by Everly Frost
“I want her,” he says.
The alphas glance at each other, brows furrowed, heads drawn back, many of them startled.
I give myself a shake. I can’t have heard Tristan right.
Peter Nash steps forward with Baxter Griffin close behind him.
“You can’t have her,” Peter snaps. “She dies tonight.”
“Only by unanimous vote,” Tristan says smoothly. “You voted to kill her—that means you wish to cast her out of your pack. Since you’ve cast her out, another pack can claim her. I’m staking my claim. I want her in my pack.”
Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring, his teeth gritted. His voice lowers to a dangerous growl. “Are you playing me, Tristan?”
I can’t see Tristan’s face since his back is to me, but Jace has frozen at the side of the clearing, wide-eyed and even more alert as he studies his alpha. Jace’s face suddenly pales, his shoulders tensing. He’s poised, on edge as his focus flicks from Tristan to me.
Tristan’s answer to Peter is a shrug, but his voice fills with derision. “I thought an alpha as cunning as yourself would see it coming.”
Peter spits into the grass. “I may have cast her out, but if you want to claim her, you have to win her from me.”
Tristan nods, a slow, deliberate movement. “Then let’s fight.”
His challenge is like a trigger. The other alphas jolt away from the two men, hurrying to get clear. Baxter Griffin is the slowest to move, snarling at Tristan, but even he picks up his pace, taking himself a safe distance away.
At the same time, Jace advances on me at speed, reaching out as if he’s going to haul me out of here. I suddenly feel like the rose trapped within his tattooed wolf’s teeth.
“Don’t touch me!” I snap, backing away rapidly while he chases after me.
“You don’t want to be anywhere near Tristan right now,” Jace says, not giving up, his arms outstretched as if he’ll herd me like an animal if he has to.
He compels me to move all of the way back to the cabin’s porch, driving me up the stairs before pointing to the old wicker chair near the door. “Sit.”
Any other shifter would obey an order spoken so forcefully. Jace may be a beta, but he’s as commanding as an alpha. But I’ve never felt compelled to follow pack hierarchy. Without a wolf’s soul, I don’t have the instincts that force me to recognize the rules that govern other wolves.
I remain standing. “Don’t think for a second that you can tell me what to do,” I say. “I don’t follow pack law.”
Jace’s gaze rakes over me. “Clearly.”
He places himself at the top of the stairs, half-turned so he can keep me in his sights while blocking the way down.
Out in the clearing, the motion-triggered lights on the cabin roof finally flood the space from the front steps to the far edge of the forest.
Tristan removes the jeans he just put on while Peter also strips off his clothing, preparing in case they decide to shift. I shudder at the difference between them. Peter’s chest, thighs, and biceps are solid muscle—thick and brutish—while Tristan is leaner but no less muscular. Peter will rely on brute strength and the crushing power of his fists while Tristan… well, I have no idea how Tristan plans to fight.
The fact that he wants to risk anything for me baffles me.
“Why is Tristan doing this?” I ask Jace, my voice quieter now. As Tristan’s beta, he must have some idea.
“Fuck knows,” Jace murmurs, exhaling heavily as he peers at me across the distance, dark green eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to figure me out before he turns back to watch the two alphas. “But whatever power your scent has over him, I don’t plan on succumbing to it.”
I grin and take a challenging step toward him. “You’d better not get too close to me then.”
Despite my bravado, I’m rapidly trying to process what’s happening around me and why. My father said that only the strongest alphas would sense my true scent. The golden aura around Jace is not as strong as the blaze around Tristan, but it’s close to the strength of Cody’s aura, which means my move toward him could be incredibly stupid.
I’m impressed when Jace stands his ground despite the threat of my nearness. He returns his attention to Tristan instead of reacting to my taunt. He doesn’t seem as worried about his alpha as I thought he might be—in fact, he seemed more anxious about getting me out of Tristan’s way than anything else. It occurs to me that Jace told me to stand clear of Tristan before, but he made no mention of Peter.
Out in the clearing, Tristan faces Peter, the two men circling each other as the friction increases. The other alphas lean forward in anticipation, waiting for the first move.
Peter strides forward, taking a hefty swing at Tristan’s head.
I gasp at Tristan’s instant response.
Tristan shifts from man to wolf so fast that I nearly miss it when I blink. He leaps at Peter and claws Peter’s neck as he flies past. Then he shifts back to his human form so fast that he spins and kicks Peter’s knees out from under him before Peter can even flinch.
Blood pours down Peter’s chest as the older man drops to the ground. Tristan shifts again into a wolf, a dark blur as he leaps onto Peter’s back, knocking the older man forward over his knees, face-first into the grass.
I drag in a shocked breath, my eyes widening. Tristan’s teeth flash, his wolf’s jaws close around the back of Peter’s neck, and for a second, I experience a painful sort of hope.
Is Peter dead? Is the alpha who beat my father finally defeated? Did Tristan kill him? Just like that?
Before I can blink again, Tristan shifts back to his human form, reappearing with his hand wrapped around the back of Peter’s neck, his knee pressing against Peter’s spine. I can’t tear my eyes away from Tristan, the way his muscles ripple, every part of his body moving in harmony, strong and completely in control.
I haven’t been exposed to my own kind as much as I would have if I’d grown up in the village, but I never imagined any shifter being able to shift so fast back and forth between their wolf and human forms. Shifting quickly into wolf form, sure, but back and forth like that? If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.
Peter twitches, his arms flung out, lying nearly prone on the grass. The way he struggles tells me he’s alive and well. Tristan must have missed the vital parts of Peter’s neck when he cut him. The only question in my mind is whether Tristan deliberately allowed Peter to live.
Tristan’s forceful declaration carries across the distance, making me shiver. “Tessa Dean is mine.”
Chapter Three
Peter’s shout is muffled but filled with murderous rage. “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.”
Tristan releases the older man and leaps back to his feet without a backward glance. He scoops up his jeans from the ground and pulls them on, hopping from one foot to the other to manage dressing while he walks. Finally clothed, he charges up the porch steps, more threatening than when he first tackled me.
I dart to the side, but he sheds his jeans with practiced ease, shifts, and leaps in front of me in his wolf form, cutting me off halfway across the porch. I skid to a stop as his animal snarls up at me, its teeth bared.
His wolf reaches my waist, a massive, sleek, black-furred beast that makes my own wolf rattle inside me, thudding at the cage of my human body, her energy begging to be released.
I’ve barely taken a sharp breath—barely blinked—when Tristan looms over me, fully human and stark naked again.
His shifts are too fast for me to follow, too much of a blur, and now I see why Jace told me I shouldn’t be anywhere near Tristan right now.
Despite shifting back to his human form, Tristan’s eyes are pure animal, his jaw clenched, the shadows casting across his face telling me that he’s acting on instinct without rational thought.
My wolf’s energy makes the air around me sizzle, but Tristan doesn’t appear even slightly fazed.
“Stay away from me
,” I snarl. My wolf’s silhouette appears at my side, her energy forcing its way outside of me. She lifts her head beside me and bares her teeth at him.
“Not an option.” Tristan shakes his head, snarling right back at me, fierce before he scoops up his fallen jeans and tugs them on yet again.
“Come with me willingly or I’ll make you.” He closes the gap, his naked chest bumping into mine even as I backpedal. The power thrumming through him sends my wolf into overdrive, her snarls filling my head and making it hard to think.
I rapidly search for a way out, but there’s nothing to save me. No escape. Even Jace is keeping his distance from Tristan right now.
To leave the porch without Tristan means death at the hands of the other alphas, but leaving with Tristan… I don’t know why he fought for me, but his reasons can’t be good. Nobody except my father ever approached me without an ulterior motive. Even my mother, on the one occasion that she came to see me, slapped me in front of the pack to make it clear she is above me.
“Too slow.” Tristan barrels into me, anticipating my next move so that he’s already right in front of me when I turn to run. Using my own momentum against me, he scoops me up and over his shoulder. Fucking caveman bullshit.
My hair cascades down across his thighs and calves as he strides down the stairs with me. My hands form into fists. I’m ready to pummel Tristan’s spine and make him put me back on the ground, but I catch sight of the spot where my father was standing.
Empty.
Dad’s gone.
Worry floods me. I raise my head, trying to ascertain where Peter and Dawson are—in case they’ve done something to my father—but Peter still sits in the middle of the clearing where Tristan left him. His beta and Dawson are crouched beside him, glaring at us while Tristan strides down the porch steps with me.
Jace’s large form suddenly blocks my view as he follows behind us. I catch sight of a flash of steel as he bends to slip a dagger from his boot, gripping it ready in his hands.
I shudder because Jace’s preparation for battle means the fight isn’t over.
Tristan’s pace is rapid as he rounds the back of the cabin and strides into the forest behind it. It’s the direction farthest from the watching alphas. His bare feet hardly make a sound in the fallen foliage that covers the forest floor.
I don’t have time to process the fact that I’m leaving my home behind—possibly for the last time. I tell myself I’ll have to deal with that later. Right now, my problems just seem to get bigger and bigger.
The moment Tristan took hold of me, my wolf disappeared, gone like a puff of smoke. I seek her energy, but she has deserted me like she did the first time he barreled into me, her fire burning out in the light of his power. I’m human again with human fears and not even an axe or split wood to defend myself.
I also can’t ignore my pain.
I knew I was hurt in the fight with Cody, Dawson, and Cameron, but now I feel the full effect of the wounds. I’m bleeding across my stomach, as well as my shoulder. My ribs are bruised, maybe even cracked, and my position on Tristan’s shoulder is pressing on my chest.
Agony shoots through me with every step he takes.
As he hurries down the slope between the trees, I can’t stop my sudden whimper.
Tristan cuts me off with a snarl. “Do not test me, Tessa.”
I swallow my sob. He thinks I’m about to give him a tongue-lashing. That I’m still fighting him.
Of course I plan to give him a piece of my mind. I’ll fight him too. I don’t care how ruthless he is. If he puts me back on my feet, I’ll run—despite the pain of my wounds. But we’ve only gone a hundred paces and I’m already in agony. I’m not sure how much more jostling I can take before I give in to tears. The last thing I want is to show weakness in front of Tristan fucking Masters.
Jace’s quiet voice sounds behind us as he follows us. “She’s hurting, Tristan.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, hating the truth, hating my pain as Tristan slows to a stop. The air stops whooshing around me and the pain eases. The world ceases spinning for a blissful moment when he finally comes to a complete standstill.
Tristan’s arms tighten around me. “Will you run if I set you back on your feet?” he asks, a harsh demand for the truth.
I should lie.
I need to lie.
“No,” I say.
Tristan makes a frustrated sound deep in his throat. “Don’t lie to me, Tessa. You don’t have to like me. You can hate me, but you will never fucking lie to me. Now, I’ll ask you again: Will you run?”
“What do you think, asshole?” I snarl, thumping my fist against his back. My hand is full of my human strength, but it has no impact on him.
“You’ll just have to get through the pain,” he says, a cold response as he resumes his quick pace.
“No—” I stop myself before I beg.
Crying is bad. Begging is worse.
“Tristan.” Jace’s voice carries a warning, but this time, I don’t think it’s about me. “Cody’s coming after her. Baxter’s coming after him. We need to run.”
“Fuck.” Tristan exhales, tension thrumming through his shoulders. “Cody got too close to her. Watch my back, Jace. Use full force. Don’t underestimate how badly Cody needs to get to Tessa right now.”
Jace breaks into a cold grin. His daggers gleam in his hands. “Permission to hurt that fucking family? Gladly.”
Tristan doesn’t hesitate another second. He breaks into a sprint, and I nearly bite my tongue because the pain is so bad.
I try to exhale the aching, gasping every inhalation. Tristan’s arms are like a vise around me as he darts between the trees, taking the slope at a dangerous speed. One misstep and we’ll both take a tumble. At this elevation, hitting a tree means a broken back.
Just when I don’t think I can take the pain anymore—when a scream works its way up to my lips—Tristan hits his stride and I suddenly feel weightless.
It’s like leaping off a cliff and not touching ground.
In those few moments while the pain eases, I sense what Jace warned us about. Cody is following us—I can sense his power signature. Baxter is on the verge of catching up to him, but he’s not alone. My half-brother and Peter Nash are with Baxter. Their scents are even stronger now, which means they’ve shifted—and they’re gaining on us because of their wolves’ speed. I remember the look in Cody’s eyes when he tried to mark me—the dark obsession that seemed to drive him beyond logical thought.
I don’t like my chances with Tristan, but I’m dead if Cody and the alphas catch up to us.
Behind us, Jace suddenly spins and drops to the ground, drawing two more blades from his boots. It’s difficult to see the details in the dark while we run away from him, but these daggers don’t look like normal blades—they are made purely of flattened steel with one gleaming sharp end and one rounded end. Jace is now holding two blades in each hand. They glint in his hands before he lets the two in his right hand fly at the same time.
My jaw drops at the speed and skill of his throw.
One of the blades hits the first wolf that darts around the nearest tree—I recognize Dawson’s gray wolf as it yelps and falls. The blade juts from his shoulder when he shifts back to his human form, shouting in pain.
The other blade flies to the right, thudding into the chest of Peter Nash’s wolf as he leaps toward Jace. Jace sidesteps smoothly to avoid Peter’s flying claws and spins to drive his third blade into Peter’s hind thigh.
Tristan doesn’t wait for Jace and that’s all I see before the trees obstruct my view. It’s difficult to make out much at the speed we’re moving. It’s also getting darker, although my eyes are quickly adjusting to the night. I hold my breath, straining to hear and sense what’s happening behind us while my heart beats wildly in my chest and my wolf’s energy buzzes inside me.
Finally, I make out Jace’s figure, running behind us again, his chest gleaming with sweat, thigh muscles straining, arms pumping.
I doubt he’ll catch up to us in his human form because Tristan is practically flying now. The power radiating from him hits me in waves, pounding through me. I sense his wolf and his human, working in harmony in a way that I’ve never sensed in another shifter. He’s harnessing his wolf’s speed and strength without shifting form, the same way I harness my wolf’s energy to make myself stronger.
Except that Tristan definitely has a wolf’s soul—a soul I can’t relate to. The energy inside him is as foreign to me as an animal in the wild.
He leaps over a fallen tree, holding tightly to me at the same time. I recognize the path he’s taking—it’s the same one I would have chosen. My pack believes I never leave pack territory, but there’s another world a few miles down this side of the mountain range—a small resort at the side of a gorgeous lake where humans come for vacations. It’s a safe place for me that isn’t dominated by shifters, where I can escape with Dad’s blessing and pretend to be human. Blending in among humans is far easier than understanding my own kind. Hell, I have a part-time job in the souvenir shop, selling trinkets. I’ve even had a few flings with human men that didn’t last long because I kept them at arm’s length, knowing nothing could ever come of it.
The forest opens up a little more in this part of the mountain range, the trees slightly more sparse down to the dirt road that runs across the slope and finally joins up with the highway that leads into Portland.
A howl behind us makes me jolt, but I’m not sure who made the sound. Two wolves appear in the distance, gaining on Jace—and on us.
These are wolves I’ve never seen before, but I recognize their scents—Cody and his father, Baxter. Their wolves both have golden fur, one with a white tail and the other with russet-colored fur on its legs.
Jace spins to face them, but it looks like he’s out of weapons. He must have used up his remaining blade on Dawson or Peter.
My eyes widen when Jace braces, ready to meet the wolves head on with his human fists.
Why doesn’t Jace shift?
The smaller of the two wolves—the one with the white-tipped tail—reaches Jace first. At first, I think it’s Cody, but a shiver runs through me as I distinguish the two wolves’ scents and realize that the larger wolf with the russet legs is the man who tried to mark me. His golden eyes focus sharply on me across the distance as he races behind his father.