Once we got inside, he zipped the flap closed and switched on the lantern. “What’s wrong?”
I sat on my sleeping bag, my legs folded beneath me. “I want to go home.”
“You know we can’t do that.” He took a seat and draped one arm over his knee. “It’s not just us out here, Lexi. None of the packs are hiding in their homes. That’s not how you win battles. Church gained control, so he can afford to open his doors again. I’m willing to bet he’s only letting the young kids and injured stay in the house, but he also has more packmates.”
“I know, I know. I just want to go home. I want it to be over so we can go back to the way things were. I can’t even enjoy my pregnancy because I’m worried all the time.”
He pinched my chin and scooted closer. “What did I tell you about worrying? I’m always going to make sure you’re protected.”
“Where’s your medallion?”
His fingers traced up my leg. “Packed up where it’s safe. If I shift, it’s easier to go back and find my bag than it is to dig through all that damn poison ivy looking for a pendant.”
“Why didn’t anyone bring the bug spray?” I scratched a mosquito bite on my ankle, enjoying the sudden sense of normalcy that unremarkable conversations brought. I liked real moments when it was just us, with nothing important to say.
“Strong odors draw attention.”
I poked his chest. “In that case, you better take a bath tomorrow.”
He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck, giving me kisses. “Mmm, I thought you liked me stinky.”
His whiskers brushed against my skin, and I found his lips.
“Not now,” he growled sexily.
I nibbled on his bottom lip. “If not now, when?”
Austin sat back, and his nostrils flared. The pale color in his eyes thinned as his pupils dilated, but it wasn’t passion I saw.
He placed a finger on my lips to stay quiet.
That’s when I noticed what had caught his attention. The crickets had stopped singing their summer song, and the conversation outside had turned off like a faucet.
He switched off the lantern since it was casting our shadows across the tent. When he reached for the zipper, I clutched his shirt.
Austin emerged from the tent, and I knelt at the edge, peering out.
What I saw stopped my heart. It was an ambush. Our pack was surrounded by men who stood as still as statues, each one holding a gun.
No one in our pack had moved from their spot, not even Reno. The men must have moved in quickly for no one to have noticed, and April had probably been distracted by a hot meal and the conversations around her that were lulling her into a sleep when Austin and I had gotten up to leave.
“Who’s the Packmaster?” one of them asked.
No one dared reply. These men had come for one thing: to kill the alpha.
“I asked you a question,” the man repeated. His rifle was obscuring most of his face. Like all the other men, he was dressed in black. These didn’t look anything like the rogues we’d been fighting. They were polished, clean-shaven, armed, and looked like experienced soldiers. Judas had sent in the Shifter equivalent of a SWAT team.
Reno stayed seated, his eyes on the fire and his hands in sight.
Two men appeared on either side of me and grabbed my arms, forcing me to my feet.
Austin turned, fury in his eyes.
One of the men peered inside. “All clear.”
The man leading the group, who had spoken a moment ago, lowered his gun. He adjusted the dark bandana that fit tight around his entire head. His dark eyes scanned the faces in the pack. “Ever played Russian roulette?” He nodded at a rotund man with a handgun. “Kellerman.”
The man called Kellerman stepped forward and pulled out a revolver. He emptied all but one of the bullets and spun the cylinder, then placed the muzzle against the back of Naya’s head.
The leader narrowed his eyes at every man in our group. “Who’s your Packmaster?”
They could have just shot us all down, but they must have been on orders to take out the Packmaster. They couldn’t confirm the task was done based on assumption when the Packmaster could have been in another group or roving through the woods on his own.
The energy was too diluted for them to sense Austin’s alpha power, and not all Shifters could. The locals could always spot them because of the recognizable tattoos or if they channeled that power into their voice, but otherwise, alphas could blend into a crowd if they chose to.
The fire crackled, sending up a flurry of sparks.
Wheeler’s eyes remained downcast. “You better take that gun off my woman.”
I stepped closer to Austin, my heart racing.
The leader nodded at Kellerman, who pulled the trigger.
I jumped when I heard the empty click.
Wheeler rose to his feet slowly. “And boom goes the dynamite.”
Before the words left his mouth, he spun around and assailed the man with a series of blows to the face. When the shooter fell onto his back, Wheeler straddled him and placed the gun against the man’s forehead. He pulled the trigger, and the man flinched.