by Sadie Hart
Immediately, Bree turned back to Rylie but both she and Hunter were gone. Nothing but the blood splattered snow and footprints left behind. Shit. The rogue had run straight for them. Her heart pounding so hard in her chest Bree could barely breathe, she bolted after them, praying it wouldn’t be too late.
Please don’t have let me have gotten them killed.
Chapter Eleven
Hunter cradled Rylie in his arms as he headed down the hill. He flinched at the sound of a gun going off, not a hundred yards behind him. His whole body jerked as he fought the urge to turn around, the wolf in him snarling under the surface, wanting out. Bree was theirs to protect, just like the woman in his arms. She might not agree, but he’d be damned if he could leave someone behind to face down a madman—whether she thought she could or not.
And yet, against the screaming wolf inside him, Hunter kept hurrying down the trail. She’s done this before, he told himself. As a Hound she had to have faced off with more than her share of armed shifters. She knew what she was doing.
It didn’t make heading down the mountainside any easier. Especially not when the second gunshot rang out. Please don’t let her be hurt.
He wouldn’t forgive himself for leaving her there if she got herself killed. If he got her killed by leaving. Hunter picked up his pace; cradling Rylie’s head to his chest, he damn near ran down the snow-slick trail. His footsteps were light, swift, and the snow kicked up behind him in plumes as he slid into one step and then the next. Only sheer will kept him upright and moving.
Rylie stirred in his arms, a soft moan sounding from her and Hunter held her tighter. “Don’t,” he ground out, panic making his voice rougher than he’d intended. “You’re safe now.”
It was a lie, they weren’t safe yet, but it was better than the truth.
“Hunter?” Her voice was gravelly, hoarse, and his name sounded half broken on her tongue.
“I got you,” he murmured, slipping down another embankment.
Her fingers curled in his jacket. “Thank God.”
The sigh of relief in her words made his heart clench. She should have never been taken. She should have been safe all along. And if Bree didn’t make that bastard pay for taking a member of his pack, Hunter would.
Another stride and his foot caught over a rock under the snow and he staggered. Hunter managed to catch himself, holding Rylie tight in his arms, but glanced up at the slope just as a wolf barreled into his side. Rylie went spinning out across the hillside as teeth snared in his coat, ripping through the fabric. Hunter let out a growl. He slammed a fist into the wolf’s side and the animal let him go, rolling across the ground.
Hunter lunged for the sleek gray animal, but the wolf snapped at his hands and tore off into the woods. Instinctually, Hunter felt his wolf rise under his skin, desperate to break free, to give chase. To hunt down the rogue like the prey he was.
But Rylie’s soft cry behind him stopped him in his tracks.
Hunter glanced back up the trail. Bree.
“Shit Bree, be okay,” he said to the wind swirling around him as he moved toward Rylie sprawled out in the snow bank. He scooped the woman up. Her eyes had drifted closed once more, but her breathing was still steady. He wanted nothing more than to head back up the trail and find Bree. Just to make sure she was okay.
His jaw tightened and he took a step back the way he’d come. Then, just beyond a tree he saw the flash of her coat, bright yellow against the crystal white snow. His heart slammed in his chest and his breath froze, baited, as he waited. She slid down a small hill on the trail, snow skimming her boots as she ran, only to jerk to a halt as she saw him.
Relief flashed across her face and Hunter had no doubt he had the same expression on his.
Thank God.
“I thought—” The words died in his throat as he looked at her, the gun in her hand, her face flushed with a fight. But there wasn’t a mark on her. “The gun shots.”
God he sounded like a bloody fool. Babbling on without making a damn bit of sense.
Her lips curved into a smile as she reached him. “He took off straight towards you. I thought the same.”
Her gaze darted to the tear in his coat and then to Rylie. “She okay?”
Hunter jerked his head in a nod. “Took a tumble, but I’d say she’s had worse. Heartbeat’s still steady.”
Bree glanced out at the forest around them and Hunter stiffened as an icy wind slid past his skin, colder than the air out side. It prickled, raw energy, and he knew it was the Hound in her letting loose her magick. “He’s gone. At least, he’s out of my range. Let’s get her to a hospital and call in the real Hounds.”
Hunter let her turn him back down the slope and towards the parking lot at the base of the trail, but he couldn’t help the snort that sounded from him. The real Hounds? Bullshit. They hadn’t done a damn thing to help him here. Oh sure, they’d put on a front. Acted like they’d cared. But Bree had been the one to pull out all the stops. She’d been the one to truly help him.
She might have quit Shifter Town Enforcement, but she was more of a Hound than the entire pack in White Pine as far as he was concerned.
And she was sure as hell the only Hound he would ever rely on.
***
Bree sat in a waiting room chair in the hospital, her head leaned back against the wall as she stared up at the ceiling. She’d passed the weapon over to Shifter Town Enforcement when they’d arrived, as well as a detailed accounting of what had happened.
The woman in charge had sneered at her the entire time, lectured her on how next time she was supposed to call in those still on active duty, and had doled out more than her share of threats. Bree closed her eyes against the growl that built in her chest at the memory. It vibrated in her throat, threatening to break loose. Hunter had gone to them for help first. It wasn’t her fault that they hadn’t done a damned thing and he’d come to her.
“Bree?” His voice came like velvet out of the dark and she opened her eyes to see Hunter standing over her, one eyebrow arched as he watched her. “You look ready to bare fangs.”
He gave a slight half-smile. He’d been there when the Hounds had grilled her. She’d felt him trembling at her back as he restrained himself from jumping into the fray. Only her hand on his chest had forced him to hold his tongue, but the glittering anger in his eyes had been enough to cut the meeting short.
“I’m fine. How’s your wolf?”
“She’ll be okay. A few of the pack are in there with her now. She’s awake and talking, which is a good thing. She lost some blood, but nothing major. They’ll stay with her.”
He didn’t have to add that it wasn’t just for company. She hadn’t known him long, but she knew him well enough to know Hunter wasn’t the kind of man that left anyone in his pack out to dry. He’d made damn sure Rylie was safe and that this didn’t happen again.
He held out the keys to his truck. “How about we get you home?”
“Sounds good to me.” She rose and followed him out of the hospital. Her body ached from the hike up Wolf’s Peak, the fight, and the race down. Damn, but she’d gotten soft in her time off.
Softer than she’d really meant to. The fear and helplessness that had rolled through her when the rogue had turned after Hunter and his wolf had slammed that home. Never did she want to feel like she couldn’t be enough to save the day.
Never again.
“White Pine has a gym, right?”
Hunter glanced over his shoulder, heat smoldering in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you need one.”
There was a teasing note in his voice that drew a soft laugh from her. “The aches in my body say otherwise.”
Something purely masculine flashed across his face and it warmed her, making things low inside her tingle with awareness. There was something there between them, more than just working together, and Bree was tempted to explore it. Tempted to see just where things could go with Hunter.
And maybe she would, soon
enough.
Bree followed him out to his truck, reveling in the cold touch of the wind against her skin as she tilted back her head. It had been a long day, but the woman they’d saved had been worth it. Heck, it reminded her of why she’d loved her job. She’d been damned good at it too.
Guilt shouldn’t have stopped her, it hadn’t had to. Her old pack would have still accepted her, though a new one somewhere else not so much. The ride home was mostly quiet. She watched as they passed house after house lit for Christmas. The whole town radiated with Christmas spirit, with hope. Happiness. She bit her lip.
Arianna would have loved all the glowing reindeer, the Santa countdowns, the lighted presents. Her heart gave a painful twist, but this time it wasn’t for what she’d lost. It was for what she wanted to honor. Ari was gone, but her spirit still lingered—and she didn’t deserve to be kept locked in Bree’s heart with nothing but unending solitude wrapped around them both.
What good was keeping alive her daughter’s memory if she kept it boxed away, afraid to feel joy again, afraid to feel anything at all again?
“You’re quiet,” Hunter murmured as he turned his truck up her drive. Her house looked so...empty.
Barren.
“Thinking.” Her hand touched the door handle and she paused. This was the house of a woman who’d wanted to disappear, who’d had nothing left to live for.
It was about time she put that woman to rest.
Bree lifted her chin a notch in determination and glanced to Hunter. “Know of a good place to get a Christmas tree?”
Hell, two days until Christmas, she knew it was a long shot. She probably wouldn’t even have luck finding an over-priced artificial at the local grocery store in this small town, but she hoped otherwise. She wanted this suddenly more than she’d wanted anything in a long time.
Hunter looked between her house and her. She could see the wheels in his mind turning behind those dark eyes of his and Bree felt her breath catch, waiting. “A real one?” he asked in the quiet of the cab.
Hope snared in her chest, beating wildly, and Bree fisted her hand against the truck door. Her head tilted in the slightest nod. “Yes.”
Ari had loved the smell. So had Bree for that matter. She’d give anything to have that fresh pine scent in her house again, the thick branches lit with multi-colored lights, garland wrapped around the heavy green, and ornaments weighing it down.
A grin flashed across Hunter’s face. “That I can help you with. Give me an hour.”
She opened her lips to protest. He didn’t have to go through the trouble, he just had to point her in the right direction but Hunter held up a hand. “Just nod and agree to meet me right here in an hour.”
Bree bit her lip to hold back her smile. “Okay then. I’ll meet you right here.”
Then slid out of the truck, the cold winter wind wrapping around her. She pressed her fingers to her mouth as she watched Hunter back down her drive and angle the truck towards his house. One hour and she could find herself a tree.
It gave her an hour to see what Christmas decorations she’d packed with her in the move. An hour to start living again. Hope swelled in her chest, and there, wrapping around her heart, she could almost feel Arianna smiling inside her—her spirit once again aglow with the season.
“Sorry sweetheart,” she murmured as she headed for the front door. “Your momma can be a bit slow.”
Chapter Twelve
Hunter found himself grinning as he finished packing up the truck, his gaze scanning to the woods beyond his house. A Christmas tree. He didn’t know where the sudden desire had come from, but the moment she’d voiced it, he’d seen the flash of longing spear through her eyes. Hope, shining and bright, had flared just for a moment before she squashed it down.
In White Pine, a tree was something a person could find with relative ease—all one needed was a good chain saw and a way to haul it home. Both of which Hunter had. Striding out to his shed, he flicked on the dim light and looked around. He had a spare tree stand in here somewhere. It wasn’t the prettiest looking thing and he hoped like hell she had a tree skirt to hide it, but if it kept the tree upright it was doing its job.
Shoving aside a few ratty cardboard boxes, Hunter peered at the shelves. He had more junk in this place than he knew what to do with. He flipped open a few of the boxes labeled ‘Xmas’ in black marker. Strands of outdoor lights, an old light-up wreath he wasn’t even sure worked anymore, a few wicker reindeer in another. He toed that box toward the door.
If she wanted a tree, maybe she’d want more.
The woman who’d come to White Pine to disappear seemed to be fading into the background, the part of herself she’d wanted to hide slowly coming back to the surface. He’d been interested before, curious. He’d wanted a chance to get to know her.
Now, that desire strengthened to a need.
Bree had risked her life today to save a member of his pack. She wasn’t even a Hound anymore, and hell, he couldn’t say any other Hound would have done what she’d done. Most didn’t give a rat’s ass for the shifters they were supposed to protect. But Bree had. He’d seen the flash of scorn in the local Hounds here, knew damn well Shifter Town Enforcement probably wouldn’t welcome her back—at least not in White Pine—and yet she’d done more for his pack than anyone else.
Rylie was okay because of her.
Someone else might have tried to blame Bree. After all, the rogue clearly had a beef with her, not with Hunter and his pack. But she hadn’t asked for a husband that had wound up a murderer, she hadn’t asked to lose her daughter, and she damn well hadn’t asked for some psycho to stalk her here and torment someone else.
But the moment Hunter had asked for her help, she’d given it willingly.
The least he could do was help her get a tree in time for Christmas. He flipped open another box. Halloween decorations in with the Christmas. Picking through the black cats and jack o’ lanterns he spotted the old tree stand and pulled it out. Tucking that under one arm and the first box under the other he shouldered his way out of the shed and kicked the door shut behind him.
By the time he had the box and stand in the truck he was ready to go, and a glance at his watch told him he was right on time. A curl of anticipation twisted in his gut and he headed for the cab, only to head back down towards Bree’s house. Just a few days and already the sight of her house was becoming normal. Something he longed to see.
She was standing in the driveway, her hands stuffed in her coat pockets. She’d drawn her long ruby-spun hair into a pony tail and had a pair of green earmuffs on atop her head. A few Christmas window clings hung in her window, already a difference from the empty façade just an hour ago.
And she looked...happy.
Proud.
Hunter couldn’t help but wonder why the sudden change in spirit. He pulled to a stop next to her and reached over to open the passenger door for her. She smiled and pulled herself inside. “I really appreciate it.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said, flashing her a smile and backing the truck down towards the road again. “Though I do have to ask, why now?”
Bree bit her lip. A nervous gesture, full of innocence, and Hunter jerked his attention back to the road. He wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips of hers, soothe away the little indentations left behind from her teeth. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to know her.
He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel to take his mind off what it would be like to kiss her again. He knew she was soft, knew the way she’d lean into him, but hell a moment like that had to have been luck.
“I’m tired of not living,” she said finally, her voice was soft, but in the quiet of the truck, Hunter could hear her easily. Every whisper-soft note and the melancholy etched in every word. “After...after my daughter died, I didn’t want to move on. I didn’t want to keep living. And all the things Arianna enjoyed I couldn’t imagine ever enjoying them again myself without her.”
“Ari loved Christmas. Especially finding a Christmas tree. It had to be a real one, she loved the smell. Loved tromping through the snow to find one.”
Hunter cast her a glance and saw her lips had curved into a delicate smile, warming to the memory of her daughter. Joy left a glow in her eyes, and he could hear the fondness in her voice. Unlike the first time she’d talked about her daughter when all he’d heard was the pain that the memory brought back, now all he could hear was the love.
“I kept all the ornaments and stuff, but I just couldn’t bring myself to find a tree each year. Couldn’t imagine having a Christmas without her and then without Caesar.” He eyes closed against her husband’s name, and Hunter found himself reaching for her, his hand catching hers as he gave it a light squeeze, reassuring.
“You’ve had Christmases without her. It comes every year, whether you want it to or not.”
Her hand tightened on his. “It took me awhile to figure that part out,” she murmured. “That I’d had Christmases without her and they were dark, lonely events. I want this one to be different. The kind of holiday she’d have enjoyed.”
“Well then,” he said and turned up a winding road that led into the forest. “Let’s get you that tree.”
And after that, he’d see what else he could do for her.
***
Bree stared at the bushy pine in the midst of all the snow. Ari would have loved it. Thick, heavy branches, perfect for wrapping in lights and garland. Strong enough to hold her favorite ornaments—like the gaudy little carousel that sang when she pushed the button on the bottom. Bree’s heart twisted at the memory, a flash of pain burning through her, and she had to take a step back.