Page 17 of Flint’s Fate (Silver Falls Shifters #3)

CHAPTER 16

FLINT

F lint crouched in the dense undergrowth just beyond the estate’s perimeter, every nerve in his body stretched tight. The wrought-iron fence surrounding McVey’s mansion wasn’t just for decoration—motion sensors lined the edges, and the patrols walking the grounds were shifters.

Predators.

Wes huffed beside him, adjusting his earpiece. "Sybil, tell me you’ve got eyes on this place."

The radio crackled. "I’m in," Sybil’s voice came through, crisp but tense. "Their security system is top-tier, but I can give you a five-minute window before they notice I’m in their feed. After that, you’re on your own."

Flint nodded, eyes scanning the grounds. “Five minutes is plenty.”

Jenna, crouched between them, let out a short laugh. “I swear, if I had a dollar for every time a guy overestimated his performance…”

Flint cut her a look. “You done?”

Her grin was wicked, but her eyes were sharp. Focused. "Not even close."

She was too calm. Too eager. And it pissed him off, because while she treated this like just another power play, his gut was screaming that this was a trap. He wanted to grab her, make her listen, make her stay close. But Jenna didn’t take orders. Not even from a man who wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.

He hated that he respected the hell out of that about her.

"Cut the flirting," Wes muttered. "Clock’s ticking."

Jenna didn’t hesitate. She darted out first, weaving through the shadows like she was born for it. Flint followed, sticking close, instincts on high alert. He could hear the hum of the security system, the faint buzz of electric currents running along the fence’s edges.

Sybil's voice came through again. "Now."

They slipped through the blind spot she’d created in the cameras, moving swiftly toward the mansion’s rear entrance. A security panel blinked red beside the door. Jenna pulled a device from her pocket and connected a wire. Flint held his breath, scanning the area as she worked to override the system.

Flint’s gaze snapped to Jenna. "Tell me again why you know how to bypass security locks?"

Jenna’s lips twitched. "Because I bore easily and have a bad habit of ignoring locked doors. You’d be surprised about how some elite business deals are put together."

The lock beeped, the light turning green.

They were in. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of polished wood, old money, and something that made Flint’s mountain lion stir uneasily. Jenna moved ahead, her boots silent against the marble floor. Flint stayed at her back, keeping a hand close to the knife at his hip.

"Where are we headed?" Wes whispered.

"McVey’s study," Jenna answered. "That’s where men like him keep their secrets."

Flint hated that she was right. The deeper they went, the more wrong this felt. McVey was prepared for something. Flint could feel it in his bones.

They reached the study, its massive oak doors slightly ajar. Flint pushed inside first, gun raised, scanning the room. Empty. But the scent of McVey still lingered, along with something older. Something that didn’t belong.

Jenna wasted no time, moving to the massive desk and yanking open drawers. She rifled through folders, scanning pages, tossing useless ones aside.

Wes moved to the bookshelves, running a hand along the bindings. “If he’s got a safe, it’s either behind the desk or...”

A click. One of the bookshelves swung open. Flint stiffened, every muscle locking as the hidden compartment revealed itself.

Jenna turned, her eyes gleaming. "Bingo."

Inside was a steel filing cabinet, its top drawer unlocked. Jenna yanked it open, flipping through file after file. Flint moved beside her, his gaze catching on one folder in particular.

Hartford.

He grabbed it, flipping it open. The blood in his veins ran cold.

Jenna inhaled sharply beside him as she scanned the papers. "They knew. They knew the whole damn time."

The files detailed McVey and Calloway’s real objective. It wasn’t just about Cold Creek Orchards. It was about what lay beneath it.

The Ghost Walkers had once been guardians of whatever was buried beneath Jenna’s land. But Calloway’s ancestors had betrayed them, stolen the knowledge, and tried to harness it for themselves—they had failed.

As they read they saw the reason for the failure. The only person who could truly unlock it was Jenna.

Flint clenched his fists. "This is why McVey needs you. Not just your land. You."

Jenna’s lips pressed into a thin line, but her hands trembled slightly as she flipped to the last page. A bloodline requirement. Only direct descendants could access the chamber’s full power.

Flint swore under his breath. "This isn’t just a land grab. This is a goddamn ritual. Some kind of weird ass sacrifice."

His fingers clenched around the file as Jenna scanned the pages with laser focus. The dim light of McVey’s study cast sharp shadows over her face, highlighting the controlled fury in her expression.

“This is it,” she murmured, flipping through the last few pages. “This is why they need me.”

Flint didn’t need to read the words again—he’d already memorized them in the span of seconds. Only a Hartford could fully unseal the chamber. It wasn’t the land McVey wanted. It was her.

“We need to burn those files,” Flint growled.

Jenna shot him a sharp glance. “And let this proof disappear? Hell no. This is leverage.”

He shook his head. “It’s a target painted right between your damn shoulder blades.”

Before she could argue, Sybil’s voice crackled in their earpieces. “We’ve got a problem. The estate’s entire security grid just activated.”

Flint’s muscles locked. “What?”

“I was in their system for less than four minutes, but something was buried deep. A hidden alert. McVey knows you’re inside.”

A rush of adrenaline shot through him.

Jenna cursed under her breath, stuffing the papers into her bag. “So much for a clean exit.”

“Get out now,” Sybil urged. “You’ve got about ninety seconds before armed guards flood the house.”

Wes was already moving, gun drawn. “Back entrance. It’s the fastest route.”

Flint grabbed Jenna’s wrist, dragging her toward the door. “Move.”

She yanked free, not missing a step. “I can run, you know.”

That wasn’t the point. He needed to feel her close. Needed to know she was still breathing. If McVey got his hands on her, there’d be no getting her back.

They sprinted down the hall, boots silent against the thick carpet. Flint’s ears picked up the sound of approaching guards—four, maybe five, closing in fast. He slowed as they neared the service entrance, gesturing for Wes to take point.

Jenna pushed past him, pressed flat against the wall. She peeked around the corner before jerking back, eyes flashing. “Two guards. Armed.”

“Lethal force?” Wes asked.

Flint nodded. “No time for clean kills. Just drop them fast.”

Jenna shifted her stance, relaxing her shoulders. “I’ve got the one on the right.”

Before he could argue, she moved, silent and precise. The guard barely had time to register her presence before she drove her fist into his throat, cutting off his air. As he stumbled back, she swept his legs out from under him, straddling his chest and slamming the butt of his own rifle into his temple. He went limp.

The second guard whirled, gun raised… Flint was already on him. He snapped the man’s wrist, sending his weapon clattering to the floor. The guard let out a strangled yelp before Flint drove a fist into his gut, knocking the air from his lungs. He caught him by the collar, twisted—and broke his neck.

Silence.

Jenna rose to her feet, shaking out her hands. “Damn. You could’ve let me have a little fun.”

Flint shot her a look. “This isn’t a game, Hartford.”

Her expression turned unreadable, but before she could reply, Sybil’s voice cut in.

“Shit! Incoming—west corridor!”

Flint’s head snapped toward the hallway. A squad of men—heavily armed, moving like professionals—poured into the corridor.

“Run,” he barked.

Wes didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted through the service door, Jenna right behind him. Flint followed, slamming the exit shut behind them. The yard was wide open. Flint hated open spaces. No cover, no angles, nowhere to funnel an attack. McVey’s men were already in pursuit.

“SUV is on the east side,” Sybil panted through the comms. “But they’ll cut you off before you make it.”

Flint’s mind worked fast. The perimeter fence was straight ahead, leading into the dense tree line.

“Forget the vehicle,” he ordered. “Woods. Now.”

Jenna didn’t hesitate. Neither did Wes. They sprinted toward the trees, feet pounding against the grass. Gunfire erupted behind them. Flint turned mid-stride, firing a few rounds over his shoulder to slow their pursuers. One of McVey’s men dropped, another staggered.

Not enough. They were gaining.

Jenna reached the fence first. She leapt, caught the top bar, and flipped over with ridiculous ease. Flint nearly swore at the flash of satisfaction in her eyes as she landed. Wes climbed next, dropping over just as bullets began to ping off the fence beside him.

Flint turned, covering them. Pain seared through his side. Shit. He stumbled, catching himself against the cold metal.

“Flint!” Jenna’s voice cut through the chaos.

He gritted his teeth. The bullet had grazed him, nothing deep, nothing fatal. Didn’t matter. He couldn’t slow down. He vaulted the fence and landed in a crouch. Jenna was already at his side, her hands quick and firm as she checked him over.

"Through-and-through," she muttered. "You’ll live."

"I wasn’t worried."

"Well, I was."

“Aww, that’s sweet,” teased Wes. “She likes you Flint. She really, really likes you.”

“Shut up and move,” barked Sybil.

They took off into the forest, darting between trees, ducking branches. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, but all Flint could focus on was the sound of pursuit behind them.

McVey’s men were still following. Closing in.

"Sybil," Jenna gritted out. "Tell me you’ve got an extraction plan."

The radio crackled. "Yeah. It’s called run faster."

Wes let out a breathless laugh. "Great. Love that plan."

The terrain turned rougher, roots snaking across the ground, forcing them to slow just enough…

Flint’s gut twisted. He turned just as another squad cut in from the side, boxing them in.

"Shit," Jenna muttered.

Flint shoved her behind him, chest heaving, his lion slamming against his skin. McVey’s men advanced, their leader stepping forward.

"Flint Mercer." The man’s voice was amused. "Didn’t think we’d let you slip away, did you?"

Flint’s lips curled back, his hands flexing. "Big mistake coming at me head-on."

The leader smirked. "Who said we were after you?"

Flint’s stomach dropped. He turned—too late. Jenna was already moving, her body twisting as she fought off the two men who grabbed her. Flint lunged. A heavy blow slammed into the back of his skull.

Darkness rushed up to meet him. The last thing he heard was Jenna’s snarl of fury, and then nothing.

Flint’s pulse thundered in his ears as he pushed off the damp earth, shaking off the momentary daze from the blow to his skull. His lion clawed at the surface, demanding he tear through every single bastard who’d dared lay hands on Jenna, but she wasn’t beside him.

His breath turned sharp as he scanned the trees. Jenna was gone. A guttural growl ripped through his throat. The men who had surrounded them were still advancing, their weapons drawn, but Flint didn’t give a damn about them anymore. His focus was singular—find Jenna.

A familiar scent hit him just before the attack came.

The traitor moved fast, but Flint was faster. He ducked the first strike and lashed out, catching the bastard’s wrist before it could connect again. His head snapped toward the face of his attacker, and rage burned through him like wildfire.

Eddie Hayes. One of Silver Falls’ own. A local, one of Beck’s deputies. It seemed the bastard was now working for McVey.

“You’re making a mistake,” Eddie panted, his fingers tightening on the knife he’d failed to sink into Flint’s ribs.

Flint didn’t answer. Instead, he ripped the blade from Eddie’s grip, twisting the man’s arm behind his back with a savage yank. Eddie snarled in pain, his knee jerking up in an attempt to break free, but Flint slammed him to the ground with brutal efficiency.

“You were one of us,” Flint bit out, his voice dangerously low.

Eddie spat blood onto the dirt. “I was never one of you.”

Wrong answer. Flint flipped him over, fisting the front of his shirt and hauling him up so they were nose to nose. His mountain lion roared inside him, demanding vengeance. Demanding blood. He bared his teeth. “McVey paying you in cash, or just selling you the lie that you’ll get a cut of what’s buried under that orchard?”

Eddie laughed, the sound hoarse, desperate. “You’re too late, Mercer. You can’t stop this. We have her.”

The words landed like a blade to the chest. Flint’s body went tight, his grip crushing Eddie’s collarbone. The bastard didn’t even wince.

It was in that moment, Flint felt his mountain lion wrest control, exploding forward, a force of pure instinct and fury. The world tilted as his body was engulfed in a furious maelstrom as Flint shifted, muscle and sinew giving way to the powerful form of his beast. The forest blurred, color sharpening into piercing clarity as his vision turned predatory.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, the first flicker of real fear flashing across his face. He should be afraid. Flint’s claws sliced across the traitor’s chest, ripping through fabric and flesh. Eddie’s howl of pain sent shifters scattering, their scents laced with adrenaline and sheer terror. He pinned the bastard down, jaws snapping inches from Eddie’s throat. One bite. One well-placed tear of muscle and bone, and Eddie would cease to exist.

But Jenna’s voice cut through the haze. “Flint! Stop!”

He froze. She wasn’t here, wasn’t close, but his instincts screamed at him to listen, anyway.

Jenna wouldn’t want this.

Information. They needed information. Not just blood.

Flint’s lion fought him every step as he forced himself back into control. He pulled away from Eddie, his claws still pressing deep enough into the man’s chest to keep him from getting any ideas about running.

“Take it easy, brother. I’ve got him covered,” said Wes, throwing him the pack. “Shift and get dressed.”

Once more a maelstrom of thunder, lightning and color swirled all around him as he resumed control of his dual nature and forced his mountain lion back into the recesses of his mind.

Pulling on his clothes, he looked at Eddie. “You’ve got one chance,” Flint warned, voice thick from the change. “Tell me where they took her.”

Eddie coughed, blood spattering his lips. “Too late. You’ll never get to her in time.”

Flint’s vision threatened to darken again, but before he could force another word out of the bastard, gunfire erupted from deeper in the trees.

Jenna.

His head snapped toward the sound, and for the first time since the ambush, he spotted her through the chaos. She was fighting like hell, her movements razor-sharp as she took down two of McVey’s men. But more were closing in fast, their weapons drawn, surrounding her like wolves circling prey.

Flint’s chest went tight. He lunged, barreling forward?—

A brutal force slammed into his ribs, knocking him off course.

Another one of McVey’s shifters, bigger than the last, driving him back just as Jenna disappeared behind a wall of bodies. Flint didn’t feel the pain, didn’t register the hit. His lion raged within. He swung hard, tearing through the man’s defenses, but more were coming. Too many. They were stalling him.

They weren’t trying to kill him. They were keeping him from her. His pulse turned lethal.

He tore through the first attacker, sending him flying into a tree. Another came at him from the left—Flint snapped his elbow into the bastard’s ribs, the sickening crunch of bone barely registering before he turned toward Jenna’s last known position.

But she was gone. The forest had swallowed them whole, the scent of McVey’s men the only thing left in her wake.

He let out a roar that sent every enemy within ten feet scrambling back, but it didn’t matter. Jenna was in their hands now.

Wes’ hand rested on his shoulder. “We’ll get her back but we need to regroup. My guess is they need her alive, at least until they get to that door. We get her back or we burn that damn orchard to the ground to get her back.”