Ian Silver huffed three frozen breaths in the depths of his den, preparing himself for the pain of the Change back into his human body. The one right after hibernation was agony, but it would be easy after this. Or if not easy, at least less painful.
Closing his eyes, he tucked his animal away. It was a slow process, and he had to concentrate on each area of his body. The small, dark room echoed with the sounds of snapping bones and grunts of pain and the snarling of an angry animal that didn’t want to be pushed inside yet. But then, his bear never wanted to be stifled.
It wasn’t until he lay on the cold wood floor of his den as a human, naked and shivering, that he noticed the manila envelope someone had shoved under the thick wood of his door. He’d built this cabin inside a cave more than a decade ago on the land his ancestors had made their dens, and no one knew his whereabouts except for his two brothers, who wouldn’t pay him a visit even if he was dying, and Clayton Reed, head of Alaska Shifter Enforcement. Fuck.
Ian was hungry—starving, in fact—and the last thing he wanted to deal with after six months of hibernation was an enforcer job.
With a growl and a glare for the damning envelope, he dressed as quickly as his sore muscles allowed. Thick sweater, jeans, warm socks, and hiking boots on, and he was up, stretching his aching joints. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Gaunt face, emaciated body, clothes hanging off him, hollow eyes, and one gnarly beard. Even the blue of his eyes was dull. He always hated the way he looked after hibernation—as weak as a dried twig, and just as ready to snap.
Ripping his gaze away from the reflective glass, he reached for his jacket draped over the dresser and beat off a healthy layer of dust. It was dark in his one-room den, but his night vision was impeccable, so he didn’t have any problems finding his way around. This place was for sleeping only and lacked the amenities he needed to refuel his depleted body. Tonight, he would stay in a hotel in town and eat until he was glutted. Whoever’s file that envelope contained was going to eat him for breakfast if he didn’t build up his strength.
Ian pocketed his wallet along with all the money in the safe that shadowed the corner, then picked up the envelope. The weight was too substantial for a warning order. Clayton had definitely sent him something big.
He’d planned on eating before he opened the envelope, but it had been a couple of years since he’d done a thick-packet kill order, and one of the shifters around here must’ve fucked up royally if Ian was being called to hunt them.
He took one last glance around his den before shoving open the door, allowing the dim cave light to filter in. Even as muted as it was, the brightness hurt his eyes after sleeping so long. The envelope crinkled in his hands as he pulled the stack of papers and pictures from it. A strange jolt blasted through his body as his gaze landed on the first image. It was a color picture of a woman. Honey-colored hair tied back, long neck, pursed lips, and troubled, hollow eyes that looked eerily similar to his right now, except she was human and hadn’t been asleep for the past six months. She had a hoe in her hands and was working a garden, and the look on her face said the photographer had caught her at a moment when she’d only just glanced up from her work, then likely returned her attention right back to it. Her eyes were a strange gold-green color, and she didn’t wear a stitch of make-up.
Ian shook his head and gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Clayton knew better than this. He knew better than to give him a kill order on a woman. Ian spat on the ground and pushed the picture aside. Cole McCall stared back at him with wild eyes that said his inner wolf had taken the last of his sanity. That was more like it. Ian scanned the paperwork to make sure it was McCall he was supposed to hunt and not the pretty woman in the photograph.
An unreasonably large wave of relief washed through his chest as he read the name. The lady was an innocent. Elyse Abram. Pretty name for a pretty woman, and not his intended target. She was just Cole’s bad decision to try and hold a mate while his inner wolf slipped into madness. The McCall boys were all the same, descended from a long line of crazy werewolves. And man-eaters, every last one of them. Dumb fuck had involved a woman in his final year of sanity. Cole was even stupider than Ian had thought.