Beast handed her the weapon, careful to keep the barrel pointed out the door she’d just kicked open. “Pray for headlights. Let’s go. And for God’s sake, be quiet. Fucking humans are loud as elephants in the woods.”
Emma looked down at the billowing T-shirt and pink galoshes Beast had shoved onto her feet. This right here was a man with impossible expectations. Shaking her head, she slid out of the truck and shouldered the strap of the gun, then closed the door as softly as possible.
She followed Beast quietly, but not two steps into the woods, a long, low howl lifted into the air, then was joined by another, and another, and another, and another…
“Shhhit,” Beast muttered. “Valdoro pack should only be two wolves. Axton must’ve brought in reinforcements. Screw making noise, Human, move those legs.”
“What are they doing?” she whispered as she sprinted behind him on a trail he’d obviously used before.
“Hunting. Or killing.”
No. No, no, no. Dustin was out here, and she got the awful feeling something bad was happening to him. He’d chosen the side that was going to get him hurt, or worse. Bile crept up her throat as Emma pushed her legs harder. Beast was too fast, his strides twice the length of hers. He was graceful like the big cat that dwelled inside of him and apparently had fantastic night vision.
Up ahead, she could make out light through the trees. Her legs and lungs burned, but still she pushed herself faster, squishing through the mud, slipping and sliding and scrabbling for purchase as Beast lengthened the distance between them. Beast disappeared into the night, and Emma had a horrifying moment of panic. Up until the point he grabbed her ankle and dragged her down beside him. He’d flattened down behind some brush, so she settled the rifle on a strip of grass in front of them and did the same. Through the branches, she could see them.
In the high beams of several cars, there was a loose circle of wolves, ducking in and out, dodging, some lowering to their bellies before standing again, ears erect, lips curled back. Their teeth weren’t white, though. They were red. The howling and yipping was constant.
The circle thinned in front of Emma and Beast, and she gasped at what she saw. A massive black wolf was tangled in a vicious fight with two gray wolves.
Emma bolted upward, but Beast dragged her down and slammed a hand over her mouth, then shook his head and gave her the deadliest look she’d ever seen.
Read my lips, he mouthed. There is no honor among wolves. He’s giving them hell, but they will eventually kill him. Which one is Axton?
She shook her head. Dustin never told me what he looked like.
Fuck. I’m going in. If you figure out which one the alpha is… Beast gripped the barrel of her rifle and shook it gently, then raised his eyebrows. End it.
Okay. Beast! She grabbed his arm. They’ll kill you.
Beast shrugged and smiled sadly. All I have to live for is the D-Team. He hesitated a moment more, stood and pulled off his shirt, and then strode into the clearing.
His battle cry tapered into a roar, and the massive, broken lion he kept tucked inside of him ripped out of his skin. Some of the wolves scattered for a second, but as Beast charged, the pack rallied.
Emma couldn’t take her eyes from Dustin. He was brutal, and already three lay dead around him. He was holding his own with two, and with Beast taking heat off him, he was moving more freely, snapping and snarling and connecting with flesh so fast he blurred from one position to the next. A submissive animal shouldn’t be able to do what he was doing, but perhaps the pack had finally broken him. Perhaps they’d finally pushed him too far.
She had to figure out which one was Axton. He couldn’t be one of the dead ones, or the wolves would’ve pulled off the attack. Unless the alpha of the other pack here was calling all the shots now. God, she wished she understood pack dynamics better, but Dustin had always seemed to want to live in the here-and-now and forget about pack stuff when he was with her. Now she realized he had been protecting them in a way. She hated their hold on him.
Dustin and Beast were fighting side by side, mauling the wolves as they lunged. More were trotting in from the woods to the east, though. Axton had called in multiple packs, and all for what? To kidnap her? To kill her? No. The psychopath had pulled in packs to kill his own flesh and blood brother. She fucking hated them.
Emma pulled the hammer back and shoved a bullet into the chamber, took off the safety, and carefully aimed the rifle through the branches. She couldn’t hit a single one or the ricochet could be catastrophic. The scope was picking up some light, but she was limited on where she could aim. Several parked cars had their headlights on, but even if she could get a clear shot, Dustin and Beast were everywhere. Two killing machines with empty eyes and blood-soaked muzzles. Dustin’s fur was matted, but if he was hurt, he wasn’t acting like it. He fought without a limp, fought without any impairment—just lethal precision.
He’d joked about being submissive, even told her about hating that part of himself, but he wasn’t giving his neck to anyone tonight.
Dustin was war in motion.
The brush rustled behind her, and with a gasp, Emma rolled over onto her back, dragging the gun with her. The wolf that ran from the ferns was hideous. He was a mottled black and gray wolf with white eyes and burn scars down one side of his body. He looked like he had mange since his hair only grew in patches. His lips were curled back, exposing razor sharp teeth. He was lanky, but bigger than Dustin’s wolf by several inches. His face was the stuff of nightmares. Axton, she would venture to guess.