Page 17 of Brock’s Mate

Fuck on a stick. She was a dominant wolf, and she was going to fight him. He could take her down, but not without hurting her. And if the humans had heard the disturbance and were on their way with guns, she could get them both killed.

He said, First off, hard ‘no’ on the submission. Second, we need to get the hell out of here. Now.

Why should I abandon my kill, so someone else can claim it?

There was the sharp crack of a hunting rifle, and a bullet whined past them.

Because that? Brock said.

The she-wolf whirled and gazed in the direction the shot had come from, growling. I will kill them.

Oh, hell. Brock leaped at her, knocking her to the ground just as another bullet whined through the space where her chest had been. You think so? Really?

Then he heard the drunken yells, and the sound of ATVs revving up. A moment later, the baying of dogs split the night.

The wolf hunt was starting.

Chapter 7

Run! Brock yelled mentally.

Of course she didn’t. She went into a crouch, growling as the baying grew closer and the ATV headlights turned in their direction.

Kill them! she repeated.

How about, get the fuck out of here before we die? He leaped at Desi, nipping her flanks, getting her moving and herding her away from them. You can’t kill a rifle, you idiot!

There were more shots, more bullets.

GO! This was no time for subtlety or persuasion; Brock put all the mental juice he had into that order.

She went, heading back the way they’d both come. But the dogs and the ATVs were right behind them, sounding like every Bubba in the county was gathered right here.

Because of course they couldn’t be drinking at someone else’s place on a Saturday night. Brock wasn’t that lucky.

The two wolves raced into the woods, Brock guiding Desi with mental nudges, helped along with the occasional nip on her flanks.

Luckily, the ‘flight’ portion of her ‘fight or flight’ instincts seemed to have kicked in, and she was no longer trying to single-handedly bring down all the ATVs and their riders.

Not that he didn’t applaud the badass attitude, but you had to know when you were outnumbered, not to mention outgunned.

They headed into the trees, but Brock knew that wouldn’t save them. The ATV trails ran all through these woods, and if these were trained hunting dogs, they’d trap them and run them to ground.

He could smell water ahead—a stream or a pond. Water was a tried-and-true method of throwing dogs off the scent, but it wouldn’t fool them for long; they’d cast around on the other side until they picked up the trail again.

But it might buy them a couple of minutes. All Brock had to do was get them back to the car and manage to get Desi to Change back before the hunters caught up to them.

The water turned out to be a pond—icy cold but with only a thin skin of ice beginning to form at the edges. Brock drove Desi straight into it. Water splashed up on either side of them, but it was shallow enough that they could touch bottom the whole way.

Brock angled their trajectory slightly to the left—the hunters would expect them to go straight across, and most people were right-handed and tended to head to the right when given a choice. Sending them the long way around the pond might buy him and Desi another minute.

The tactic worked, just not quite as well as Brock had hoped. As they neared the road the dogs were still way too close, although he’d managed to steer them away from the ATV trail, so the hunters were a bit further behind.

Maybe they could still make it.

They were almost to the edge of the woods when Desi stumbled and fell. Brock could sense her mind churning, her thoughts going jumbled and chaotic. He felt familiar pain shooting through her.

Oh, fuck. She was Changing back.