Page 1 of The Enforcers: KANE

Prologue

Ten years ago

“Hunter. Hunter. Come to me, Hunter…”

The whispering voice tore at his exhausted brain, shredding him from the inside out. He had to get up…

“Hunter, they’re going to kill me. You have to kill them first.”

Kane looked around frantically. Who? Where?

He growled. No one could be allowed to hurt Selina. No one. He was her Hunter. Hers. She’d tell him how to make them stop.

She’d tell him how to make them hurt.

Visions swirled in his mind. Hunting on the dark streets, paws on wet asphalt. Tracking down his prey. Dragging it home to place at her feet.

Blood. Pain. Ecstasy. Death.

Selina’s smile. Blood dripping from her fingers, smearing on his skin as she caressed him. He lived for that smile. For her touch.

“Hunter…”

He had to go to her.

He lurched up off the bed but was stopped by the chains that bound him to the bedframe, encircling his wrists and ankles, binding him across his chest, hips, and thighs.

“Hunter…I need you…”

He strained against the chains, feeling them cut into his flesh. Enraged, Wolf burst out of his skin with a snarling howl—but it didn’t help. They were still bound.

Kane fought back to the surface, forcing Wolf inside. Wolf raged against him, and his skin rippled and his bones broke over and over as they battled.

He had to stay sane. He couldn’t listen to the voice; he couldn’t listen to his feelings. They’d betrayed him. They’d made him betray little Raven.

“Hunter…”

It was just in his head. Selina was in his head, not really here. He could block her out.

Stop feeling, he told himself. Start thinking. Look around. She’s not here.

Kane forced Wolf back, inch by inch. Selina was gone. He’d broken free of her.

The chains cut into him. Free. The irony was killing him.

A small hand slid under his head and he felt a bottle at his lips. “Drink this,” a voice whispered, helping him hold his head up.

Cool water trickled down his sore throat.

A surge of hope lurched through him. “Raven?” he gasped. His voice was hoarse. Had he been screaming?

“No, it’s me. Israel.”

Kane took another swallow of the blessed cool liquid and opened his eyes. A young boy looked down at him, his gray eyes worried. He was small and skinny, about fourteen.

Israel.

Whirling visions took over his mind again. An empty, echoing warehouse. A cage. Those wide gray eyes, staring at him from inside it.