Page 339 of Alpha Mates

“Aiden,” Julian murmurs, pulling my gaze to him, quelling the red haze at the edges of my vision. His frown is tight. “We’re not going into this on emotion.”

It’s the same words I just said to him, but it’s harder receiving them than saying them.

“I know,” I grit out, but I can hear the growl that comes with it. I clear my throat, try again. “I know.” Still rough. Still jagged. I inhale, hold it, release it. “I know,” I repeat, and this time, it sticks.

Julian nods, his support brushing against me through our bond, it’s warmth like a passing touch over my heart. It dulls the phantom itch under my skin, but doesn’t erase it.

Nothing will until I set eyes on Reon myself.

Julian shifts into his massive white wolf that ensnares everyone’s attention. The rest follow, warriors and fighters shifting one by one until we’re perched on hind legs and ready to put an end to this, once and for all.

I shift last. Bones crack and rearrange, muscle stretching under fur, until I’m on four legs. Julian lifts his head and howls—a warning, a call to arms … a mourning song. It echoes around us, and I hope Reon hears it. I hope he knows exactly what it means.

Then I take off, my mate at my side, and the hunt begins.

The scent of rogues hits hard as we race through unclaimed lands—barren, cracked, lifeless. A strange contrast from what we’d crossed through, which was rich with life in comparison.

It’s as if their stench has grown physical roots here, poisoning the soil. The terrain morphs into dense Tanglewood and mountains loom in the distance. I already hate the idea of having to climb one—then a flash of sharpened wood catches my eye.

I skid to a stop, compelling the wolves at my side to do the same, as they ready for a fight, but it’s not that. I pad closer, eyes narrowing when I catch the gleam of carved spikes jutting from the dirt. The closest wolves leaps over, barely missing the skilfully hidden bear trap.

I toe closer, catching the reek of wolfsbane as Julian joins my side.

They’re setting traps now?he growls through the bond.

Guess so,I grumble, watching him paw around the surrounding leaves until the mechanism’s fangs snap shut.I miss when they just came at you swinging.

Julian huffs and shifts smoothly onto two feet, shouting to those outside our pack link. “Traps! We can assume there are more of them ahead meant to slow us down. Let’s move off course, but keep your eyes to the ground and ears open.”

“They’re not too far,” Katerina calls down, floating above the rest of us. Her magic keeps us hidden, and while a few wolves still look like they’d rather be gutted than owe her anything, none of them are stupid enough to complain while we’re this exposed. “I can feel them.”

“Lead us back if we get too far off course?” Julian asks.

She nods before drifting ahead, spurring the others back into motion before Julian shifts again.

I run beside him, keeping closer than usual, and ask what I know he’s already thinking.

What if he was leading us into a trap?I don’t say his name, knowing it’s too soon.

Hewasn’t,is all he says.

We run forever. Or what feels like it. Miles blur underfoot as we chew through their lead, saving just enough energy to keep from burning out. But it’s already midday, meaning there’s no cover of night, no ambushes or advantage.

We’re going into this blind, without any intel. We have no plan pastfind him, kill him.But stopping isn’t an option, not until I have him.

“I see them,” Katerina announces, descending with a frown that tightens my gut.

We coast to a stop in a thick nestle of trees that grow wildly with roots sprawled over each other above ground. Stepping between them, we blend into the shadows, closing in on the small commune masquerading as a base.

Unlike their camp before, there is only one structure here, and its foundations are made of steel, not wood. Not a pack camp, but a stronghold. Or what’s left of one. It’s tattered, clearly having been abandoned at some point.

The stained windows are covered by a flapping tarp, but rogues man every inch of it. Even the roof crawls with sentries with fucking bow and arrows, and with no way of telling how many are inside, a frontal assault isn’t on the table.

We can’t just attack. We’ve lost enough today as it is,Julian says through our link as he surveys them.

I know,I reply, but that doesn’t mean I have any ideas beyond waiting them out. But I’m not the strategist here. I glance at my mate, finding his blue eyes resolved.Got a plan?

Yeah, he says.It’s a bad one.