There had been some close calls during the fight.
But he, Mira, and her family had survived, and no pack members had lost their lives.
Mira joined them, thanking Adam for fighting alongside them, and then she hugged Leo tightly.“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said.
“I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
“Let’s not have anything terribly dangerous happen for a long while, okay?I don’t know if my heart can take it.”She smiled at him, her eyes luminous with unshed tears.
“I think we could definitely use some peace.”
ChapterEighteen
Brent Foley sat in his truck outside of the beasts’ town of Thorn Hollow, simmering in his fury.He had no idea how many people he’d lost in the battle, but it had been significant.He’d been on the periphery of the wolves’ territory before the battle started because he wanted to watch the wolves burn.
He knew that all he had to do was catch one or two in the fire trap he’d set, utilizing a thick accelerant dropped from nearly silent drones.What he hadn’t expected was to see damn bird-lion mixes flying around, or a white lion with one of the wolves, but he hadn’t cared.
Watching the fire trap the wolf had made his black heart sing.
He’d watched as his army went after the wolf and the others, figuring they’d be cut off from the rest of their pack members, but the beasts had subverted his plans and gotten to their stranded members far earlier than he’d hoped.
When Brent’s number two fell, throat torn out as he tried to wield a knife against one of the bird-lions, he’d known it was the end.
Heading for safety, he planned to rendezvous with his people at their new safehouse.
But he didn’t leave just yet.
He had a call to make.
Still furious that he’d lost so many mercenaries that he’d already paid, he waited for the call to connect.
“Hawthorne.”
“It’s Foley.”
There was a pause, and then the famous shifter poacher said, “You must have some good news for me.Since I told you not to call me until you found a unique shifter for me to hunt.”
Brent was pissed.
Aboutsomuch stuff.
But mostly that he needed Hawthorne even more now, since he’d lost so many in the battle.He’d have to recruit again.
“I do,” he said.“Where are you?”
“I’m in Utah, dealing with an issue for the sale of a rare rust-colored wolf.What do you have for me?”
“What do you know about bird-lion mixes?”
“Like a hybrid?Or do you mean a gryphon?”Brent could tell he was intrigued.
“I’ll send you a picture.There are several, plus an eagle and a white lion.I don’t know where this group is staying, but I know one of them is living with the wolves.”He sent Hawthorne an image he’d snapped of the bird-lion with the wolf.
He’d be impressed with the creature if he didn’t hate shifters so much.
“Oh, my,” Hawthorne said.
He sounded like he was salivating.
