Mayhem roared, and Jaylon swiveled his gaze back to watch his alpha make the killing bite, his eyes blazing with fury as he ripped the Hunter’s throat out.
Jaylon looked at Aubrey. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide with shock. Friends of the family? She brought Hunters into their house. As the magic of his wolf enveloped him, the last thing he saw as a human was Aubrey pulling her bow from its case, nocking an arrow and aiming at him.
Chris shoved Aubrey to the side, jarring her enough to make her stumble and lose her grip on her arrow. He took out his gun and reached around his back to pull a knife. “They’re wolves, Bree! You need to get out of here. Call your sister, get a Huntress here! Run!”
Call her sister? Run? She looked down at her hands, empty but for her bow. She drew another arrow, her fingers shaking, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind unable to make sense of what this meant. Wolves?
Chris pushed her again, jolting her from her confusion. “Run! Bree, get help!”
Jaylon, there one minute as a man, now stood before her as a gigantic brown wolf. The same brown wolf she had bowed to once before. And now there were four. Two more where Raven and Dyami had once stood. The band was a pack. Suddenly, the cloud of uncertainty that had hovered over her since she’d stepped foot into the house vanished. She saw everything. She felt everything.
She needed to get help. They had backed themselves off the patio, slowly moving away from the house as the wolves stalked toward them. Loose formation, corralling them. Without a Huntress, they were as good as dead. Chris was firing shot after shot, some hitting the targets, some not. But it wouldn’t matter—he’d only be able to hold them off for so long. They needed a Huntress. Her sister. They needed her sister.
No! Jaylon…a wolf! Her heart constricting, she lost her grip on another arrow, but snagged it between her fingers at the last minute and set it right. Gareth was dead, his blood dripping from Mayhem’s muzzle, his body left in a gruesome tangle with shock frozen on his face forever.
She’d been training her whole life for this. It was the test she’d been waiting for.
But you’re not a Huntress and Jaylon is one of them.
Funny how one thought could make you feel like your heart was about to consume itself.
She forced it back, focused on the danger. Four wolves stalked her. It was her duty to survive.
She fired into the mass of approaching fur, heard a yelp then spun and ran, hoping Chris followed.
She pulled her cell from her pocket as she bolted toward the tree line and hit her sister’s last call. Prayed she would answer.
“Bree?”
“Corra, I need you! They’re all wolves!”
“Where are you? I’m home, I’m looking for you!”
Aubrey turned direction and sprinted East. Home. Her sister was home. “I’m on my way. They’re coming, Corra. Be ready.”
Chapter Twelve
She was running. He wanted her to run. He liked to chase her.
Mine.
She was fast, but he was faster, leaving the others behind to tend to the wounded. Darcy, with a flesh wound, would survive. Mayhem as well. Dyami, shot by a Huntress. His heart mourned his pack brother, but his instinct drove him after his mate. He needed to bite her—make her one with him so she would understand, so he could protect her from Mayhem’s retribution.
She was running to her cottage. He understood the direction, knew her instinct would propel her to safety. She just didn’t understand that the only safety she needed was with him.
They made it to the clearing where he’d first seen her.
She was running so fast, so blindly she didn’t see the white wolf’s carcass until she was almost on top of it. She stumbled, screamed, dropped into a roll then bounced up on the other side.
He skidded to a halt, the moon illuminating her in the clearing like a goddess of night.
She was panting, bow raised.
“Stay back.”
She knew it was him. He took a step toward her. She nocked an arrow, shifted in his direction. “I said, stay back.” Her words quivered, held no conviction. She would not hurt him.
He would bite her. Mark her as his.
He sprang forward, so intent on his prize that it was only out of the corner of his eye that he saw the other one. His ears picked up the whistle, his flank took the thunk and he dropped mid launch.
Chapter Thirteen
She stared down at the white wolf. The one she had shot weeks ago. A werewolf with her arrow still embedded. It was dead. She had killed it.
She had killed it.
“I’m a Huntress,” she whispered.
“You are, sister.” Corra approached from behind, her bow lowered only half-mast, like she was waiting for more to come.
The pack.
Her gaze shot to Jaylon’s crumpled form. She sucked in a deep breath. Jaylon.
She took a step toward him, unthinking, her heart telling her to go, her mind for once quiet. It was Corra who stopped her.