Page 24 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

Anders didn’t respond to that. His years in the Army Special Forces had taught him to recognize various agencies’ operational signatures. What he was seeing matched the classified projects he’d glimpsed during his service—projects the public wasn’t supposed to know existed.

As they reached the tree line bordering the residential area, Anders slowed, signaling for stealth. From here, they could see the black SUVs, Etta now slumped in the grip of two men as they approached the lead vehicle.

Wait, he whispered to Conall. Don’t move until—

The sensation washed over him—terror, pain, and desperate need surging through a connection he’d only begun to understand. The mate bond, still forming between them, suddenly flared to life with urgent intensity.

Anders gasped, actually staggering under the force of Etta’s emotions flooding through him.

Her fear tasted metallic in his mouth, her pain burned along his spine as if the mark on her neck had been carved into his own skin.

Anders? Conall’s voice barely registered.

The bond pulsed again, stronger this time.

His wolf surged forward again, and a partial shift rippled through him—not the full transformation, but enough that his muscles bulged, his senses sharpened, his teeth and nails elongating into lethal points.

Stay here, he growled to Conall, the words distorted by his partially transformed mouth.

Before Conall could respond, Anders was moving. His enhanced senses mapped every detail of the scene—five heartbeats, the scent of gun oil and tactical gear beneath civilian clothes, the sharp tang of fear and pain rolling off Etta in waves.

The men were professionals, maintaining situational awareness even while handling their struggling captive. But they weren’t prepared for a partially shifted wolf with Special Forces training moving in on them.

Anders circled behind the vehicles, using their bulk for cover. The mate bond throbbed stronger with proximity, Etta’s pain and terror driving him forward despite the tactical risks.

One of the men opened the rear door of the lead SUV, while another readied what looked like restraints. They were speaking, their voices too low for normal humans to hear but perfectly audible to Anders.

Asset secure for transport, one said, his tone clinical. Neural inhibitor active at seventy percent.

Proceed to the Chimera facility for reset, another said. Complete memory wipe authorized. Her chemical suppression will need to be reestablished at maximum dosage.

The words sent ice through Anders’s veins. They weren’t just capturing her—they were planning to erase her completely, to destroy the person who had begun to emerge from behind their programming.

To destroy his mate.

Something savage awoke in Anders, beyond tactical training or guardian protocols, and his inner wolf—the part of him that recognized Etta as his other half, his mate, his to protect at all costs—howled for blood.

But the calculating part of him, the guardian, knew that direct confrontation would only endanger her further. Five armed operatives, potentially with specialized antishifter equipment, against one wolf—even a trained one—were poor odds.

He needed to be smarter than that.

Moving swiftly, Anders reached the rear of the second SUV. As the men focused on getting Etta into the first vehicle, he attached a tiny tracking device to the undercarriage—a device he’d designed, undetectable by standard sweeps.

Then he slipped a second tracker into the wheel well of the lead vehicle, this one not just for tracking but with remote access capabilities. After all, these vehicles were probably equipped with advanced communications systems—systems he could potentially exploit.

A sharp cry from Etta dragged his attention back to the immediate situation. One of the men had injected her with something, and her body went limp as the drug took effect.

The mate bond fluctuated, weakening as her awareness dimmed. Anders felt it like a tearing inside his chest as their connection fragmented under the influence of whatever they’d given her.

No , he thought desperately, pouring strength through the bond. Stay with me. Fight it .

Whether she heard him or simply responded to the bond itself, Anders felt a faint vibration of recognition before her presence faded further, slipping away as the drug pulled her under.

The men loaded her unconscious form into the vehicle, securing her with restraints designed for enhanced strength. Anders watched, memorizing each face, each movement, building a mental profile of their tactics and equipment.

As the SUVs pulled away, Anders forced himself to remain hidden despite every instinct screaming at him to attack.

He waited until they turned the corner, then sprinted back to Conall. They’re going to erase her, he said, his voice flat with controlled rage. Wipe her memory completely. Rebuild her as their asset.

Conall’s expression hardened. We won’t let that happen.

No, Anders agreed. We won’t. I’ve got trackers on both vehicles.

They moved quickly back toward the command center, Anders checking the tracking signals on his phone. The vehicles were heading east, toward the interstate—away from town, away from pack territory.

We need to inform Malcolm, Conall said as they approached the Old Packhouse.

Anders nodded absently, his mind already racing through scenarios, contingency plans, extraction options. The guardian in him cataloged resources, assessed risks, anticipated obstacles.

But beneath that calculated planning, his wolf paced and snarled.

Mate in danger. Find. Protect. Save .

The command center was a flurry of activity when they arrived. Malcolm had already mobilized the pack’s response team, with Quinton coordinating communications and Sarah reviewing medical supplies in case they were needed.

Report, Malcolm said the moment Anders entered.

Two vehicles heading east on Route 40, Anders said, pulling up the tracking data on the main screen. Five operatives, all armed. They’ve sedated her with something designed to work on shifters—it disrupted our mate bond.

If Malcolm noticed the ease with which Anders now acknowledged the bond, he didn’t comment on it.

They mentioned a Chimera facility, Anders continued. And a ‘reset’ procedure including complete memory wipe and maximum chemical suppression.

Sarah gasped. They’re going to take everything from her again?

No, Anders said, the word like steel. They’re not.

He moved to the main console, fingers flying across the keyboard as he accessed his specialized programs. The screen filled with data streams as the tracking devices relayed not just location but vehicle diagnostics, communications frequencies, and electronic signatures.

They’re using a secure communications network, he said as the others gathered around. Military-grade encryption. But their vehicles’ systems have vulnerabilities I can exploit.

How do you know this? Quinton asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Anders didn’t look up from his work. Because I helped design some of the countermeasures while I was in Special Forces. I know where to look for weaknesses.

The room went silent at that revelation. Anders rarely spoke about his military service, and never in detail.

You were military intelligence, Malcolm said slowly. Not just Special Forces.

That’s classified, Anders replied automatically, then sighed. But yes. Special operations with a focus on counterintelligence and asset recovery.

Asset recovery, Sarah repeated. Like what they’re doing with Etta?

Anders’s jaw tightened. Not like this. Never like this.

His fingers continued their work, breaking through the vehicles’ security layers, accessing their onboard systems. External cameras, GPS navigation, internal communications—all feeding data to his screens.

There, he muttered as a grainy image appeared—the interior of the lead SUV, showing Etta unconscious on the rear seat, her wrists secured to a central bar, her head lolling against the window.

His wolf snarled at the sight, and Anders had to force himself to remain clinical, to focus on the technical aspects rather than the rage building inside him.

The vehicles are heading for a secured facility approximately two hours east, he reported, analyzing the navigation data now flowing into his system. Heavily guarded, isolated location. Likely a black site for whatever program is running these operations.

Can we intercept them before they reach it? Malcolm asked.

Anders shook his head. The transport team is trained for countersurveillance and evasion.

Direct interception would result in a tactical response that could endanger Etta.

He pulled up another screen, showing a satellite view of the highway ahead.

But we can track them to the facility, gather intelligence, and plan a proper extraction.

An extraction from a government black site? Quinton looked skeptical. That’s not just dangerous—it’s potentially suicidal.

I’ve done it before, Anders said quietly. He met Malcolm’s gaze directly. I know what I’m doing.

The alpha studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. What do you need?

A small team. Four at most. Quinton and Conall for their coordinated abilities. You for alpha strength if needed. Anders turned back to the screens. And time to plan properly. Rushing in will get us all killed or captured.

And what about Etta in the meantime? Sarah asked, her voice soft with concern.

They won’t begin the reset procedure immediately. They need to prepare the equipment, run preliminary tests. Anders forced his expression to remain neutral, and his voice remained steady through sheer force of will. We have a window. Not large, but enough.

How can you be so calm about this? Sarah demanded. She’s your mate.

Don’t mistake my focus for lack of concern, he said, his voice rumbling, low and dangerous. Every second, every breath I take, is dedicated to getting her back safely. But I will not let emotion cloud my judgment when her life depends on precision.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Anders took a deep breath, reining in his wolf’s instinctive aggression.

I apologize, he said more formally. That was inappropriately sharp.

Sarah shook her head. No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned your commitment.

I need to gather more intelligence on this Chimera facility, Anders said, turning back to the monitors. Security protocols, personnel rotations, access points.

Malcolm nodded. How long?

Twelve hours minimum. Twenty-four would be better.

She may not have twenty-four hours, Conall pointed out.

Anders’s hands stilled momentarily on the keyboard. I know. Believe me, I know.

He could still feel the mate bond, though it was muted now, distorted by whatever drugs they’d given her. Like a radio signal through static, he sensed Etta’s presence, a flicker of awareness across the distance separating them.

It was enough to turn his focus into a sharp, deadly point.

Into a weapon that all parts of him would combine to use.

The guardian would plan.

The soldier would execute.

The wolf would protect.

And nothing—not government agencies, not black ops teams, not military installations—would stand between him and his mate.

I only hope I can get to her in time .