by Reese Morgan
Hayden did not miss the underlying warning in his tone. “I’m not going to tell anyone besides Nicolas.” She looked back towards the bonfire, contemplating the situation.
They were finally going to make their move.
Her fingers twitched with anticipation and her hopes soared.
Logan trained enough werewolves with basic combating skills that there would be enough fighters to accompany them and stay back to watch the others. They could destroy Celeste’s primary base with enough weapons and manpower to succeed.
“And the Hunters?” Hayden asked quietly. “Do they have any idea where Zane Donovan is being held? How long will they stay our allies if we don’t deliver our end of the bargain?”
Julian flashed his teeth in a semblance of a smile. “If our mission goes well, we will return the favor. We look for Zane next, targeting the other Hunters. It will be beneficial for us to eliminate the Hunters that oppose us at the same time.”
Hayden held her tongue, though she wanted to rebuke his comment.
There were already so many unnecessary deaths.
“Sounds like Kieran and Logan have everything planned.”
“More or less.” Julian pushed off from the pillar. “We will win this. I have no doubt.”
Hayden watched him go skeptically, noticing his arrogant swagger. She was enthusiastic they were finally going to make their move, but she didn’t share Julian’s unabashed confidence when it came to total victory.
She’d experienced far too many setbacks for gullible thinking.
Her attention landed on her pack. The picnic table that Devan had once occupied alone now housed all the pack members. They appeared gloomy, dejected.
Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Hayden moved from her position and grabbed a platter of food right off the table, much to the dismay of the people eating from it.
Approaching her pack, she set down the food and joined them. As much as she preferred standing back and keeping an extra eye on things, she knew Nicolas was watching from afar. If anything needed attention, he’d alert her.
The last time they had a gathering, they were easy targets.
It’s what made her hate this barbecue so much more.
Fortunately, the rest of the night proved noneventful.
* * * *
He was waiting for her when they returned. Just as she’d hoped.
“No leftovers?”
She smiled. “If you were there, you could have had your fair share.” Hayden closed the bedroom door behind her, eyeing Nicolas with anticipation.
“Fair enough. I’d much rather partake in dessert.”
The male sat lazily on the window seat and watched her from across the room. It was dark inside and outside, casting him completely in shadow. Nevertheless, his features were pale enough to discern the small smirk curling his lips.
He stood and Hayden took a step closer.
“Logan and Kieran are going to assemble everyone tomorrow to attack Celeste’s base.” She felt inclined to share the news right away, just in case she was preoccupied later.
She hoped she was preoccupied later.
Nicolas closed the distance and reached for her.
Both his hands settled on her cheeks and his thumbs traced her lips softly. “Would it be selfish if I asked you to turn off your mind tonight?” He leaned down, his broad-shouldered torso blocking out the crescent moon outside. “Just focus on me.”
Her eyes closed as he cradled her head back and hovered close to her lips. His scent was intoxicating, revitalizing. She wanted to be so close, yet he remained a teasing distance away as he awaited her response.
“I don’t think that’s an impossible request,” she managed to say, her pulse beating quickly with expectation.
It made her voice tight.
His hands abruptly dropped from her face and he grabbed her by the waist. He lifted her and Hayden wrapped her legs around his waist eagerly. She forcibly turned his face to hers, taking what he denied her with vigor.
Though she was the one to initiate the kiss, he controlled it, slowing her down, setting the pace with agonizing and seductive deliberateness. His tongue ran across her bottom lip before he took it captive between his teeth.
His nails dug into her back and he scraped down possessively.
She arched into him, her senses alight and wild. Her fingers slowly lengthened into claws and she curled her hands around his neck.
He bit her lip hard and deposited her on the mattress, forcing her to relinquish her hold on him. He was a commanding figure at the foot of the bed as he looked down at her. With a predator’s eagerness, he crawled onto the bed, hovering over her for a moment to establish his dominance.
Hayden bared her neck with compliance, her fingers twisting in the sheets as he hovered dangerously close to her, but still not touching.
“You’re such a tease,” she complained.
No matter how much she wanted to close the distance, she refused to arch into him.
His eyes danced, yet there was a hardness to his expression. An excitement. A male arousal. He placed a knee on either side of her and slowly unfastened her shirt. He made a noise of exasperation as he skillfully removed her knife holster and deposited it on the floor.
Clothed in nothing but her bra and pants, she was open to Nicolas’ scrutiny. He obsessed over her figure and his hand splayed over her stomach. The hand took up the majority of her abdomen and he kept it there, pushing her further into the mattress.
Leaning forward, and adjusting his hands to her hips, he gently kissed down her flat stomach. His thumbs slowly eased down her pants and his attention dropped even further.
Hayden’s eyes widened as his tongue played with the sensitive area below her hipbones. Then he eased her pants further down…
The door abruptly opened and Hayden flinched as the lights turned on.
Blake shouldered his way inside, looking everywhere but at the couple on the bed.
“Blake!” Hayden exclaimed, pulling up her pants as far as they could possibly go.
Her face burned madly.
Nicolas remained hunched over her, his eyes bright amber and his face forbidding at the interruption. His fingers clenched around her hips, a warning to stay immobile. She supposed walking in on a male werewolf eager to claim his mate would encourage a territorial response.
“Sorry, sorry,” Blake muttered, finally looking at Nicolas. Only Nicolas. His gaze focused on the rogue Alpha’s jawline, submissively avoiding direct eye contact. “There is trouble outside the perimeter. The Alphas are asking for assistance.”
The scruffy beta scratched the back of his neck at Nicolas’ continued scrutiny.
Hayden finally released a heavy sigh.
And then she laughed.
The amber in Nicolas’ eyes slowly bled away as he looked down at her. His fingers relented their harsh hold and he gradually removed himself from her. Deliberately, he stood in front of her, blocking her from Blake’s line of sight.
“What kind of trouble?” He grabbed his coat.
“Your rogues alerted us to puppets closing in.” Blake sounded anxious. “Quite a few of them, actually. They are still a distance away, but close enough to warrant concern.”
Hayden sat up, buttoning her pants and grabbing her shirt and knives. Upon hearing her fasten her holster, Nicolas turned to her. His gaze said it all.
“I’m coming with,” she stated firmly.
His lips thinned. “I want you to stay here.”
Hayden yanked her blouse on and leveled him with a disbelieving look. Lately, she’d noticed Nicolas’ increasing paranoia and stifling protectiveness. One of the reasons she admired Nicolas so much was because he was confident in her abilities to fight alongside him.
He turned and left the bedroom before Hayden could argue. Her attention landed on Blake, who looked back sadly.
“Don’t think too much about it, Hayden.”
“I’m not staying here.”
S
he stood from the bed and grabbed her hair. It was in disarray from Nicolas’ earlier ministrations. She braided it under Blake’s solemn observation.
“He just wants to protect you.”
“He’s never been like this before,” she argued quietly. “He always throws me into battle face-first and knows I will come out the other side.”
Blake shifted and leaned against the bedroom wall. “Clearly, he’s grown more attached to you, Hayden, and that scares him. He is afraid of losing you. He’s being selfish, but he’s also being human. He wants to keep you safe and unharmed.”
Making sure her hair was bound, and her clothing straightened, she stepped towards her beta. “But his overprotectiveness is not why I fell in love with him.”
Her statement caused Blake to stiffen and his eyes widen a fraction.
She realized what she’d said and looked down at her boots, trying to make sense of why she felt liberated after the confession. “I’m going after him,” she informed neutrally. “I’m not going to let him dictate my actions.”
“Nor should you.” Blake didn’t comment on her earlier comment and simply motioned toward the open door. “I’m not going to stop you.”
Looking for any signs of disappointment, Hayden could find none. Blake only looked at her expectantly, holding open the door. Throwing on her coat and grabbing her sword, Hayden exited the bedroom.
The pack watched her somberly.
She hesitated. “I’ll be back shortly.”
As she escaped through the front door, she immediately noticed a few werewolves and Hunters rushing towards the outside perimeter of the community. For a moment, she stood motionlessly on the front porch, flabbergasted.
Her attention fell on the Hunters, reluctantly admitting she’d been wrong.
They really were allies.
Bounding down the stairs, she started running after the others. Only, as she passed a house, she noticed a figure dart across the yard and towards the back of the home. Slowing down, she realized the house was the very same one she’d been watching earlier.
The front door suddenly opened and the familiar man exited. He slung a rifle over his shoulder and sprinted down the steps and across the front yard.
Hayden looked away, pretending to continue on her path. As soon as he was a good distance ahead of her, she stopped and made a sudden detour. Her steps were light, her eyes sharp. The figure she saw darting around the house was wearing a red baseball cap.
Shane was wearing a red baseball cap earlier that evening.
Adjusting her sword and using extreme caution, Hayden curled around the side of the house, watching the figure disappear into the basement through a sliding door. She flattened herself against the house, contemplating.
She shouldn’t.
Yet she found herself forgoing her hesitancy and following the figure.
The door was unlocked and she ducked inside the dark basement. She drew her sword, observing her surroundings. The lower level had high ceilings, but it was entirely unfinished with concrete floors and exposed framing. Heavy construction plastic hung from the ceilings, separating rooms crudely. Empty sleeping bags and rumpled sheets littered the ground, the smell of human strong to her senses.
Off to the side, there was a single room with drywall. A very bright lamp was on the ground, illuminating the walls and exaggerating their brightness.
“It will only be a bit longer and then we can let you go.”
Hayden’s back stiffened.
It was Shane.
“Spare me the false consolations, Shane,” a rough voice responded. “How is my daughter? Is Kieran taking care of her?”
Her mind raced as she quietly approached the room. She tried to pinpoint an identity with the unfamiliar voice and struggled with the realization. The only female Hayden knew intimately from Kieran’s pack was Rylee Donovan.
Rylee Donovan, the daughter of Zane. The very same Hunter who they agreed to rescue. The very same Hunter kidnapped by enemy Hunters. The very same man who held the loyalty and respect of the Hunter community.
He’d been here the whole time.
With her limbs heavy with dread, Hayden inched inside, observing the bars stretching from the floor to the ceiling to create an unsophisticated prison. Discarded paper bags littered the floor, and underneath the smell of human feces, the scent of stale, old food hit her nostrils.
So this was what the female Hunter brought to the house every day.
Food for Zane.
Lifting her sword, she pressed the tip harshly against Shane’s unsuspecting neck. He stiffened, but he did not turn around.
“Hayden,” he whispered, unsurprised.
It was if he wanted her to follow.
“What is this?” Despite her budding panic, her tone was cool and level.
The teen sighed and Zane watched the interaction from the corner of his cell. Hayden didn’t spare him much notice, her attention focused intensely on the human standing in front of her. Digging her sword deeper into his neck, she growled at his silence.
“Leverage.”
“For what?” Hayden demanded.
“To keep the other Hunters scattered, compliant. To keep the traditional werewolves here under false pretenses.” Shane exhaled heavily. “I had no choice, Hayden.”
“We’re sleeping among enemies,” she clarified numbly.
“Aren’t you a smart one?”
A muzzle to a gun pressed into Hayden’s skull.
She tried not to flinch, though it took a great deal of restraint.
She hadn’t heard anyone approach, an indication of her enemy’s uncanny covertness ability. Hayden inhaled, smelling the human female behind her and the silver bullets loaded in the gun currently pressed against her head.
“Not too smart,” another voice, this time male, sounded further. “Considering she came in here alone.”
“Don’t kill her,” Shane protested quietly, his back still turned to Hayden. “She’s—”
“I am well aware of who she is,” the female drawled. “Consider me underwhelmed.” She pressed the gun further into Hayden’s skull. “Drop the sword. Now.”
Judging from the woman’s tone of voice and mannerisms, Hayden knew the female would shoot instantly if she detected any sort of defiance. There was another Hunter further in the room, most likely aiming at her turned back as well. Perhaps she had enough speed to cut them down without getting shot, but Hayden didn’t want to chance it.
They were trained to stand opposite of werewolves.
Her fingers tightened on her sword, but she slowly lowered it and let it clatter on the ground. A set of keys slid across the ground next to her sword, hitting Shane’s boot.
“Open the cell, Shane.”
The human clumsily reached for the keys and the sword, picking up both and scrambling away. He intentionally avoided looking at Hayden, his features drawn harshly as he unlocked the cell.
The gun nudged her. “Get in.”
Hayden complied, staring at the far wall as the door shut and locked behind her.
“There will be werewolves looking for me.”
Turning, she stared down the barrel of the pistol just inches from her face. Instead of being intimidated, a sense of resilient stubbornness encouraged her to chance fate. Inhaling the poisonous silver, Hayden leaned forward, curling her hands around the bars of the cell and positioning the pistol directly between her eyes.
She taunted the female Hunter.
The brown-haired woman’s mouth twisted into an ugly smile as she tightened her hold on her weapon. “Your werewolf friends will be a bit preoccupied, sweetheart.”
“Alyssa,” the male Hunter barked warningly.
The woman shook her head. “I’d like to paint the walls with her.” Her hand was entirely steady and firm. “She was solely responsible for their deaths.”
Hayden’s eyes narrowed with slow realization.
She assumed the other woman was talking about the snipers in the trees
Hayden had killed with throwing knives. Somehow, word had gotten out to the other Hunters about her feat and her identity. Hayden hadn’t been proud of the victory, in fact, she’d felt nauseated but obligated at the time.
It was kill or be killed. She’d wanted to protect Addie, Devan, and all the other werewolves who ran blindly toward the trap.
“Both my brothers,” Alyssa breathed, deranged. “My husband.”
With a quick glance, Hayden noticed a wedding ring still claimed her left hand.
“And Shane’s father.”
At the admission, time stood still and her lungs failed her.
Hayden pulled her head away from the gun and looked at Shane imploringly, not wanting it to be true.
But Shane’s expression confirmed it was the truth. His face was blank, but a hint of angry sorrow shadowed his features. He stared at her intensely, looking for any sort of repentance from her.
Hayden had none.
She hadn’t known.
At the time, she hadn’t paid much attention to the Hunters’ identities. Even if she had, she’d only seen Shane’s father once or twice. She wouldn’t have recognized him.
The apology was at the tip of her tongue. It truly was, though she found herself unable to speak. What was she supposed to say? Sorry? A single word could not possibly balm Shane’s devastation. She’d have to do it all over again and make a different choice.
Upon that consideration, a very unsettling realization struck her.
Even if she had known his identity, she’d still drive the knife through his skull.
A sharp, desolate coldness settled in Hayden’s chest. She stepped back and pressed herself against the concrete wall, wondering when she’d turned so callous.
“Were you the one to tell Celeste about Nicolas’ scouting mission?” she asked Shane numbly. “Were you the reason he was in danger?”
Was he responsible for Troy Arnold’s death?
Shane shifted, clearly guilty.
“Nicolas Slayter should have died on that mission,” the female Hunter proclaimed. “He only bought himself a few extra days amongst the living. Tonight, you will experience what Shane and I have gone through. Your pack, your mate, and the rest of the traditional werewolves will be crushed.”