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Story: Ranger's Pursuit

“He’s avoided the outermost ones, but we lost feed on two units by the creek. Either knocked out or jammed.”

Rush growls low. “He's testing us. Getting a read on how we respond. We need to assume he plans to breach.”

I nod. “Set contingency triggers. If the internal perimeter is breached, fallback routes go live. We use the underground if necessary. Gage, load all last-known visuals of the Reaper and known associates. I want profiles pushed to every screen.”

Sutton enters then, weapon holstered, eyes sharp, scanning the room like a seasoned operator. Her confidence radiates, a razor-sharp edge honed by necessity, but I catch the subtle tell—the way her fingers flex against her thigh, a quick, unconscious clench and release. She’s scared, no question. But that fear hasn’t paralyzed her—it’s hardened her resolve.

I move to her, slow and deliberate, placing a firm hand at the small of her back. She leans into me like it’s instinct, her body aligning with mine as if we’ve done this a hundred times before. The connection is immediate, electric. Her breath hitches, just slightly, and I feel the tension radiating off her skin—heat wrapped in steel. There’s no hesitation, no artifice. Just two souls on the brink, finding anchor in each other before the storm breaks.

“You okay?” I murmur.

She tilts her head. “Are you asking because you think I’m fragile or because you know I’m not?”

“Because I care.”

Her expression softens, a flicker of something tender flashing in her eyes. Her fingers curl briefly around mine, warm and steady, like a silent vow passed skin to skin. The contact grounds me, pulling me back from the violent anticipation coursing through my veins—just long enough to remind me what I’m fighting for.

Rush steps forward, voice even but edged. “Might be time to pull her deeper in.”

I lift my head, the growl already in my throat. “That call’s mine,” I bite out, gravel and steel.

He doesn’t flinch. Just holds my stare, then gives a slight nod. “Not challenging. Just preparing for worst-case.”

Sutton steps past me, chin high, fire sparking in her eyes. “I don’t run unless every one of you is down. And if that happens, the Reaper dies screaming.”

The room stills. Her voice slices through the air like a blade. Dalton lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’s Deacon’s.”

Something primal tears through me. Not just pride—something darker. Fiercer. Like the wolf in me recognizes hers and wants the world to know she’s mine. I drag in a breath, slow and hard, like I’m bracing for impact. My hand finds hers, knuckles brushing the soft skin, needing that anchor more than I want to admit.

“Don’t stray far from the house,” I murmur, voice thick with possession.

She lifts her gaze, fire meeting fire. “I won’t.”

The words land like a promise—and a dare. I close the space between us, palm curling around the back of her neck, fingers splayed wide. Her breath hitches, and I dip my head, letting my mouth skim her ear, my voice rough silk against her skin.

Then Gage curses, eyes locked on the tablet in his hand. “Movement. South gate. Fast approach.”

The screen blinks, crackling faintly as grainy footage jumps into motion—figures flit through the underbrush, their forms blurred but unmistakably human. Shadows ripple beneath the trees, dark shapes weaving through the moonlit foliage with eerie precision. Every movement is swift, purposeful, like predators closing in. The silence around the monitor seems to deepen, stretching tight as my gut twists with recognition—this isn’t just a scouting party. It’s a hunt.

“Can’t confirm identities yet,” he says, “but they’re not animals. They’re walking upright.”

“Coyote shifters?” Rush asks.

“Bet on it.”

I glance at Sutton, and her gaze meets mine. Time to fight. Time to protect what’s mine.

“You got your gun?” I ask.

“Yep. Small of my back.”

I nod, glad she’s a cop’s daughter and he raised her right. “Don’t go anywhere without it and make sure you have an extra ammo clip.”

The storm hasn’t just arrived—it’s clawed its way inside, dragging blood and ruin in its wake.

CHAPTER 16

SUTTON