by Eva Gordon
Cricket tilted her head at him.
Two beta wolves attacked him.
He gave her a quick glance and roared. “Run!”
Cricket dodged the bigger wolves and dashed toward the woods.
Agrippa growled. “Bitch will die!” She shifted and dashed after her.
Slade killed two lycans before shifting. He leapt off the stage and barreled into startled wolves. They acted confused, not knowing if they should respectively bow to their prince or challenge an enraged alpha.
Wolfstrom shouted, “Capture my son and let his mate kill the runt.”
Ignoring the incoming werewolves, he chased after Agrippa before she killed his Abella. The exceptionally large alpha bitch would make mincemeat out of Cricket.
Fuck. He had a plan. A stolen keycard. A rope in his room to repel down the mountain with Cricket, but all went to shit, when his so-called lord and master commanded him to slowly murder her. How would they escape with an entire pack in hot pursuit?
Slade caught Agrippa’s foul scent and Cricket’s sweet aroma. His Abella headed toward the bridge over the moat. They kept the bridge up at all times. Did she figure out a way to lower it?
A loud whimper shattered the night.
Slade skidded to a stop. Abella. No! He released a primal growl and bolted toward the cry.
Life no longer mattered. He’d kill Agrippa, kill Henrik and rip the flesh off Wolfstrom. Stop their evil plan. Honor Abella by completing the mission.
Behind him, the yaps of a pack convinced him to run and attempt to scale down the mountain.
A prone white wolf lay on the trail. Agrippa. Her neck broken. Cricket killed a bear, but a healthy powerful female in the prime of her life?
A large gray wolf leapt in front of him.
Slade growled, but caught the familiar scent. Nikolay the captured Siberian werewolf.
He snapped in his Russian accent, “Quick, bridge down. Escape!”
“I must find my companion.”
“Your comrade is on other side of bridge.”
“But, how…?”
“As you say in America, piece of cake.”
They ran toward the bridge. Between the bright full moon and their wolf night vision, they easily navigated the path.
At last. As they drew closer to the bridge, his heart soared in joy. Cricket had made it across the lowered bridge. She bounced up and down wagging her tail like a puppy anxious to play. Oh, yeah baby, we are going to play. His gladdened heart re-energized his sore muscles, and he ran faster. Nikolay had no problem keeping up with him.
Fuck. The bridge began to rise.
“Jump,” snarled Nikolay.
They leapt and clutched the side with their claws just as the bridge went vertical.
Slipping.
Cricket yowled, “Hang on!”
Her voice the only encouragement he needed, Slade pulled himself up and dragged his claws over the wood.
Nikolay on the other hand slipped and hung on by one claw.
Slade turned. “Quit slowing us down.” He grabbed Nikolay by his nape and hauled him over. They tumbled down as the bridge locked into place.
Wolfstrom’s pack reached the edge, growling and howling.
Slade licked Cricket’s nose and she his, but their reunion was short lived. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
The bridge lowered again, but, fortunately, slowly.
Nikolay chuckled. “No hurry.”
Slade’s ears pricked forward. Didn’t he almost fall to his death? “Are you mad?”
Nikolay shifted to human form and a clipped mobile fell to the ground. As if he had unlimited time, he picked it up and pressed a short sequence of number. In seconds, an explosion ripped through the bridge taking part of the cliff with it, widening the span. No way was anybody getting out any time soon.
Slade shifted to human form and so did Cricket.
Cricket cheered, “Yeehaw!” She turned to the brawny blond lycan. “I’m starting to like you…?”
“Nikolay, but pretty lady can call me Nik.”
“I’m Cricket.” She held her hand out.
Slade stepped in between them. “She’s mine.” Why did he say that? She was not his. Must have been the threat of nearly losing her.
“Of course, comrade, but as you say in America, we better get out of Dodge.”
Cricket pointed toward the left. “I smell another road about a mile that way.”
“An old farming road.” Nik grinned. “Maybe we can have sheep for dinner then find transportation.”
Slade stared at the burning bridge. “We need more than a tractor to get away. They keep two helicopters on the castle roof.”
“Helicopters disabled,” smirked Nik. He handed her the small mobile he used to detonate the bridge. “Call your contacts.”
Cricket took the throw away from the resourceful lycan and smiled. “I’m really starting to like you.”
Slade used his body to cover her flesh from Nik’s gaze. “Who are you?”
“I’m Russia’s secret weapon. Only werewolf in Russian Special Forces. Explosives and sniffing out mines my specialty.”
“Cool.” Cricket beamed.
A tinge of jealously burned his gut. “Humans can’t know about our kind.”
He stared at his hands, and his voice lost gusto. “Only commander knows and he died trying to keep Wolfstrom from abducting me.”
Slade sensed his deep pain. “Let’s shift before they call in backup from the lab facility.”
“Rylee has the coordinates. Once we get farther away, I'll call her again.”
Slade lifted a brow. “You sent her our coordinates?”
“Yep. I mean the coordinates to the lab facility.”
“I’m really starting to like you,” Slade repeated.
“Thought so, since I’m still alive.”
Slade drew her in. “Of course, I wouldn’t…”
Nik interrupted. “No time for, how you Americans say, makeup sex.”
Slade nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”
They shifted and ran toward the road. Cricket slowed them down, but he didn’t give a damn. As long as she was with him, he wouldn’t mind crawling on his belly to escape.
Nik lengthened the distance between them. He turned and commanded, “Cricket, turn human and ride on Slade’s back.”
Panting, she nodded, shifted and climbed on Slade’s back. “Good idea.”
Slade grinned and ran at full speed. The feel of her soft naked body hardened his cock, making him wish they could stop for a quickie.
In the dead of night, they arrived at a small sheep farm. The sheep ran and bleated, threatened by their presence. Odd, no sheep dog. Cricket slid off Slade’s body. “Before we wake the farmer, I’ll hotwire that pickup truck over there.” She ran naked behind the barn to the parked vehicle.
Slade snarled. “Wait.” He shifted to his human form and caught up.
She opened the truck’s door. “There’s no time.”
Slade opened the back door and found an extra-large soccer ball t-shirt. “Put this on, before Nik gets here.”
“I am here, comrade,” he grinned, giving her a wolfish glance.
Get over it, comrade. Cricket slipped on the oversized t-shirt that covered down to her knees and then returned to hotwiring the car. It turned over, too loud.
A light in the cottage went on.
Slade scoffed. “A werewolf sheep rancher.”
“Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Cricket adjusted her oversized t-shirt and rolled down the window. At least it hid most of her assets from the attentive Russian werewolf and her not so pleased alpha lover. “Jump in!”
Slade sat in the front seat. Nik shifted to wolf form and leapt into the pickup’s bed.
Full tank. Cool!
The lycan, an omega, sprung out of the house, rifle in hand and shot several rounds.
Cricket floored the accelerator, and they peeled out of the gravel driveway and reached the
main road. After five minutes, she pulled over and texted Rylee. “Done.”
Slade pulled out a beat up map and then scanned the area. “Any idea where we’re going?”
“Not sure, but as far from Wolf Lair and the research facility as possible. I told Rylee to destroy the research facility.”
“What are the coordinates?”
Cricket relayed them to Slade, started the engine then drove back on the road.
Slade stared at the map. “According to this map and the coordinates, we’re in the Fitz Roy, Patagonia area. Near the southern border of Chile and Argentina.”
“Practically the south pole.”
“Puerto Natales. A town with a port.”
She handed him the phone. “Call Rylee. Tell her we need pick up.”
“Got it.” He dialed the phone. “Good reception, bars up.”
Rylee immediately picked up. “Cricket?”
“It’s Slade, ma’am.”
“About time. I take it Cricket is at your side.”
“Driving.” He put it on speaker.
“Hi, ma’am.”
“Good work, Agent Cricket. Our contacts are in route to destroy the bioweapon facility. Their ETA is forty minutes. Just get the hell out of the area.”
“Yes, ma’am. We are miles away from the target.”
Slade stiffened. “What about the unchanged ones?”
“They are in a forest fifty miles away from the target. Team Greywolf led by Dominic picked up their heat signature and are on their way.”
“But they don’t remember who they are.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get them expert help.”
“Hope so.”
“Hang tight, we are on our way to pick the two of you up.”
“Three, ma’am. Nikolay, a lone Russian werewolf, helped us escaped. You’ll love his style.”
“Really?”
A black helicopter silhouetted against the sunrise roared toward them.
“Ma’am, looks like we have company.”
“Bad company. Get the hell out of the vehicle. We’ll pick up your heat signatures.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cricket slammed on the brakes. “Time to go wolf.”
They left the engine running and leapt out, racing away.
Behind them, a missile struck the truck.
They dashed into the woods as the helicopter landed. In wolf form, they raced toward the scent of salty air. The port. Rescue.
Wolfstrom’s stench accosted her nostrils. His men at the lab facility must have picked him up at Wolf’s Lair Castle.
Hard to keep pace with Slade and Nik, she slowed. Better to act as a decoy. Lead them astray. Counting on Wolfstrom being more pissed off at me.
Cricket whirled, focused on the closest werewolf and threw every ounce of her forty-five pounds on the beta.
Stunned, he stumbled back.
Cricket sunk her sharp fangs into his wrist, and he dropped the gun. She grabbed it in her jaw and returned to the forest. Behind a large tree, Cricket shifted to human form and readied her weapon.
“You bitch.”
She shot him as he charged with his other gun. That’s not nice.
“Over there,” shouted another lycan.
Cricket hid behind a boulder and aimed. She pulled the trigger. One down, then another.
Henrik shouted, “Drop it and we can talk.”
“Done talking.” She aimed and fired. Shit! Missed.
An arm gripped her in a headlock. “Where is he?” barked Wolfstrom.
Cricket had not scented him. His stench masked by the cloaking vaporo. She rasped. “Your son?”
“Yes, damn it.”
Talk about delusional. “Gone.”
Henrik stepped forward. “As long as we have her, he’ll return.”
Wolfstrom grabbed her hair yanking her head back. “Call him.”
“Fuck you.”
He drove a claw into her shoulder and dug in. “Scream.”
She winced, but remained silent.
“Henrik, show her what it feels like to have an earlobe cut off.”
“With pleasure.”
Cricket shifted and slipped from Wolfstrom’s grip. She could always count on her small size.
Henrik and Wolfstrom shifted and gave chase.
Maybe heading back toward the dock was not such a bad idea. Her shoulder where he’d stabbed her with his claw ached, but she ran driven by pure adrenaline.
Wolfstrom caught up quickly and grabbed her by the neck.
Cricket yelped. His fangs dug into her, and the scent of her blood dizzied her.
Slade broke his run and turned. “What the fuck!” Cricket. Nowhere in sight.
Nik snapped. “Hurry, I see the dock.”
“No.”
Nik whirled around. “Look, if they catch us we’re dead.”
“I’m not letting her sacrifice herself.”
“Once we reach your comrades, we’ll have a chance to rescue her.”
“I’m going back.”
“You are one crazy fuck. Go ahead.”
Gunshots echoed followed by frightening silence. Crap!
Her yelps shaded his good senses. Mine. He snarled in uncontrollable rage and raced to kill her tormentor.
Wolfstrom stood over a mound of bloodied fur. Abella!
Henrik raised his tranquilizer rifle and fired at him.
He dodged and the dart whizzed past him. Close.
Slade roared and charged Wolfstrom. They rolled in a furious clash for supremacy. Only the victor would leave the battle. Wolfstrom’s large muscular frame hammered him to the ground with brutal alpha power, brimming with Griswold’s insane strength.
Slade’s equal. No. His superior.
He fought Wolfstrom, not just to stay alive, but to save Abella.
Cricket stood and blinked. The attack happened fast. Slade, a blur of white, passing over her. Her hero. No! The sinister alpha had the advantage of size and the taint of Griswold’s blood.
She stared at Henrik. His fangs out, salivating perhaps from blood lust at the sight of Slade’s white fur darkening with blood. He didn’t risk shooting his master during the heated battle between two raging alphas.
Cricket’s shoulder bled. Her torn flesh hurt like hell. She had to kill Henrik. How? Physically fighting him, not an option. If she could make it to her dropped gun. Or Nik. Where was he?
Henrik drew out a dagger and walked toward the titan wolves, fingering his missing ear. “Payback time.”
Her wolf awoke in fury so great her pain no longer mattered. Mine.
Cricket leapt and hamstringed him. Ripping through his tendons. Tasting flesh.
“Fucking bitch!” Yelping, Henrik dropped the dagger, staggered and pummeled to the ground.
Cricket scrambled away as he dragged his sorry ass toward her. He might be crippled, but enraged enough to ignore the pain and kill her. She limped behind a boulder. A barrier to shift back to human form and run on two legs to save her shoulder from severe agony while running. The earth shook for a moment. She grinned. Bye-bye lab.
Abella! Slade twisted to look. Cricket scampered into the woods as Henrik held the back of his torn thigh. Pride in his little wolf filled his heart.
Wolfstrom sank his fangs into his throat. He drew his canines close to Slade’s artery and death, but hesitated. He growled, “Submit!”
One squeeze on his carotid and his life would end. His death meant hers. Slade whimpered. “I…submit…master.”
Wolfstrom eased his grip.
Shame filled Slade’s gut. His little wolf had slain a bear and hamstringed an alpha. A surge of an unnatural fierce vigor flooded through him. He threw Wolfstrom off, raking him with his hind claws.
Wolfstrom slammed on the ground, recovered and snarled. “I made you my son!”
Slade snarled. “The spirits made you unworthy of having pups.”
Wolfstrom stalked toward him, his hackles up, his eyes glowing orbs. Demonic. “We can rule tog
ether.”
“You’re an oath breaker!”
“Think of it, one supreme species with no need for human comforts. A predator to rule the herds. It’s what our creator Stallo wanted.”
“Never.”
Wolfstrom grinned. “My pack will tear Cricket apart. Join me. I’ll let you keep her in your den. Fuck her anytime.”
“Let her go and I’ll join.”
“She stays. For food or for fuck, your choice. Naturally, I get the first fuck.”
Slade lunged. “Die!”
Wolfstrom met him in midair.
No more compromises. Their growls echoed as they each used claws and fangs to tear, shred, rip and annihilate.
Distant wolves howled. Wolfstrom’s pack. Cricket had bigger problems. She had shifted to human form as Henrik shifted into the hybrid wolf form. The maddened werewolf stalked her, dragging his torn useless leg.
She threw his fallen dagger, stabbing his chest. He yelped and yanked it out.
Not deep enough. Oops. My bad.
He glared. “Kill you.”
Catch me if you can, ass. She ran, knowing at any moment his pack would pounce on her. Unless Nik returned to help.
Henrik stopped, cocked his head, and then suddenly ran in the opposite direction.
What was that all about?
A death yelp strangled her heart. No! She shuffled back to Slade. Not caring if Henrik waited. He didn’t.
Slade stood over Wolfstrom’s lifeless body, growling at him. The evil alpha’s throat and guts, raked out.
She smiled. “Safe to say, he’s dead.”
Slade’s blood-soaked white coat worried her. He shifted to human form. Bites, slashes and bruises riddled his body.
Cricket didn’t care, she ran and hugged him. “Oh, Slade, my love.” Oops, love, was not the appropriate word, but it’s what her heart blurted out.
He grabbed her face with his bloodied hands. “Abella, I thought I lost you.” He kissed her gently and then fiercely as if claiming her as his.
She moaned in pleasure, despite the fact, their passion was short lived. The wolves’ howls grew closer.
Cricket stiffened.
Slade let go, still in the rapture of romance after killing his enemy. “What’s wrong?”
“Wolves. At least twenty.”