She had him, dead to rights.

  She sprang into action, landing on him with fierce determination and clawing at him. The scuffle was so fast that she could hardly tell which part of him she had, so she snapped her jaws wildly, trying for his throat or something soft so she could do some damage.

  When she finally caught flesh, she let out a fierce, guttural snarl.

  How dare this interloper cross into Pray lands unannounced?

  She didn’t have long to think on it, because one second she was on top, and the next they were rolling across the damp earth, over and over again as they battled for supremacy. Razor-sharp teeth nipped her shoulder, and she yelped, bucking hard against him and lunging forward, narrowly missing a shot at his ear.

  Even in the midst of her anger, she had to admit, he was an excellent fighter. Far more crafty than the rabble the Kotke had sent the week before, and twice as strong than their strongest.

  He was like a professional boxer, deftly avoiding all her attacks and trying to tire her until he could land the knock out.

  Well, if that was how he was going to play, then he was in for a rude awakening. She had stamina for days, and when it came to their territory, there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect them.

  No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than he disengaged and stepped back to circle her slowly. She felt a weird tickle in her brain, a sort of vibration, almost like he was trying to communicate with her. She shook her head to clear it and reassess. That was ludicrous. He wasn't of her pack. Either she was addled from the fight or she was imagining things so, even if she'd wanted to hear what this wolf had to say, she couldn't have.

  She growled low in her throat, leaning back on her hind legs as if to pounce again. Before she'd gotten her chance, though, he was already trotting behind her, continuing his circles.

  She kept her gaze locked on him, appraising his every move. Waiting. Anticipating the next strike.

  He was bigger than she'd thought, and had landed a good many blows himself. She was fatigued, and nearly every joint in her body ached with the effort of her battle. Still, even if he was twice her size, there was no doubt in her mind. This was a fight she was going to win.

  He paused for just one second and, heart racing, she pounced.

  Apparently, it was exactly what he'd thought she’d do, because he was ready for her. She watched in mid-air as he side-stepped her, allowing her front paws to connect hard with the ground as he pinned her down from behind. She tried to roll again, but this time he was having none of it. Each of his paws was the size of an oven mitt, and he kept her there, every inch of his muscular frame tensed, holding her in place.

  She flexed and wriggled beneath him in an effort to slither from his hold. If she didn't get out of this, she was done for. She couldn't allow it. Wouldn't let herself go out like this.

  But even as she flailed, she sensed a change in him. The weight of him seemed to lessen, the tension seemed to uncoil, the pressure holding her in place became infinitely more concentrated.

  She strained to move her head, and with one eye she spotted it in the dim light. There was no longer a paw on hers, but rather a big, masculine hand.

  "Shhh. Stop fighting," he said, moving to grip her wrists when she ignored him.

  Maybe her luck hadn't completely run out after all.

  If she transformed now, his hold on her would slip as he adjusted to the change in her size. Sure, it was a long shot, but she had to take the chance.

  After all, it was the only one she had.

  Closing her eyes, she focused all her attention on her human form, willing her body to react. Not so easy in this situation when her blood was running hot and her adrenaline was high. When it did, she didn’t hesitate. She bucked hard, yanking her arms outright to her sides at the same time. His grip was strong, but her speed was legend, and she flipped him off her and made for the path.

  Okay, so maybe she couldn't beat this guy, but she could get back to the house. She could warn her pack. She could—

  Fwap. Something hard and warm snagged her ankle, and then she was flailing toward the ground, hands outstretched to break her fall.

  So this would be the end. Not in the midst of an epic battle between warring packs. Not after logging her tenth kill. No, Maggie Porter, badass extraordinaire was going to go out like a punk, buck naked in the woods.

  Leave it to Fate to keep her humble.

  CHAPTER TWO

  "O h for crying out loud, will you calm the fuck down,” Grey said, tightening his hold on her legs.

  He was trying to go easy on her, but she wasn’t making it easy.

  He felt her scrabbling for something with her hands and then promptly regretted not stopping her as a rock hit him in the forehead, dead center.

  Not bad. He resisted the urge to rub at the offended spot. She had pretty good aim. He had to give her credit for that much. What he didn't have to give her credit for was, well, anything else, because she was a real pain in the ass so far.

  He'd been standing with her ankles in his clutches for a solid minute and she still hadn't said a single word.

  "You do realize that if I'd wanted to kill you, I could have done it about a hundred times over by now."

  He tugged on her silky ankle and pulled her toward him, and though she tried to use the move to wriggle for escape again, she did nothing more than reinforce his hold on her and give him a stellar view of her pert little ass.

  She growled low in her throat.

  "How about you throw more rocks at me? I'll make a target in the dirt, and you can make a sort of game out of it. Like a poor man’s game of horseshoes." He chuckled at his own attempt at humor, but she was clearly unimpressed.

  "How about I make a chair of your bones?" she asked, her voice modulated to sound falsely pleasant.

  And what a voice it was. Like hot, buttered rum, smooth and silky. Melodic and just husky enough to make him wonder what she sounded like during sex.

  "She speaks," he observed lightly, making sure to keep his reaction to her from his own voice. Goodwill visit or not, he still shouldn’t be thinking about sleeping with the enemy.

  Not even one with a fine ass like that.

  He shoved the thought aside and considered his options before finally settling on a compromise.

  “Look, I’m willing to let you up, but you have to promise not to run.” Her head was already bobbing in the moonlight and she was opening her mouth to agree when he cut her off. “And you have to promise not to hit me. Or throw rocks. Or bite me. In fact, let’s just go with a sweeping ‘no violence’ rule. Give me five minutes to talk to you and I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me. Deal?”

  She fell silent again. Was this how he was going to spend his night? Staring at the backside of a naked woman who wouldn't listen? Not that he hadn't had worse nights, but this definitely was not what he'd had in mind when he'd decided to make the trip over here.

  Before he was able to come up with another solution, she nodded her gleaming, dark head. “Fine. Five minutes.”

  He released her ankles and rolled to his feet, tensed to break into a sprint and chase her down if he had to. But she surprised him by rolling onto her side and shifting to her feet to stand before him.

  He had a speech all planned out on the way over. Something about war. And peace. Except every thought drained from his head along with the blood and went straight to his cock. It was dark out but the stars and the moon gave off enough light, even through the thick canopy of trees, that he could see her fairly well.

  And what he could see? Was spectacular. Long, thick black hair hung past her shoulders, the waves brushing the tips of her pert breasts. Her stomach was lean, her hips full, and those legs went on forever.

  “What are you, like five ten?” he heard himself ask.

  She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, not out of modesty, but out of amusement. “Is that what you came all the way her to ask me? Yeah, I’m five ten.”

  He cleared his throat and forced himself to think about the issue at hand. He’d been in a pack his whole life and had never been so distracted by nudity before. It would behoove him not to start now.

  "I have something to tell you and your people.”

  "Why would I believe anything you have to say? You’re from the Big Sky Canyon pack, right? I've heard enough from Chandra to know better than that."

  A low blow. Chandra had left his pack and joined the Pray clan months before. For his father, it had been a tipping point. The sharpening of the arrow's head that was now directed squarely at the Pray wolves.

  Grey hadn’t said it out loud, but he hadn't blamed the woman for leaving. In truth, he wondered why more wolves hadn't followed her. If anything, the fact that so many pack members remained was a tribute to just how much fear his father could inspire in his people. Grey himself had left, only to come back when he got word of how bad things had gotten. Which was why it was imperative to keep war at bay as best he could until he convinced his father to let him take his place.

  "Again, I refer you to the previous comment. The one about how you're still alive. Surely that earns me a kernel of trust." He returned her hard gaze, and she narrowed her pretty, dark eyes. "Listen, maybe we started off on the wrong foot—"

  "You started off on the wrong land," she cut in.

  "None of that matters,” he snapped, at his wit’s end with her now. “You’re not going to have any land if you don’t listen to me. Your pack is in danger. The human—"

  "Amber," she corrected, her eyes now little more than slits.

  "Amber, then, has caused a rift in the community."

  "We settled this with the Kotke when they came a-knocking, and we’ll settle it with you too, if we have to. We will not kill her. She belongs to the pack now."

  "She belongs to the pack, but she's still a human?" This time he tried to make his words sound calmer, but the result was much the same as it had been before.

  "We’re not prepared to let her turn right yet."

  "Well you don’t have much of a choice in the matter. It needs to happen, and fast."

  "Who do you think you are to come in here and tell us how to run our pack? Don't you have some children to eat or something? Last time I checked, that was the Big Sky Canyon M. O."

  The words burned like acid but only because they were true.

  His father's cruelty had not been restricted to tormenting the pack. The last time Grey had left Joseph unchecked, he had gone for a hunt and stumbled upon a family in the mountains. When Grey had returned home, it was to find what was left of their carcasses waiting for him. The older wolves had been proud, had celebrated the alpha and toasted to him.

  The rest of the pack?

  They looked to Grey, waiting for him to step in. Waiting for him to confirm the one thing he’d suspected since his return.

  His father was losing his mind.

  He’d always been strict and old-fashioned. Since Grey could remember, he’d had a blatant disregard for human life. But now? He was a bloodthirsty monster, and disregard had turned to zealous hatred. Age had brought on a dementia-fueled paranoia that was eating away at what was left of his compassion. And this encounter with the Pray wolves was about to be the tipping point. If they followed him into war, win or lose, the aftermath would lead the pack from reluctant obedience to total chaos in the form of mutiny and civil war.

  If he could put an end to all of it—if he could stop the battle before it began, then he had a chance of saving dozens of lives.

  All he had to do was convince the woman in front of him that, if he had a little time to work, the future could be altered.

  Though, it seemed that was going to be far easier said than done.

  "Stick with your pre-conceived notions of me if you want to, but I defy you to find a single wolf who would say I would kill a human for sport,” he said wearily.

  She cocked her head in confusion but rebounded quickly, pursing her lips and pinning him with a challenging gaze. "But you sit by and allow it from your packmates, though?”

  “Not everything is so cut and dry, woman,” he tried again, though frustration was already burning to the surface inside of him, ready to erupt. “From what I hear, even your pack was divided on the topic of your human, so spare me the soapbox. I'm not here to argue with you,"

  "You're here to attack me—"

  "God dammit, woman. I'm here to save your sorry ass. Big Sky is bigger than the Kotke. We’re smarter, faster, stronger. Do you honestly think you can defeat us so handily? Even if you prevail, there will be heavy losses on both sides. You have to tell your pack. Get them to turn the human at the very least. That will buy me some time. It won’t stop my father, but it will make it much less palatable for the rest of the pack to get behind him, and that’s all I need right now.”

  She shifted restlessly from foot to foot and stepped into a moonbeam that lit her from head to toe. God, she was beautiful.

  Color flooded her chest, snaking along her neck until her cheeks were a bright, rosy red. "What's your endgame?"

  "Sorry?" he asked, trying to get him back in the game.

  "You obviously don't care about 'the human’." Her fingers curled into air-quotes around the word. "So why are you here? Do you care about my pack or werewolf relations? Or is this just politics, and you’re trying to stage a coup?"

  Anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach, and he clenched his fists. His patience for this had worn so thin it was threadbare. She didn't want to tell her people about the battle? That was fine. But he wasn't about to let her stand in judgment of his ethics.

  "I care about my people," he growled.

  "Enough to give us a warning so that me and mine are prepared and at the ready now that we know you’re coming for sure?” She let out a laugh. "Sounds like love to me. Good luck in your bid for becoming alpha, buddy. You’re going to need it."

  He was so done with the conversation, he didn’t bother with a response.

  He wheeled around and plowed into the foliage, back in the direction he’d come.

  Screw her.

  If she wanted to watch her people die, let that be on her conscience. At least he’d tried, and it wouldn’t be on his.

  What did she know about caring for a group of people? She wasn’t trying to alpha from the second-in-command spot in secret. She didn’t have nearly two dozen wolves coming to her for guidance behind her alpha’s back. She wasn’t the one responsible for her pack’s future.

  Which was why, tomorrow, he would cross the boundary again and this time, he wouldn’t stop until he found Liam, like he should’ve from the start. Maybe the Pray alpha would be more willing to listen.

  And if not? If he, too, was mistrustful of some nefarious Trojan horse plot?

  Then they were all going to find themselves in a little town called Fucked.

  * * *

  MAGGIE BANGED her head against the bark of the tree and let out a deep sigh.

  Damned Amber.

  Maggie had said from the beginning that they shouldn't have let her in. Just like they shouldn’t have let Amalie in the first time around. Exceptions like that only led to confusion and chaos.

  She should have listened to her instincts. Shouldn't have been such a weakling and backed down when the rest of the pack pressed to bring her into the fold.

  Shouldn't have grown to like her.

  Sure, it was begrudgingly, but Maggie couldn’t lie to herself anymore. “The human” was growing on her, in exactly the way Amalie had. That was the only explanation for her anger when this interloper refused to call her by name.

  Now, she a choice before her, and one of her options was quickly slipping away through the trees. She’d witnessed how fast he was firsthand. Once he was gone, she'd never be able to catch up with him once he found his stride. Even with his now-familiar scent to track him by, he’d be in Big Sky territory before she even got close.

  It was now or never.

  She rolled her eyes and shifted, charging through the foliage for a few minutes until she spotted his tanned skin through the branches. He hadn’t shifted and, even in her wolf form, her mouth watered at the sight of his firm backside and chiseled obliques. The man had muscles to spare, and combined with that shaggy black hair and those piercing eyes? Well, she was sure the ladies were lining the block to get a piece of him.

  Not that any of that mattered. He was still the enemy.

  Probably.

  And she had to stay on her game. Right now that meant getting ready to pounce again.

  He stepped into a little clearing and she made her move, leaping through the air and knocking him to the ground. All paw, no claw this time, in deference to the fact that she was starting to second-guess herself on his motives.

  "You know, the first time I was willing to let you slide, but now I have to tell you. There are other ways of greeting people." He ground the words out before rolling over and shoving her onto the dirt as she became human again.

  "There are a few more things I need to know."

  "So now you want to talk?" He lifted an eyebrow, rolling to his feet with a sigh. She started to say her piece, but even though the words had been crystal clear in her head a moment before, they were all but lost to her now.

  He’d been cloaked in shadow before, so she only saw him in short bursts, when the moon hit him right. Now, he was in full view and it was clear that her nakedness had had a profound effect on him, and even if he didn't bring her attention to the fact, it was hard to ignore. Her mouth still open, she tried to pull her gaze away from the thick erection jutting between his muscular thighs.

  Yep, definitely alpha material.

  "Impressed, sweetie?" A cocky smirk was spreading across his handsome face.

  Stupid. Stupid. He's the enemy, not a plaything.

  What was it about men and their dick hubris?

  "Not really,” she snapped back, willing him to believe the lie in spite of the heat flooding her cheeks. “And my name is Maggie.”

  "Maggie, huh? I gotta admit, that’s a little less rough and tumble than I expected," he said.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8