards of silver bleed into a storm of blue within his eyes, I gulp air and wonder if he, too, is going to go wild on me. But when I look at him, really consider the boy standing over me, I see him for what he is. Strong. Steady.
In complete control of his animal.
“Don’t go near him, Pride,” he warns. “Not when he’s like this.”
With that, Logan tears off his clothes and shades. Despite having just warned me, he flies through the air, his beautiful sleek body catching lift before he clamps down on the back of Stone’s neck. An explosion of violence erupts in my ears as he gives a savage shake of his head. Stone yelps, his jaws unhinging as the powerful alpha tears him clear off the hunter’s body.
Panting hard, the officer lets loose a cry and scrambles backward. He swipes the blood from his neck and reaches for his gun, but even in the middle of a deadly battle Logan has enough foresight to kick it my way before the officer can grab it. It scuttles across the wood floor, out of my reach.
As the situation goes from bad to worse, my glance locks with the officer’s, and I know our thoughts are running in the same direction. We both dive for the gun at the same time, but I manage to reach it seconds before he does. He lands with a hard thud, and I quickly tuck the weapon into the back of my jeans, then grab hold of his shoulders to drag him away before he gets caught in the crossfire.
With my breath coming in ragged bursts, I turn my attention to the two alphas. While neither is packing a weapon, they’re both packing deadly fangs, and even though we have regenerative abilities, there is no way an animal can come back from a torn and shredded jugular.
In an untamed fight that could end in death, Logan and Stone roll across the floor, and the fresh scent of blood fills the air as they rip into each other’s flesh. Frantic, and knowing I need to neutralize the situation before one of them ends up dead, I give the officer a deadly glare.
“When I’m done with these two, you have some explaining to do,” I warn between gritted teeth, then pull the gun from my waistband.
I hold it over my head, but the officer jumps me, his large palm wrapping around my wrist. As he shackles my arm, I jerk away, but when he says, “Don’t, they’ll hear it,” my brain comes to a screeching halt.
As I digest his words, my eyes study him, and when I see real worry lingering in the depths of his gaze, I understand what he’s warning me about. It also becomes glaringly apparent that if he were really working against me, he would have let me fire and signal his team.
Taking that as a good sign, I announce, “But they already heard one shot.” A shiver moves through me as I look out the smashed window and listen for signs of his comrades’ approach.
The two shaders crash against the cabin wall and the floor below me shakes violently. Blood smears on the wooden slats, and I have no idea how this fight will end, because while both animals know each other’s strengths, they also know each other’s weaknesses.
The man gives a fast shake of his head and the action draws my attention. “One shot lets them know someone is out here, two shots will give away our location.”
As I think about that a loud, painful yelp stabs through my thoughts, and I know things have gotten completely out of hand. I turn the gun over in my palm and consider my next move. If a second shot brings the officers, could this be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for? The opportunity to reason with them.
“Don’t,” he says, impatience sharpening his words. He narrows his eyes, and when he sucks in a sharp breath, I realize he knows what I’m thinking. In a low warning voice, he says, “Don’t take on more than you can chew, kid. You’re not prepared.”
Before I can explain what I’m trying to accomplish, my father comes bursting through the front door. Wood splinters and hinges twist as he tears his way into the cabin. The sound echoes in the night and while a single gunshot might not give away our bearings, I realize the noise of a crashing door surely will.
The look on my father’s face is terrifying, and when I glance past his shoulders to see Gem and Sandy huddled beneath a tree, Gem trying to soothe a stricken Sandy while Nova runs away like a scalded cat, I realize how desperate things have become. I tuck the gun back inside my waistband for safekeeping and turn my attention to my father.
“Enough!” he bellows, the bite in his command stopping the other shaders cold. He walks up to them and grabs both alphas by the scruff of their necks. They snarl back as his angry glance goes from Stone to Logan back to Stone again and his voice lacks any sort of tolerance for their antics when he says, “Stop shading.”
A second later both boys return to their human form, and as they pull their clothes back on, my father’s glance takes in the girl caged in the corner before he turns his focus to the officer braced against the wall.
“What’s going on here? What is this place?” he asks. I remain hunkered beside the officer, my animal 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 animal instincts when they were warning me of danger—warning me about Nova.
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 door frame 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 o
ut 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 an animal, fully grown 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 show of power cost him.
The girl whimpers, and my stomach revolts with the sight of her stuffed in that small cage. Remaining in a crouched position I move away from 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.
“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. 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.
Eyes guarded and uncertain, the girl crawls out, 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. 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.
I know what he’ll do.
Pain shivers through my nerves and I prepare to shade. 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.”
“I can’t leave Stone out there.” 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.”
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?
My animal 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 silver 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 shading as he rushes outside.
“Meet me at the vehicle,” is the last thing he says before he completes his transformation and gets swallowed by the dark, dangerous night.
Chapter Seven
After hurrying back to the SUV, everyone climbs inside, but I’m too frantic to sit still. With a pile of clothes in my hands, I pace the dark forest, my ears perked for sound, my animal ready to take chase should she need to.
I scour the dark woods and worry about Logan’s and Stone’s safety. There is nothing I can do to keep my anxious mind from conjuring up deadly scenarios. As I fret and my imagination kicks into high gear, I hear the 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.”
I flick him a glance. “Stone doesn’t.”
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 distance a shot rings out. Anxious and on edge, I wring Logan’s shirt with my fists, and while I listen to the echo of the bullet whisper through the wind, I also wait for the sound of a fallen shader.
“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 from taking chase.
I catch another sound, and I brace myself, my ears perked. 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 shaders 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 hair 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 skin.
Logan is the first to stop shading 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 chest, 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 stops shading, 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 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.
“Log
an?”
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.”
“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 although 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.
Staring out the side window, I watch the black pavement fly by, and when I think about 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, 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 winding road.
I have no idea where we’re going or where he’s taking us, but I can’t seem to get the words to ask 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 gearshift 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.