Page 22 of His to Hunt

“Uh, what are you suggesting, Joe?” the guy next to him asks, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“What, you wearing a wire, fucker? I have to spell it out?” Joe snaps. “You know what I’m saying.”

“She alone?” Garth asks.

“Frank and Melinda go out some nights,” Joe says.

“Tonight?” LeDoux asks.

“Can’t be tonight. They’re home.” Joe shakes his head.

“Do they have money in the house?” LeDoux leans forward, flicking his cigarette at Joe’s feet. “You don’t work for Frank no more.”

Joe looks around at the others. Their expressions darken. They lean just a little closer, lowering their voices. Now they’re discussing Melinda, Frank’s wife. How easily they could kill Frank if they had to. But Taryn’s the prize. That’s what Joe wants. He doesn’t even seem to care about the money. The money is just what makes the others lean closer.

I guess I’ve heard enough.

I’m a streak of smoke as I burst out of the shadows, fangs bared, seven hundred pounds of fury slamming into Joe’s chest before I bite through his neck.

The others are still staring at Joe’s body twitching in the dirt when I turn on Garth. He reaches for something at his belt, but he never gets it free. The rest of them scramble, shouting obscenities and screaming. I take out LeDoux’s hamstring, then my paw crushes his skull.

A few turns and just as many screams, and it’s over. The last one only makes it three steps before I’m on his back. But now there are people turning on lights in the trailers. They’re coming outside. The massacre is bad enough. I don’t need them to see what actually killed these men.

I turn and leap into the shadows, accelerating to top speed as I whip around trees and over uneven terrain. Everything’s a blur now. I’m moving so fast I’m silent. I don’t slow down until I’m near Taryn’s neighborhood.

I stop by a stream, shift, and clean the blood off my body. I let out a few deep breaths and feel the adrenaline settling. But I can’t rest yet. I shift back into wolf form and head to my campsite, but that isn’t good enough either. I keep going until I’m outside her sliding glass door. Until I know she’s safe.

And she is. Safe in her bed. Unaware of the horror that was coming for her tonight.

Was it drunken bullshit among friends or an actual threat? I don’t know. It should bother me, but it doesn’t. They spoke it into existence, and they got what they deserved. Frank and Melinda will sleep soundly tonight, all because of the girl they keep in their fucking miserable basement.

I shift, snarl, and slam my fist into the ground. I tense up immediately because she hears it and sits up in bed.

I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. Not until her head is back on her pillow.

“Fuck,” I exhale a pent up breath.

I just left a pile of corpses on the outskirts of suburbia. A pile torn apart by a wolf. This isn’t New Salem. The cops don’t look the other way when they find a crime scene that looks like a savage animal tore through a trailer park. All of that should matter, but the only thing I give a fuck about is sleeping a few feet in front of me.

I’ve never felt more connected to my wolf. Never felt such peace after violence.

This curse needs to be broken. I can’t let my world narrow down to auburn hair and sad gray eyes. This is too dangerous. I’ll do unthinkable things for her, just to do unthinkable things to her.

My nails claw the dirt and I call my wolf. I sprint back to my campsite and shift again, leaning back against a tree.

I don’t have any missed calls from Saul.

Fuck.

Taryn is safe. Nothing else matters right now. The mating bond is getting stronger, but the frenzy isn’t here yet. I can still resist her, even if I’m tearing apart the scum of Covington because they thought about harming her.

I doze off for a while, but my head rises instinctively when the light comes on in the basement. Taryn’s awake. She’s going to the diner, I’m sure. I’m also sure she’s running late again. Foolish little girl. She should have found a spell that wakes her up on time every day.

As much as it aches, I don’t rush down just to catch a glimpse of her gorgeous body. My dick throbs to attention, so I unzip my pants. I let it push free, hard enough to ache in the cool air. But it wants her a lot more than it wants freedom.

“Damn it,” I grunt, reaching down and stroking my cock.

It’s going to get worse the closer I get to the frenzy. This need. The frenzy is inescapable. It’s going to get worse the closer I get to the frenzy. This inescapable need. This hunger. It’ll consume me.