Lycan Unleashed

by Shannon Curtis

  His heart rate throbbed within his ears, within his chest, as his muscles bunched. A thump on his back propelled him forward, and he rolled, hearing the snap of jaws in his ear as he dodged a nasty bite. He kicked at the attacking wolf with force, sending him back awkwardly against a large boulder, and he heard the crack of the wolf’s head against stone.

  The large black wolf charged, and they both rolled in the dirt and pine needles, snapping and growling. Matthias jerked his head back from the alpha prime’s jaws, and the wolf ended up biting on the chain around his neck instead. Instantly Matthias morphed, grabbing the snout of the lycan to prevent the chain from snapping. For a moment they glared at each other, man to wolf. As realization dawned in the lycan’s eyes, Matthias moved. A series of quick, hard jabs to the wolf’s soft belly, and the Woodland Alpha Prime was forced to open his mouth to suck in tortured gasps.

  Matthias rescued the chain, morphing back into his beast form. He glanced around the clearing. His men were vastly outnumbered, although they held their own against the Woodland guardians. He turned to face the black wolf. Woodland lifted his head and howled. Matthias gritted his teeth. It was a call for reinforcements.

  * * *

  Trinity froze as the call of the lycans echoed through the forest. She glanced about, trying to gauge the direction of the alarm. Another howl echoed through the forest, a voice she didn’t recognize.

  A trespasser. Someone else was in the forest, someone other than Woodland.

  “What’s that?” Jax asked, his young eyes wide as he came bounding out of the underbrush.

  “Time to go home.” She’d had to clear this excursion with Rafe himself. All trips into the forest were assessed with care, so the noises startled her out of her relaxed state, her heart pounding at the rude shock.

  She whistled, and one by one, her class of juniors came running through the forest toward her. Her fists clenched as she counted them off on return, nodding with relief when she had full attendance. Their tracking exercise had just been cut drastically short.

  She beckoned them into a huddle. “Follow me. Do not stray. Do not wander off. Do not make a sound, okay?”

  The young children nodded, eyes wide in pale faces and she gave them all a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, guys. This is just a drill—but we do drills exactly like the real thing, don’t we?” She tried to make the lie as convincing as possible. They’d never had a drill for anything like this, with the sounds of fighting echoing through the forest.

  The kids still looked a little anxious, so she tried again. “First one back to the hall gets a treat.” She started jogging cross-country, checking over her shoulder to ensure each of her wards were following closely. Ducking under ferns, leaping over logs, the children ran silently through the forest.

  Trinity could hear the grunts and growls in the distance, and her heart hammered in her chest. The kids. She had to get the kids to safety. There would be time enough later to find out what had made hell break loose in the woods.

  She skidded to a stop at the foot of the mountain and heaved against a massive boulder. It shifted slowly to reveal a dark hole, one that would just fit her if she bent over double.

  “Go here,” she ordered to the first child who reached her.

  “But it’s dark,” the girl whispered, shrinking back.

  Trinity winked. “It’s okay, Mia. The dark can be your friend,” she whispered back. “It can hug you and hide you. Don’t worry, it’s only dark until the first intersection.” She’d learned that the dark could protect, could hide, could reveal all sorts of secrets.

  “What if we get lost?” Mia whimpered.

  “You won’t. Keep turning right, and you’ll end up in the laundry.” She knew all of the tunnels within the mountain like the back of her hand, knew exactly the quickest, shortest route to safety for her pups. “When you’re all inside, go and wait for me in the great hall. Now go.”

  She put her hand over the child’s head, guiding her through the opening so that she wouldn’t bump into the rock face, then helped the next child, then the next. Seven. Eight. Trinity frowned. Where was number nine?

  “Who’s missing?” she grabbed the disappearing ankle of the last child in the line as she mentally reviewed the names of the children who’d passed. “Jax. Where’s Jax?”

  The little boy shrugged. “He saw a trail.”

  Trinity swore under her breath. Great. The too-curious kid was wandering into a battle zone. “Go on,” she muttered. “Get back to the others, and stick together in the great hall until your parents come and collect you, okay?”

  The boy nodded, then started crawling again, and Trinity pushed against the boulder until it concealed the bolt-hole, then took off running up the path, her eyes scanning the undergrowth for signs of Jax’s trail. When she got her hands on that kid...

  She spied a branch that was snapped but not fallen. It had caught on another branch, indicating the direction the boy had taken. She skidded a little as she changed direction, following the slight indentation in the loamy soil here, the break of a branch there, the gap in a bush further along. Her heart pounding, she jumped over fallen logs, ducked under branches, and sprinted along paths that weren’t really paths at all, merely vague impressions of a little boy’s passing. Little trails worn by smaller creatures through the forest that unfolded at the same breakneck pace she ran. She had a skill for spying tracks and trails, no matter how faint, how old, how unused—or how newly trodden by a five-year-old pup.

  Birds screeched and flew overhead, and she almost tripped over a rabbit as it bounded across her path. Something was going on, something big. She tucked her elbows in against her sides, fingers straight and rigid as she pumped her legs faster. Trees whizzed past her in a blur. She catalogued each little sign of Jax’s trail, then skidded to a stop, her chest heaving, her eyes wide.

  Jax stood on the tips of his toes by a tree, his hooded sweatshirt clutched by a tall, bearded lycan. The man wore only a pair of camouflage pants. No shirt, no shoes. He was streaked with dirt and blood, and his expression was fierce as he gazed back at her.

  “Let him go,” she said, her voice low. Despite the panic, the fear, her words came out dead calm. She stepped closer, just once, and the man backed away, pulling Jax along with him. Anger flared inside her. Jax was a pup, damn it. A Woodland pup. Nobody threatened her pups.

  The boy whimpered, his eyes round with fear.

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said in a soothing voice, although her gaze didn’t shift from the lycan. “You will not hurt him,” she said, her tone low and heavy with warning. If he so much as hurt a hair on Jax’s head, she would kill him. Or at least try to. Her skills weren’t in fighting. Her eyes narrowed. There was only one of him, and although he was big and obviously a warrior while she was neither, she was prepared to try and take him down, if only to give Jax an opportunity to escape.

  “I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to release him,” she said, edging closer. The lycan narrowed his eyes.

  “One,” she said slowly, then launched herself at him, using the element of surprise as an advantage.

  A heavy body slammed into her side and she was caught in midair and knocked off target. She rolled in the dirt, trying to escape the weight, fists and feet lashing out, cursing herself for her mistake. He wasn’t alone. Flashes of tanned skin and white-blond hair made brief impressions as she tried to keep some momentum, to roll away. She heard a muffled oof as her fist connected with something firm and warm, then she grunted as her back was slammed against the dirt, and something hard, muscled and strong slammed against her front. Her wrists were grasped and shoved above her head, and she shook her hair out of her eyes as she glared at the shirtless lycan lying on top of her.

  “Someone can’t count,” he commented drily, staring down at her, a grin sliding over his lips.

&n
bsp; Chapter 3

  Blue eyes. She had blue eyes. Matthias stared down at the woman lying beneath him, the ring on his necklace a hard, unrelenting circle between them. He and Zane had barely retrieved their stash of spare clothing before they’d heard the boy thrashing through the bush, and now—well, now she was beneath him. His heart thundered from the fight, from the retreat, adrenaline pulsing through his body. Arousal, hot and heavy, flooded him instantly, his system already on high sensory alert.

  “Get off me,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice low and husky. She glared up at him, and his heart stuttered, just for a moment. Those eyes, so dark, so stormy blue, yet with slivers of silver that caught and held his gaze. Her nose was narrow, her cheeks flushed, the bones of her cheeks and jaws so defined, her lips luscious. That voice, that breathy, sexy voice that curled and teased at his ears and hardened his arousal. He was bombarded with sensory information. And oh, hell, her scent.

  He lowered his head into the cradle of her neck and inhaled, closing his eyes as her scent filled him, washed over him, aroused him. Wild honeysuckle, vanilla and something that was uniquely her, something that drove all sense and inhibition away, something that called to his beast, that had him slowly relaxing into her.

  “Ge-get off me,” she said, although this time she didn’t sound half so ferocious. She tried to buck him off her, and he exhaled blissfully at the thrust of her body against his. He skimmed his nose up her neck, to the little indent behind her ear. She smelled like...home.

  The word opened his eyes, and he paused. Home? He blinked, lifting his chest off her, but still pressing her into the ground with the weight of his lower body. Focus.

  “You have a choice,” he murmured, then moaned as she tried to roll, to lift him off her with the strength of those legs he wanted wrapped around his waist. He relaxed, pressing his arousal into the valley between her legs, and her blue eyes widened as she felt his erection.

  She swallowed, and he watched the movement of her throat, saw the flutter of the pulse in the indentation of her neck. Her cheeks flushed, and her scent changed, drifting into something darker, sexier, spicier. Arousal. It flowed between them, though by the shock in her eyes, it wasn’t exactly welcome.

  “What?” her voice came out as a husky rasp.

  “Take me to your den,” he said, and waited for her reaction.

  Her chin lowered. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed up at him, taking in his hair, every feature of his face. He didn’t think she meant it, but the intensity with which she stared at him made each glance feel like a caress.

  “Alpine?” she whispered, a growing awareness darkening her eyes.

  He nodded. “Take me to your den.”

  She shook her head, pine needles rustling beneath her. “No.”

  He smiled. He liked that she wasn’t a pushover, that she was prepared to stand up to him. Hell, she’d been prepared to attack Zane, a lycan half a head taller than her and a good deal heavier. The thought reminded him of his friend, and he lifted his gaze.

  Zane stood off to the side, one hand holding the hooded sweatshirt of the boy, the other hand on his hip, his head tilted. His friend arched an eyebrow as he stared down at the couple lying entangled in the dirt.

  “Don’t mind us,” his friend commented with a casual wave of his hand toward them.

  “Take him,” Matthias said brusquely.

  “No,” she cried out, trying to struggle against him. He watched as Zane turned and gently pulled the youngster along with him.

  “No, wait.”

  Matthias glanced down at her. Her concern, her worry for the child, was clearly stamped on her face, and he smiled with satisfaction.

  “What do you want?” she looked up at him, then back at the lad. Zane had halted, his head inclined as he listened to their conversation.

  “Take me to your alpha prime, and we will release the boy.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then we’ll take him back to Alpine.”

  “And what?”

  He dipped his head so that his lips were close to her mouth. “What do you think?” he whispered, making sure the boy couldn’t hear them. He didn’t want the lad scared any more than he already was. He had no idea what Woodland wolves thought they did back home, but imagination could be a good weapon.

  Anger flared like blue fire within her eyes. He was surprised by her reaction. Surprised and impressed. Not fear. Not worry, or horror, or distaste. Anger. She was a fighter, one ready to risk her life to protect the boy. Did she have any idea how easy it was to use him as leverage? He certainly wasn’t about to clue her in. He smiled.

  “Your choice,” he whispered against her lips.

  Her frown deepened. “That’s not a choice,” she said, her eyes flashing.

  He grinned. “I’m glad you see it my way. Take him back to camp,” he called to Zane, not removing his gaze from the woman.

  “Trinity,” Jax called out, his uncertainty clear.

  He tilted his head, and she growled softly, then turned her head to look back at the boy. “It’s okay, Jax. We’re going to be fine.” She gave the lad a reassuring smile, and Matthias was caught by the light in her eyes, the glow of confidence.

  He listened as the guardian walked away through the forest. When they turned down the trail, she dropped the smile and turned back to fix him with a steely glare. Not just a fighter, she had the ferocious spirit of a warrior, he realized, intrigued by the visible resolve as her eyes shifted to a steely blue.

  “You’ve got what you want, now get off me,” she snapped. She moved under him, trying to pull her wrists out of his grasp.

  He relaxed, his chest lowering to press against hers. Her gaze flicked up to him, and he could feel her heart pounding against his. There was something in her eyes... It wasn’t fear; it was an awareness, a flare of something warmer. Desire. He could see it, he could smell it. He could feel it as her breasts swelled beneath him, her nipples a sweet torment as they peaked against his chest.

  “Oh, honey, you have no idea what I want,” he murmured as he inhaled her sweet essence again. It was pure seduction, her scent. He trailed his nose along her jaw, and smiled when she rolled her head, arching her neck to give him better access. He sank into her, relishing the feel of her body against his. Her body was lithe and toned, but she was soft and curvy where it counted, and undeniably feminine.

  Luscious. He wanted to dive into her, and not come up for air. He slid his hands down her arms, feeling the shape of her limbs through her lightweight jacket. She sighed, then inhaled, her breasts pressing firmer against his chest, against the chain he wore. He smiled as her legs widened, and he rolled his hips against hers. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, then delved into his hair, her short nails scoring in a delicious, sensual massage against his scalp. He was as hard as granite, utterly consumed by the need to have this woman.

  He trailed his hands down to cup her breasts, and she moaned, flexing her hips against his in response. His need to have her grew. He molded the soft flesh in his hands, taking his time to learn their weight, their shape, her nipples pressing into his palms like hard little studs. He was about to combust. She dragged her nails down his back, and he shuddered in ecstasy.

  “Trinity.” That’s what the boy had called her. Trinity. He tasted the name on his lips. He liked it. He rubbed his erection against her, trying to alleviate the pressure, the ache, but her heat increased, as did his need for her. She stiffened beneath him.

  “God, what am I doing?” she rasped.

  “Getting to know me,” he said as he nuzzled her neck.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? It damn well feels like it. Your hands are in my pants.”

  Her hands clenched, her nails digging into his buttocks where they’d slid beneath the band of his trousers. Then she
pulled them out as though they were burning. “Holy smoke,” she whispered.

  He groaned. He was burning. A molten mess of burning need. For her. For Trinity. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this intense desire, this consuming drive to become part of another lycan. Not even with Cara.

  He rose to his feet, grasping the tracker and dragging her up to stand. He held her close, peering into her eyes. They weren’t cold and steely anymore; they were dark and turbulent, full of stunned dismay and smoking-hot desire. His eyes narrowed. She’d made him burn, damn it.

  Nobody made him burn. He took pride in his self-control, in his self-imposed punishment, and all it took was one tackle with this she-wolf and he was ready to forget everything, forget his plans, forget Jared, forget the rest of the pack that looked to him to avenge their alpha prime’s death. All for a roll with the enemy.

  He nudged her in the direction Zane had taken with the boy. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Trin resisted, turning back to face him again. She stared at the muscled figure for a moment, her body humming. Holy smoke, indeed. Like his friend, this lycan wore only a pair of low-riding camouflage pants, the button undone, revealing a tantalizing patch of golden skin before the fabric covered a noticeable bulge that seemed to match in scale the rest of him. She’d thought the other lycan was big. Good grief. This lycan towered over her, his shoulders so broad and thickly roped with muscle. Smudges of dirt and blood covered him, his short white-blond hair a stark contrast against the tanned skin and dirt. His eyes, staring back at her so solemnly, were a beautiful green.

  He was beautiful. She should have been grossed out by the gore and filth, but there was something so magnetic, so charismatic, that all she could see were those beautiful green eyes, that stunning chest. He wore a gold chain around his neck, a ring resting in the dip between his chest muscles. Perspiration slicked his skin, turning his pectoral muscles and deeply-ridged six-pack into a shiny playground begging for a woman’s fingers. Her fingers. Her gaze dipped. He had an old scar that slashed across his abdomen, yet it only added to the sexy, dangerous air about him. He was muscled and toned everywhere, no spare fat. She sucked in her breath. She’d seen some good-looking lycans, but she’d never had such a bone-deep, compelling reaction to anyone before. At least, not in her pack.