Wolf Hunted

by Sadie Moss

  That didn’t help calm my fears. One of the nurses at the Strand complex had cracked her knuckles, and the sound had always made me cringe.

  “How long have you been able to do it?”

  He cocked his head. “I shifted for the first time when I was twelve.”

  My brows shot up, and I almost twisted my ankle as I turned to look up at him. “Twelve? How old are you now?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Thirteen years.” I drew the words out slowly. He was four years older than me, and he’d been shifting for over a decade. If these men were right, and I was also a subject of the Strand’s experiments, why hadn’t I shifted once yet? Brushing off my sudden worry that there was something wrong with me, I glanced at West. “What about you?”

  “My first shift? When I was fourteen.”

  “When did you escape Strand?”

  Jackson glanced over my head to meet West’s eyes before answering. “Six years ago. We all escaped together—the four of us. Been together ever since.”

  The look they shared made a sharp pain flare in my chest. It was just a casual glance, but it spoke of family, brotherhood, and love. I couldn’t imagine what they’d been through in the past six years, or what they’d experienced before that either. But whatever it was, it had cemented the bond between all four of them more deeply than even blood could.

  I wished I had something like that.

  “I can’t believe my mom just gave me up to the Strand Corporation like that,” I murmured, realizing only after the words were out of my mouth that I’d spoken my deepest hurt aloud. My voice wavered as I fought to keep it under control. “She went along with everything they said, told me they’d take care of me. But… she knew. The whole time, she knew.”

  Jackson leaned toward me slightly, bumping my arm with his in an affectionate gesture. The brightness of his amber eyes dimmed a little as he looked down at me. “I hate to tell you this, Alexis, but that woman probably wasn’t your mother.”

  My foot caught on a root, and I stumbled several steps, almost falling forward onto the soft ground. West caught my elbow, steadying me.

  “She… she wasn’t?” I whispered, my steps slowing.

  Some part of me had realized that the moment she’d shot at me. Even if she had been my mother by blood, she was no longer a mom in any of the ways that counted.

  Not if she could look me in the eye and aim a gun at me.

  Maybe knowing she wasn’t my real mom should’ve been reassuring—but it wasn’t. It didn’t change the fact that I’d loved her for as long as I could remember. It didn’t change the fact that she’d lied to me my entire life. And it didn’t change the fact that my real parents, whoever they were, had given me up somewhere along the line.

  “No.” It was West who answered, his grip on me tightening slightly as he spoke. “She was a Strand employee. They probably bought you on the black market or snatched you from the foster system when you were little. That’s how they got most of the younger test subjects in our complex. Some of the older ones were homeless. People no one would miss.”

  “That’s awful.”

  My stomach twisted with pity, until I realized I was also one of those people no one would miss.

  “Yeah.” Jackson’s voice was hard as glass. “It is.”

  “But… I don’t understand.” I shook my head, adjusting the backpack slightly on my shoulders as I walked. The straps were starting to dig in, the weight of the bag bearing down hard on my back, but I pushed the discomfort away. “Why? Why go to all that trouble? I lived at the Strand complex for years. Since I was eleven. All my memories from before I got there are fuzzy, but I always thought that was because I was sick all the time. They must’ve done something to make me forget.”

  “Seems likely. It wouldn’t be that hard, with the kind of pharmaceuticals they have access to.” West nodded.

  “But why?” I insisted. “That was such an elaborate setup, just to make me think I belonged there. Why do all that for me?”

  “Because you’re special, Scrubs,” Noah said from behind me. “Something about you is different, and important.”

  “Yeah, they didn’t do all those bells and whistles for us,” West added, his voice tinged with anger. “They treated us like fucking dogs.”

  Special.

  They’d used that word before. But I didn’t feel special.

  I felt alone, unwanted, and unloved.

  Tears stung my eyes, burning hot trails down my cheeks. I blinked rapidly but didn’t reach up to wipe them away. I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I was crying. I didn’t want to look as weak as I felt.

  If the guys noticed, they didn’t say anything, giving me time to process my grief privately. We lapsed into silence after that, the quiet stillness of the forest broken only by the crunch of our feet on the ground. With every step I took, I could feel myself getting farther and farther away from the life I understood.

  I was walking into a great unknown, a vast, uncharted territory, and fear of the future felt like a lead weight around my ankles, making every step drag.

  The backpack grew heavier and heavier on my back too. I wasn’t in bad shape, thanks to the regimen Erin—or whatever the fuck her real name was—had created for me. But I wasn’t used to being outside, wasn’t used to functioning on too little sleep with too little food and water. The one break we took at midday was hardly enough to restore my flagging strength.

  Don’t be the weak link, Alexis. Don’t give them a reason to leave you behind.

  Those words became like a mantra over the next few hours, repeated over and over in my head as I forced one foot in front of the next—tripping over roots and rocks more often as my strength and coordination faded. But none of the men surrounding me showed any signs of tiring. So I gritted my teeth and kept going.

  Until I couldn’t anymore.

  A wave of gray crept over my vision, and I pitched forward, landing on my hands and knees. My backpack slipped to one side, and the weight almost dragged me over. I dug my fingers into the dirt, fighting the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me.

  “Shit! Scrubs, are you okay?” Noah’s face swam in my vision, his stormy blue eyes worried.

  “Uh huh. I’m fine,” I slurred, unconvincingly.

  “Should’ve carried the damn pack myself,” he chastised under his breath, helping me sit up and tugging the backpack off my shoulders. I suddenly felt so light I thought I might float away.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Rhys stood over me.

  I hauled myself to my feet, the movement way too fast. I almost fell again. He reached out to catch me, but before he could touch me, I staggered away.

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” My voice was stronger this time. Pride and anger were giving my body the shot of adrenaline it needed. I would not allow Rhys to help me.

  “Bullshit, you’re fine.” Noah picked up my pack, slinging one strap over his shoulder as if the combined weight of two bags was nothing. He turned to Rhys. “She’s not used to this. She’s still basically fucking human, not to mention she’s been living inside a bunker. Shit, her wolf hasn’t even been called yet. We can’t just expect her to keep up with us. She needs a break.”

  “Goddamnit!” Rhys stalked a few paces away before coming back to stand in front of us. He clenched his hands into fists, and I noticed his knuckles were bruised and scabbed from his attack on that tree. “I fucking knew it! It’s already happening. We’re already changing everything for her! This isn’t a fucking Disney cruise, and if she wanted it easy, she shouldn’t have—”

  “What?” Noah’s voice was quiet. “Been abducted by Strand? Had her entire life stolen from her? Been ripped away from everything she thought she knew? None of us signed up for this, Rhys. All of us got a raw fucking deal. Remember that, or when we finally find Sariah, you won’t be the brother she deserves.”

  Rhys stared at him, his jaw set. He swallowed hard, but didn’t speak.

  “We need
to stop sometime soon, anyway,” Jackson put in. “We’ve gotta snag a new ride. No harm in getting a little sleep while we’re at it. It’s a long way to Washington state.”

  Washington.

  I wrapped my arms around myself as I processed his words. That was our final destination. Where the mysterious and possibly nonexistent “Lost Pack” resided.

  And I was headed there with four men I barely knew. One of whom clearly hated me, and none of whom I was certain I could trust.

  Chapter Eleven

  With a little more prodding from the other three, Rhys finally agreed it was a good idea to stop. I celebrated inwardly while remaining outwardly stoic. The truth was, I wasn’t sure how much farther I could go before I fell over and couldn’t get up again.

  Fortunately, we weren’t as far from civilization as I’d thought. Noah carried my pack as we trekked through the woods for another mile or so before emerging onto a small, two-lane road. Another ten minute walk led us into a small town that looked like its heyday had been several decades ago. Half the shops seemed to be closed up, and the paint on most of the buildings was faded and peeling. But I didn’t care. The hotel on the outskirts of town had a sign out front that read “Vacancy,” and I could already feel the softness of a pillow against my cheek, the comfort of a roof over my head.

  “We shouldn’t all go in,” Jackson said as we walked down the quiet street toward the hotel. “If four guys and a girl check into one room in a middle-of-nowhere hotel like this, they’re definitely gonna think something shady is going on.”

  “We’ll go.” West grabbed my elbow, pulling me toward him. “You guys go get us some food.”

  The others nodded, splitting off silently. I wondered if their attempt at keeping a low profile was pointless. All four of these men were distractingly handsome, and in a small town like this, I was sure we stood out whether we wanted to or not. But I didn’t voice my concern as West led me toward the old hotel. It was a two-story structure with a small parking lot out front. An office sat in the center, with two wings extending out and back from there. Room numbers were tacked to each of the doors.

  West opened the door for me, gesturing me inside the small, dingy office. There was a coffee maker on a little table set near one wall, with a half a pot of what smelled like very burnt coffee sitting neglected inside it. Old magazines were placed in a loose stack nearby.

  No one was behind the counter, but when the door slammed shut too hard between us, a voice called out.

  “Coming!”

  A middle-aged man with a trucker hat shoved over shoulder-length brown hair stepped out from the back room and leaned on the counter with both elbows.

  “Hey there, folks. What can I do for you?”

  “We need a room for the night,” West answered, stepping up beside me.

  The hotel clerk swept his gaze over the two of us, letting it linger on me. His thick tongue darted out to lick his lips as he cocked his head.

  I’d gotten used to being poked, prodded, and observed at the Strand complex, where it was an almost daily occurrence. But no one had ever looked at me the way this man was staring at me now.

  I hated it.

  It made my skin crawl—made me feel helpless and dirty, even though I couldn’t quite tell why.

  The man tossed his stringy brown hair over his shoulder, grinning at me. “A room for the night, huh? What kind?”

  “Double.” West’s voice had taken on a hard edge, and when I glanced over at him, I saw his jaw clench.

  The man seemed pleased by that answer for some reason. “Huh. Not a single? Can’t quite close the deal?” He winked at me. “You need a real man, honey? You just come find me.”

  He chuckled, still running his gaze up and down my body, as if he had every right to stare at any part of me he wanted for as long as he wanted. I shivered. I wanted to step back, to cower behind West. But the same instinct that had made me stand up to Rhys kept me still now.

  Fuck that. I wouldn’t run. I wouldn’t let this man think he had power over me.

  West’s arm slid around my waist, his large hand resting gently on my hip. He didn’t look at me though. His eyes were locked on the leering desk clerk, and I could practically feel the anger radiating from him.

  “You heard what I said. We need a double. One night. How much?”

  The man’s attention went to my side, where West’s hand curled possessively around my body. Then he flicked his gaze up to meet West’s, his lip curling. “Sixty.”

  “Fine.”

  West pulled me forward, keeping his arm around me. He reached into his back pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small stack of bills. With a loud thunk, he slapped them on the counter. I had stiffened when he first drew me into his side, but now I tentatively returned the gesture, slipping my arm around his waist under the pack strapped to his back. It felt a little strange, and I wasn’t sure where to put my hand. Finally, I reached around his front with my other arm and clasped hands, enclosing West in the world’s most awkward hug.

  The slimy desk clerk scowled, then rolled his eyes and grabbed the cash off the counter, turning to the wall behind him to grab a key card labeled 25. He chucked it toward West, then collected the—false—name the room would be rented under.

  Finally, West steered me toward the exit, only releasing me from his grasp to open the door for me again.

  We took a right and went up the stairs, following the upper walkway toward our rented room.

  “Thank you for that,” I murmured.

  “No problem. You must get creeps like him eyeballing you all the time.”

  I huffed out a mirthless laugh. “Actually, no. He was the first. The doctors at the Strand complex might be mad scientists, but at least they never stared at me like that.”

  West’s easy stride hitched, and he looked down at me with a grimace.

  “Oh, shit. Right. I’m sorry.” We reached our room, and he slid the key card into the lock. “Out here, it’s probably going to happen a lot. With the way you look? Creeps will come out of the fucking woodwork for sure.”

  With the way I looked?

  I’d never considered myself particularly attractive. I’d had a full-length mirror in my room at the Strand complex, and I’d sometimes stood in front of it, examining my naked body as though searching for weaknesses. Places where my disease might attack.

  My legs and arms were toned and my stomach flat thanks to my work with Erin. I had a small, elfin nose that came to a delicate point, a heart shaped face, and high cheekbones. I’d always thought my eyes were my best feature—although now, remembering how closely my “mom’s” had seemed to match them, I sort of hated the rich amber color.

  I knew what all the individual parts of me looked like, but I’d never really considered what they all added up to. What my appearance was like to an outside eye.

  A flush rose in my cheeks as I remembered the way West himself had looked at me the night before, when he’d helped me out of my hospital gown and into dry clothes. The way his gaze had slipped just for a half-second to take in the bare skin of my breasts. The heat in his eyes when he’d looked back at my face.

  But the expression he’d worn then hadn’t been anything like the look the hotel clerk had on his face. It hadn’t made my skin crawl. Instead, it had ignited a small fire inside my belly that still seemed to burn low, flaring with sudden heat every time West touched me or looked at me with his deep brown eyes.

  The hotel room door swung open, and for a moment, we just stood outside it. West’s hand rested on the handle, but he made no move to enter the room. I was sure he could read every emotion on my face, and I tried to push down the blood coloring my cheeks by sheer force of will as I broke away from his gaze and stepped inside.

  “This is nice.”

  I glanced around the small room. The carpet was aggressively orange, and chintzy watercolor paintings decorated the walls. Two large beds sat a few feet apart against one wall, and the rest of the space was
mostly bare.

  West chuckled. “No, it isn’t. You really have been locked up too long, haven’t you?”

  The heat in my cheeks increased. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  I sat on the bed while West dropped his bag and prowled around the room. He checked the bathroom then switched on the lights and tugged the curtains on the window closed. He leaned casually against the wall between the door and the window, peeking out through the space between the curtain and the frame.

  The room was quiet for a few minutes before the silence began to grate on me. I’d been used to days passing with minimal conversation at the Strand complex, but everything was different out here.

  Silence was no longer comforting like it had once been. Now it was loaded with millions of unsaid things.

  “Is Rhys okay?” I blurted.

  West’s eyes met mine, their dark depths soft and mysterious.

  “Yeah, he will be.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles of his biceps bunching and bulging. “We had to leave his younger sister, Sariah, behind when we escaped the compound we were all being held in. She told him to go—begged him to—but he’s been fucked up about it ever since, as you can imagine.”

  I bit my lip, pity for the ice-cold man filling my chest.

  “He was so sure Sariah was in that complex where we found you.” West rubbed the back of his neck. “It hit him hard. Now he’s mourning her loss all over again.”

  My stomach twisted. “But she’s not gone, right? I mean, she’s still alive somewhere?”

  West’s face was impassive, but his voice was heavy. “We don’t know.”

  His words settled between us, but before I could ask anything else, he whipped his head to the side, peering out the window again. He opened the door and waved outside, drawing the attention of the other three guys as they walked across the hotel’s parking lot. They changed direction, veering toward the stairs.

  When they were all inside the room, West kicked the door shut and slid the chain into place.