Hunter's Heart: An Alpha Pack Novel

by J. D. Tyler

  Long legs pumping, he ran full out, never letting go of her wrist. Daria stumbled, heart in her throat, as more of August’s goons rounded the opposite side of the house to intercept them. He veered off and cut through the gardens, using the lush greenery as a cover of sorts from the bullets pelting around them.

  Panic washed over her. She and her mate possessed special abilities, but even they would stand little chance against dozens of bullets. How had August learned they were here? For now they were forced to abort their mission. But if they survived this crazy scenario, she’d find a way for them to double back and finish what they’d come for.

  Ryon hesitated, scanning the wide expanse of cultivated lawn in front of the estate. Surely he didn’t mean to do what it appeared.

  He did. The man sprinted across the yard, heading straight for the imposing iron gates at the end of the lawn. Beyond that was nothing but forest. They couldn’t have been more exposed if they’d posted targets on their backs, and there was no time to liberate a copter from her uncle.

  They skidded to a halt at the gates next to the keypad, and he thrust her toward the panel.

  “Do you know the code?”

  Men streamed around the house, rifles poised, closing the gap.

  “Dad gave it to me, but there’s not enough time—”

  “The code, Daria!”

  Daria punched in the numbers as he dropped to a crouch, tucking the pistol in his waistband and whipping the M16 off his back. So many of them. It struck her as pathetic, one lone man against August’s force. Like an ant biting an elephant.

  Her mate fired several rounds and they responded in kind. She hit the ground with him, praying as the pop and groan of the mechanism began to swing open the gates. Tiny puffs of dirt kicked up by gunfire came much too close.

  “Go! Go!”

  Daria shot to her feet and slapped the button to close the gates again, then he hurled her toward the opening. The gates began to reverse direction, and he just managed to slide through after her before they clanged shut.

  Clasping her hand, he dragged her through the dense forest, changing directions several times. Once, he halted at the base of a tree, grabbing a heavy backpack he’d left hidden close to the estate. He shrugged it over his shoulders without missing a beat. His pace never faltered, save when the thick undergrowth hampered their progress. Eventually the yells of August’s goons faded and disappeared. She’d always stayed in good physical condition, but she thought her lungs might explode if he didn’t slow down.

  No matter. She’d die before asking him for any favors because she’d practically forced him to allow her to come. He might’ve read her mind. Where the foliage gave way to a tiny clearing, he stopped and turned to face her, his broad chest heaving.

  Sweet Jesus. He affected her like this every time.

  Her mate was a sexy beast. Camouflage pants hugged his long thighs and a matching T-shirt with the sleeves cut out displayed the ropy muscles in his arms. Tousled blond hair fell into his blue eyes. He stood with his booted feet planted apart, his gaze like twin lasers raking her in kind. Two hundred pounds of powerful male.

  All mine.

  Yes, yours, he agreed. His sculpted lips turned upward in his handsome, angular face. A mocking smile, rife with challenge.

  Then the reality of their tenuous situation intruded. “That was an epic fucking fail,” she groused. “August knew we were coming, or discovered our presence after we arrived. Now what?”

  “We retreat, have the team pick us up. We’ll have to figure out some other way to get what we need.” His face, however, reflected bitter disappointment.

  “Absolutely not. We can’t give up now.”

  • • •

  Ryon studied his mate’s reaction with fascination. Whether she knew it or not, her whiskey brown eyes were windows straight to her soul. They brimmed with righteous indignation, and no small amount of fear. She looked so lost standing there, so disconsolate, as though she took their failure personally. The idea didn’t sit well.

  “We did the best we could.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  She stood, fists clenched, holding his gaze. Clearly she hated backing down.

  “I’m proud to have such a brave mate,” he murmured, curling a hand under her chin. “But it’s not worth the risk.”

  “Yes, it is!” Angry, she jerked from his grasp. “Ben is worth the risk! He’s a good man who doesn’t deserve what they did to him!”

  His gut churned. Ben again. Always that goddamned Ben Cantrell, standing smack between him and his mate.

  Did the man have any idea of the gift he’d so carelessly lost? Her long raven hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail and hung halfway down her back. Her large brown eyes were set in a face that would put any angel from heaven to shame. Tiny laugh lines at the corners of her lips evidenced a passionate woman who often found much joy in her world. The coldness in her stare right now made him loathe the argument that had recently wounded it.

  “You know, Ben is part of your past,” he said stiffly, striving to keep the hurt and jealousy out of his voice. And failing. “Keep looking into the past and your future just might pass you by. Didn’t someone say something similar to me recently?”

  She stilled. “You’re going to throw that in my face now?”

  “Maybe you should figure out once and for all what it is you want, that’s all. Let’s go.”

  God, this was going to be a long hike. He could feel Daria glaring holes in his back.

  Arrogant jackass!

  “What did you say?” he called over his shoulder.

  “Nothing.” He could practically hear her grit her teeth in annoyance.

  No. He wouldn’t let her anger get to him. Better that she was mad at him than to have her uncle’s men catch up with them.

  “How far do we have to walk? I assume you’ll do your Telepath thing and have the team pick us up?”

  “Eventually. We’re off the route we took coming in. From the map, we’ve got thirty miles to go, give or take.”

  Daria’s protest was swift. “Thirty miles? That’s sheer lunacy!”

  “What other option do we have? Our wolf forms could handle the trip better, but we have to forgo that because we need our supplies. Besides, you’re fit,” he pointed out. “You spend half your year in the Shoshone doing research.”

  “Yes, but I’m not typically fleeing through it at a breakneck pace.”

  “Need I remind you that you insisted on coming along?” A huff of annoyance was his only answer. “When we reach the rendezvous point, I’ll contact the team and they’ll pick us up. And for the record, I don’t like giving up any more than you do.”

  Silence, thick and heavy.

  He wasn’t capable of forcing her to talk any more than he was able to make her see retreat was for the best. So he started walking, keeping the pace brisk but making certain she was close behind. As they went, he reached out to his commander.

  Nick? The op was a bust. We got inside, but somehow August knew we were there.

  You two okay?

  Yeah, but it was a close call. We’re using the alternate escape route, but it will take us a day or more to get to the rendezvous point.

  All right. Let me know when you get close and we’ll be on our way. And Ryon, be careful.

  He smiled at the real concern in Nick’s tone. Will do.

  He wasn’t sure how long they’d been under way, but it must’ve been hours before her breathless voice cut into his brooding.

  “Can we rest for a minute?”

  He stopped and turned to face her, wry amusement tugging at his lips. “And give August a chance to catch up? Sure, why not. Maybe he’ll be so overjoyed to see you that he’ll just kill me and spare you. It’ll be a regular family reunion.”

  Ignoring his teasing, Daria shrugged off her backpack, snatched her canteen from inside, and took a draw, careful to conserve the precious water. When finished, she replaced the cap a
nd squinted up at Ryon, who watched her without comment.

  “Tell me the story of how you and your SEAL team were turned in Afghanistan,” she said quietly.

  He sucked in a breath, wondering if this was some new strategy to prove her point. But he sensed no deception, just an honest desire to know his beginnings as a shifter. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear—”

  “Stop protecting me! Trust me to know when I’m ready.” Her eyes narrowed, her jaw set.

  “All right. When we make camp, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Ryon tensed, then narrowed his gaze in the direction from which they’d come. “Break’s over. We’d better get going.”

  The heat and humidity of the day escalated as they walked until there wasn’t a dry thread left on either of their bodies, which didn’t do much for their already touchy dispositions.

  Ryon pushed on, indifferent to her temper. They stopped only once more for a quick drink of water. “You hungry?”

  “Unless you have a T-bone steak hidden in your pack, I’ll pass.”

  “Nope. But I have dried beef, MREs, and energy bars. Or we could always skin a lizard.” He waggled his brows, and with a snort, she grabbed her pack and started walking again.

  That was the end of the subject of lunch.

  Daria was visibly relieved when he announced they’d better find a place to make camp. His chest swelled with pride as he studied his brave mate. She was making the best of an unavoidable—but temporary—situation.

  “Right here,” he said, pointing.

  Ryon led the way into a gnarled mass of vines and overgrown foliage. About twenty yards in, he located a spot where the grasses on the forest floor and the surrounding plants had formed a bowl-shaped bubble perfect to hide them.

  Leaving the M16 slung across his back, he swung the large pack to the ground and retrieved a rolled-up piece of canvas strapped in a side holder. He popped it open with a snap and in short order had a small tent in place just big enough for two.

  Ryon looked at her and nodded. “It will be hotter than Hades with the thing zipped up, but we should be relatively safe from things that walk, crawl, and slither.”

  “We could just sleep outside in wolf form,” she noted. “It would be cooler.”

  “It would, but if your uncle’s men catch up we’ll have to run and leave all of our stuff behind.” He shrugged. “We could do that, I suppose. We’d just have to drink out of streams and hunt like real wolves to eat.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “As much as that idea pleases my wolf, the idea of tearing into raw animal flesh doesn’t do a thing for me.”

  “Then we camp like humans.”

  She glanced around. “Shouldn’t we start building a fire before it gets dark? To keep the other critters away.”

  “Not unless you want to post a message in neon lights telling August where to find us.” He gave her a considering look. “Or maybe you want to have it out with him.”

  “I do, but not out here, like this.”

  A flicker of remorse went through him. Heaving a weary sigh, he strode to his pack without a word. He fished around and brought forth two silver packets of MREs, followed by two small metal bowls and spoons used for camping. Placing the bowls on the ground, he knelt and tore the tops off both packets, then poured one into each bowl. Last, he added a bit of water to each and stirred. Finished, he sat cross-legged and held out one of the bowls.

  “Your dinner awaits, madam.”

  Daria walked over and sat beside him. “It only looks slightly better than freshly slaughtered rabbit.”

  “Sorry. The Four Seasons seems to have misplaced my reservation for this evening.”

  Sitting beside him, she laid a hand over his. “I don’t mean to sound like such a bitch. You’re doing the best you can under the circumstances and I’ve given you a hard time. I want you to know that you are the most important thing to me.”

  He swallowed hard, trying not to appear as vulnerable as he suddenly felt. “Am I?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “Tell me what happened that day.”

  “This is hard for me to talk about.” Encouragement shone in her whiskey eyes. After a long moment, he began his story as the shadows lengthened in the forest.

  “There were six of us on the SEAL team together—me, Jax, Aric, Zander, Micah, Phoenix, and Raven. It was so hot that day, we were about to melt.” He laughed softly, the pain always there, under the surface.

  “Little did we know that more than half of us were about to die. But not at the hands of any enemy we’d ever seen in our worst nightmares . . .”

  • • •

  6 years earlier . . .

  “Jesus Christ, I’m rank,” Raven bitched, scratching at his crotch. “When I finally get to change this underwear, it’ll probably walk off.”

  Micah grinned. “With assistance from the crabs you caught from that woman in the last village.”

  “Shut up, needledick. She did not give me crabs.”

  A few of the guys chuckled but Ryon wasn’t paying much attention. He was thinking about his mom and sister, wondering whether he’d make it out of this godforsaken hellhole to see them again. Forget sex. Sweet baby Jesus, what he wouldn’t give for a huge bowl of his mom’s peach cobbler smothered in vanilla bean ice cream.

  Would he be home by Christmas? As they trudged onward, he dreamed of how great the reunion would be. If he got leave, he’d surprise them. Just show up at the house and watch Mom and Lisa screech with joy when he came through the door. He’d bring lots of presents, champagne, and—

  “Hold up,” Jax whispered, coming to a halt. Tensing, he studied the mountain forest around them, and frowned. Somewhere hidden in the greenery, a footstep crunched to their left. Another to their right. And one from behind.

  Ryon and Micah exchanged a fearful look. This area was supposed to be clear, and they couldn’t have reached their target’s stronghold already. God, they were surrounded!

  Then, the forest went silent. Those few heartbeats that followed the utter stillness, those seconds before their lives changed forever, as he locked gazes one by one with Aric, Raven, and the others would haunt him forever.

  Thud, thud, thud.

  The ground trembled and the leaves shook. When a deep-throated roar split the air, Aric jumped, pointing the muzzle of his M16 into the trees, hands rock steady, a bead of sweat dripping off his nose.

  “Fuck,” Micah whispered. “What the fuck is that?”

  Ryon stared in horror. The thing that broke through the foliage to their left stood erect on two legs, and was more than seven feet tall. Covered with a thick mat of grayish brown fur, it had a long torso, two arms, muscular shoulders, and a head sporting two upright ears and a long, snarling snout full of sharp teeth.

  It looked like a creature that was half man, half wolf. He and his team stared, mouths open, fingers frozen on their triggers.

  How things might have been salvaged, disaster averted, they’d never know. Because their buddy Jones started screaming, pumping bullets into the beast’s chest. After that, everything went to shit.

  The creature staggered backward and then rallied quickly, rushing Jones. With a swipe of a paw the size of a dinner plate, the big bastard ripped out Jones’s throat, tossing him aside like a twig. Then it pounced on Raven, biting into the vee of his neck and shoulder as the man screamed.

  They opened fire just as several more of the beasts emerged from the forest. It quickly became apparent that while their bullets could wound, it would take something with far more power to kill them. Aric dropped into a crouch and desperately palmed a grenade as his friends fell all around him, waging a battle they couldn’t win. The one who’d killed Jones shook Raven like a rag doll, released him, and ran toward Aric, who let a grenade fly. It hit at the target’s feet and exploded, sending the damned thing to hell. But it wasn’t enough.

  Micah went down, his knife in hand, slitting one’s throat. Bu
t another jumped on him, and his struggle was short-lived, his scream terrible. Jax fell next, then their CO Prescott, Zan, Nix, and so many others. All of them, one by one. Dead or dying.

  Unsheathing his own knife, Aric spun to face the beast coming up on his flank. “Come on, bitch,” he hissed. “Let’s dance.”

  Ryon lost track of the battle around him as one of the creatures rushed him. Barreled into him like a freight train and took him to the ground. His M16 was knocked into the air, raining a spray of bullets into the trees. The weapon landed several feet away, useless.

  Frantic, Ryon called on his gift as a Telepath. It was all he had. Help me, somebody! Oh, God—

  Razor-sharp claws tore into Ryon’s stomach and his agonized screams joined those of his comrades’. There was no one to help. Nothing to be done. The creature jerked him up and tore into his neck with those massive teeth, blood soaking them both. Dimly, he became aware of Aric shouting his rage at the beasts.

  “Take that, cocksucker!”

  As the creature dropped Ryon, he saw the impossible—Aric unleashed a blast of fire from his palms. The flames shot out and engulfed one of the beasts, which dropped to the ground, screeching and writhing as it burned. Aric torched three more wolves, then more still, until the fire was depleted. Suddenly the flames died, and one of the remaining beasts advanced, wearing a sinister expression that could pass for a grin. Aric faced it head-on, without flinching.

  “Come on, you ugly fucker. Come to papa.”

  Whether it understood, Ryon couldn’t have said. But it ran at Aric, and his friend braced himself. The beast took him to the ground and his back hit hard as Aric pulled the pin of a grenade.

  The wolf brought its nose to Aric’s, mouth open, fangs dripping with bloody saliva. Seizing his opening, Aric rammed his fist down the beast’s throat, pushing his arm as far as it would go. Immediately, the thing gagged and jerked backward reflexively, clawing at his shoulder and arm to dislodge him. Aric scrambled back as far from the beast as he could.

  The grenade detonated, spraying fur, blood, and entrails everywhere.

  Ryon lay there, his lifeblood flowing from his body. Strange that in this place of soul-searing heat, he could feel cold.