Un.Breakable (Slayter Series Book 4)

by Reese Morgan

  As he got up to attack Nicolas, the rogue Alpha had him on his back once more.

  And again.

  Hayden watched, impressed, but immensely jealous. Nicolas intentionally put Tobias on his back as often as possible, a lesson to show the man who was the dominant male and the rightful Alpha to the pack.

  After another humiliating fall, Tobias leaped to his feet and shook his head. There were no significant bruises or injuries to his person, evidence that Nicolas was simply provoking him.

  “You’ve proven your point.” He looked at Hayden and the others, his eyes wide with unsuppressed rage. “You can have them. Take them.”

  Storming into the crowd, they parted for him.

  He kept walking, his muscles coiled and his shoulders stiff. Hayden watched as he continued into the trees without looking back. She wondered if he would leave the reservation with his tail between his legs or if he planned to join another pack.

  “Blake Martin will be my beta.” Nicolas’ soft words broke the silence. Bending, he gathered his coat from the ground. “He will be acting Alpha in my absence.”

  Refastening the coat’s buttons, he smoothed down the nonexistent wrinkles.

  Without another word, he disappeared just as silently as he arrived.

  While conversation broke out amongst the werewolves, Hayden remained quiet as she watched his retreat. She had the strongest urge to go after him, the strongest need.

  The only thing that stopped her was her uncertainty of what she’d say, what she’d do, once alone with him.

  4. Chapter Four

  “He’s not coming.”

  Blake and Fergus shared a look upon Hayden’s blatant observation.

  Though the two males did not speak, their expression said it all. Nicolas was not coming. She wasn’t going to New York to see her mother.

  Hayden found the loose thread on her coat and pulled it dourly.

  “I don’t think he would intentionally forget this, Hayden. He seems to honor his word… at least when it comes to you.” As much as it probably pained Blake to say it, he seemed genuine in his proclamation.

  Sitting on the stairs that led to their unpretentious cabin, Hayden looked off into the distance. According to Blake, Nicolas planned to pick Hayden up early that morning. It was noon now, and the rogue Alpha was nowhere in sight.

  Though she wouldn’t see her mother, her worry for him outweighed her disappointment. Blake was right. Nicolas always followed through for her.

  “I know,” she replied quietly, unsettled. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  Blake and Fergus shared another look.

  “He’s Nicolas Slayter. He’ll be just fine, Hayden.”

  “That’s what we thought about Cole,” she countered, her voice thick with emotion. “We put him on a pedestal and look at where that got him.”

  She stood up and flattened her coat, avoiding their concentrated observation. Several werewolves left an hour earlier for a supply run into town. Addie and Devan were gone, accompanied by a few males from other packs capable of combat and protection.

  For the most part, the reservation was quiet. There were only a few werewolves loitering about in the open.

  “I’m going for a run,” she declared.

  Blake could have stopped her, or at least lectured her about the dangers of going out alone. Instead, he stepped aside, giving her the room she decreed.

  “Be safe. Be smart.”

  Giving a distracted nod, Hayden sprinted off, cutting through the trees. With nothing but the sound of her feet hitting the snow, she allowed herself a moment of contemplation.

  Nicolas was in trouble. She knew that. Her body was restless, her wolf especially antsy. Somehow, she could sense his agitation, a prospect that should have been impossible considering they weren’t lifemates.

  However, they’d always been in tune with each other.

  Hayden wasn’t going to start questioning it now.

  She needed to make a decision. Blake wanted her to be smart, but how could she stand aside and let Nicolas face danger alone when he’d always stood by her? She doubted the traditional wolves would accompany her if she went looking for him.

  Despite what he’d done for the pack yesterday, not much was said on the subject. Fortunately, there were no scornful words from the pack.

  They’d all seemed subdued last night, lost in their own thoughts.

  It was clear Nicolas never intended to take Cole’s place, which was why he proclaimed Blake the acting Alpha in his absence. No matter how anyone looked at it, the eldest Slayter did them all a favor by preventing Tobias from inheriting the Alpha position.

  Crossing miles with little effort, Hayden stopped at the edge of a bluff.

  Placing a hand against her forehead, Hayden closed her eyes against the turmoil in her chest. Her pulse raced crazily and her body nearly trembled with anxiety.

  Something was wrong.

  Something…

  She didn’t think all these feelings had to do solely with Nicolas.

  Exhaling heavily, Hayden nearly missed the popping sound of distant gunfire.

  Dropping her hand, her eyes shot open. Pupils dilating, she looked into the distance. Her position at the top of the bluff allowed her to see far south, more specifically, towards the small town where the werewolves received their supplies.

  She strained her ears, hearing nothing but the soft thumping of rabbit’s feet and the thumping of her own, wild pulse.

  Her body remained coiled, waiting.

  Consecutive fire rang out and Hayden jerked in that direction, her instincts telling her to run. To protect. Devan and Addie were there, in trouble. There was an off chance they’d returned already, but Hayden doubted it.

  They’d left only an hour ago.

  Her hands flew to her coat, touching the throwing knives. Her sword was back at the cabin, as were the other werewolves. They probably hadn’t heard the gunfire from their position, too many trees and bluffs sheltered the reservation.

  Hayden needed to go, now, but she wasn’t going to run in blindly. She also wasn’t going to waste time running back to the reservation for help. She’d be backtracking.

  She decided to compromise.

  Tipping back her head, she howled.

  Crows cawed angrily as their flock soared from their resting places. Their wings flapped powerfully and the trees swayed as they all took flight. Hayden’s eyes remained closed as she channeled warning into her call, as well as desperation.

  Blake would hear.

  Her beta would distinguish her cry.

  After a brief pause, an agonizing silence, a howl signaled back in the direction of the reservation. As soon as she registered it as Blake, Hayden sprinted down the bluff and towards town. The sounds of gunshots had quieted, but that simply pushed her faster.

  Blake was coming.

  He most likely wanted her to stay put, but her instincts to protect her pack members outweighed patience. She’d done her part of alerting the others, now she needed to see what she could do in the meantime.

  Her legs burned as she pushed herself quicker, faster.

  Gunshots meant one thing.

  Hunters.

  She doubted Celeste would have her wolves carry rifles. It would be redundant considering their strength and resilience. No, these were Hunters. They may be humans, but Hayden knew better than to underestimate them.

  Only several minutes passed as she ran, but it felt more like hours.

  The excruciating impatience of the unknown ate at her. She had no idea what to expect upon arriving at the town, and she tried not to think of the worst.

  Small explosions sounded and Hayden flinched, reminded of the time the Hunters blew up the pack homes back in Albertville. In the near distance, angry, black smoke blossomed and swelled, the smell of raging fire hot in her nostrils.

  Her face crumbled before it firmed stubbornly.

  Faster.

  A few more shots rang out as Hayden cl
osed in on the small town. She could hear screaming and a few people sprinting around wildly. As the trees grew sparse and thinner, she saw six, prone bodies lying on the ground.

  The bodies were sprawled in the middle of the small town.

  Hayden recognized the males as the party who’d accompanied Addie and Devan to gather supplies for all the werewolves. Moreover, the single bullet hole to their foreheads proved their enemies possessed sharpshooter skills.

  Her attention did not linger too long on the fallen, too experienced to know the longer she studied the gore, the sicker she’d become. Dwelling on the fallen would not help Addie or Devan, both whom Hayden could not find.

  The town was empty for the most part.

  A few humans ran wildly from the stores, but the Hunters seemed to identify them as non-threatening, for they left them untouched.

  Crouching, Hayden looked into the trees, focusing intently on anything abnormal or out of place. There, a few yards away, a man steadied both himself and a rifle on a sturdy branch. His attention focused on the town, unaware of Hayden’s scrutiny.

  Skimming past him, she gazed deeper into the woods, noticing two more men in trees. They were snipers and they already eliminated the male werewolves who’d accompanied Devan and Addie.

  Hayden hunkered lower to the ground as she moved closer to the first Hunter.

  As she moved, she gained a better vantage point into town.

  Her body froze as she watched two Hunters drag an unwilling Addie and Devan out of a shop by their hair. A silver blade pressed against both their necks and a third Hunter trailed behind with a rifle.

  For a brief moment, Hayden lost herself to her fear.

  She watched as the Hunters forced both women to their knees in the middle of town, as if setting out bait. And it was bait. Good bait. Hayden remembered learning that experienced Hunters caught females just to lure the males into the open.

  Male werewolves became less powerful if a female was in danger.

  They planned to lure the werewolves into town, Hayden realized, to pick them off one by one. She only counted a total of six Hunters, three in the trees, and three on the ground near the shops.

  She could not smell any humans in near proximity, only the strong, toxic scent of silver. Hunters used it to cloak their scent, knowing the presence of silver would distract any werewolf predator.

  Her attention focused on one of the sniper’s waists, noticing grenades attached to his belt. Though there may not be many men, they certainly came prepared.

  Hayden fiddled with the lapels of her coat, contemplating.

  Blake and the others were still several minutes away. Logically, the smarter thing to do was intercept the others before they arrived in town. She’d warn them of the hidden snipers and the cleverly constructed trap.

  As soon as the thought occurred to her, however, she heard more gunshots in the distance, back towards the direction she’d came.

  Her body turned cold.

  She felt trapped.

  The Hunters were going to wipe them from existence. They would kill them off and no one would be around to destroy Celeste and her creations. The Hunters truly didn’t know what waited for them; they were destroying the traditional wolves, the only possible allies against Celeste.

  Hayden plunged a hand into her jacket, finally coming to a decision.

  The silver blade was cold against her skin as she held it between her two fingers. In the tree, the Hunter was completely motionless, as if he knew the smallest of movements would alert possible enemies.

  Fool.

  He didn’t realize how perfect he was for target practice.

  Hayden tossed the throwing knife. The weapon spun through the air and embedded into the back of the Hunter’s skull.

  Immediately killing the man, the body slid limply from its perch.

  Her feet flew over the snow quickly, silently. She reached out, catching the corpse before it fell and created enough noise to alert his comrades.

  Still, she practiced little respect as she deposited him on the ground, gathered her knife from the back of his head, and stealthily approached the next Hunter.

  A part of her screamed that this was too easy, but then she realized the Hunter’s had expected charging male werewolves in hoards. They did not expect a lone female who carefully scouted her surroundings, choosing to leave the females at the hands of the enemy just to pick apart the most pressing targets.

  Running in blindly to save Devan and Addie was not rational.

  She had to take down the snipers first.

  Taking up stance, she threw her throwing knife, which was stained crimson from the previous Hunter. It gleamed before embedding into the second man’s brain. The Hunter twitched madly, his fingers clenching and unclenching on his rifle.

  The rifle fired at nothing in particular before he fell.

  Hayden flinched, realizing she needed to act quickly.

  Catching the corpse once again, she settled him onto the ground and retrieved her throwing knife. She quickly dodged the attention of the last sniper, hiding behind a thick tree and breathing heavily.

  Her heart pounded in both her ears and her throat. She shuddered and tensed, trying to gather herself. Upon the misfired rifle, the last Hunter would notice his missing comrade. He no doubt already trained his weapon in her direction, or perhaps he was scrambling down the tree to escape the sleuth attack they hadn’t expected.

  She pressed a hand to her face, trying to eliminate the weakness.

  Her weakness.

  She’d never killed like this before. They were human, they were… faultless and fragile despite their beliefs that all werewolves had to die.

  Dropping her hand from her face, Hayden twirled around the tree trunk and sprinted to the third Hunter in the tree. As expected, he had his weapon trained in her direction.

  He fired and she dodged the silver bullet, throwing her knife across the wide expansion, confident in her ability to hit the man.

  True to form, it embedded in the middle of his forehead. He dropped from his high branch, and Hayden slowly made her way towards the last sniper.

  She stared down into his wide, dim eyes, feeling something ugly twist in her chest. Reaching down, she dislodged the throwing knife from his bloody forehead, trying to pretend this was nothing but another number, another mindless enemy of Celeste’s.

  Something small poked her in the ribs and the smell of silver grew oppressive.

  “Don’t move.”

  Hayden scoffed. She was a fool for not keeping an eye on her surroundings.

  Adolf would have her neck.

  “What do we have here?” the voice crooned, his Southern drawl evident. “A female warrior, eh? Throwing knives is a rather intricate skill for an animal like you.”

  Feeling the rifle prod between her ribs, and knowing it would be an immediate execution, Hayden remained completely still. She was caught. Immobile. Completely at mercy to this man—this monster—behind her.

  She had eliminated the snipers, but she’d overlooked the watchman, the seventh member of their makeshift group.

  “You’re mistaken,” Hayden replied quietly, keeping her body as still as possible. “I was told to retrieve the weapon. That’s it, I swear.”

  She felt him hesitate at her words, only because the prospect of a female warrior seemed too unreal, far too unrealistic. Both the Hunter and the werewolf community knew females weren’t especially motivated to fight.

  That fact alone could aid her in this particular situation.

  “Where is the male?” The Hunter poked her harshly in the ribs.

  She paused, inclining her head just a margin. “He has his next throwing knife trained on you, obviously. In the woods, there, just to your right.”

  The rifle loosened its pressure on her ribs and Hayden turned abruptly, too fast for the human eye to track.

  “Kill the females!” he bellowed out loudly upon Hayden’s attack.

  She bent the end of the
rifle just as it fired, using her opposite hand to punch the man in the temple. He went down hard, but his warning echoed clearly across the town. Hayden grunted, sprinting into the clearing, closing in on Devan and Addie.

  The rifleman had his weapon poised.

  He was her first target.

  She threw the dagger and he was too slow to dodge it. He went down with a dagger in his throat. The next possible target was the man who held his sword against Devan’s throat. As he brought back his sword to behead her, Hayden tossed a second knife in his direction.

  He went down as equally as hard.

  Scrambling, her breath unable to squeeze past her tight throat, Hayden dug into her chest holster for her third knife. As she withdrew the weapon, the man next to Addie abruptly sliced his sword through her neck.

  Hayden stared, wide-eyed as the blade cut through her throat like butter. Addie was the vision of an unafraid, accepting victim. Her face was impassive. The blue eyes she shared with Nicolas were hard, unyielding as she greeted death.

  That face would haunt Hayden forever.

  Her third throwing knife found its victim far too late.

  Hayden sunk to her knees as she watched Addie’s head detach itself from her shoulders and fall to the ground. She’d seen decapitation before, but never had she expected to see decapitation from someone she’d loved, someone she vowed to protect.

  Her breathing came out in gasps.

  Devan scrambled away from her dead attacker, gawking horrifyingly at Addie’s frail, fallen form. Her mouth moved frantically as she said something to Hayden, but Hayden couldn’t hear her.

  She was far too preoccupied with Addie.

  A hand touched her shoulder, rousing her from the depths of her grief.

  “Hayden.” Devan shook her fiercely. “Hayden!”

  Her legs stood, though she did not feel present. She found herself scrambling to her feet to appease Devan and to acknowledge the threat they were both in here, in the open. She ran to retrieve her knives before leading Devan out of the town.

  She didn’t look back at Addie’s broken corpse.

  How could she?

  Though she was half-aware of the other female following behind her, Hayden couldn’t do much more to comfort her pack member. Her mind was back with Addie; her loyalty was back with Addie.