Page 1 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

H ANNAH L YTTLE PRESSED HERSELF against the rough surface of a small rock outcropping atop Sunburst Mesa.

The acrid smell of dust and blood filled her nostrils, mingling with the sharp tang of fear permeating the air around her. She tasted it on her tongue, metallic and bitter, as she tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.

The sounds of battle raged around her, a discordant clashing of snarls, growls, and the sickening thuds of bodies colliding.

She flinched as a particularly loud howl pierced the air, followed by a yelp of pain. The ground beneath her trembled with the force of the fight, and she dug her fingers into the sandy soil, seeking any stability in the chaos.

Her blonde hair hung in sweaty tangles around her face. She brushed it back with a shaking hand, her eyes wide with terror as she peered around the edge of her hiding place.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Nick Reagan, the prodigal son returned, stood tall, his muscular form taut, his long sandy hair wild and matted with blood and dirt.

This was not the same man who had left Sunburst all those years ago. This Nick was a warrior, a force of nature unleashed.

And he was facing off against Vincent Foley, the Sunburst Pack’s alpha.

Despite her fear, Hannah assessed the positions of the other pack members, her instincts as Vincent’s self-appointed spy kicking in even now.

To her left, she spotted Malcolm Crawford, his enormous, powerful form a blur of motion as he engaged two of Vincent’s loyal enforcers.

“Damn him,” Hannah muttered under her breath, remembering the times she’d reported Malcolm’s actions to Vincent. Now, seeing him fighting with such ferocity, she wondered if she had underestimated him all along.

Malcolm ducked under a swipe from one of the enforcers, using the momentum to drive his shoulder into the other’s midsection. The sickening crunch of bones breaking reached Hannah, and she winced.

A flash of movement to her right caught Hannah’s attention, and she turned to find Larissa Ortega engaged in her own battle.

Unlike Malcolm’s brute-force approach, Larissa moved with a calculated precision that was almost beautiful to watch. Her dark hair whipped around her face as she dodged and wove, always one step ahead of her opponents.

“Damn,” Hannah breathed out, unwillingly impressed. She’d always instinctively viewed the other woman as a threat, not just to Vincent’s rule but to Hannah’s own position within the pack. Now, watching Larissa take down a wolf nearly twice her size with a well-placed strike, Hannah understood why.

As she gazed around the mesa, desperately searching for a route out, a way to escape the meeting place that had become a battlefield, Hannah realized Victor’s enemies had been strategically placed to take out the alpha’s protective forces.

Anders Hamilton, his usually calm demeanor replaced by a cold efficiency, moved through the battlefield.

He wasn’t flashy like Malcolm or precise like Larissa, but there was a steadiness to his actions as he bolstered those around him, calling out warnings to his allies, his voice audible even over the din of battle.

Not far from Anders, the twins Conall and Quinton Stewart fought back-to-back, their movements so synchronized it was as if they shared one mind.

Hannah had always found their closeness unnerving, but now she realized it gave them an advantage in battle.

They covered each other’s blind spots seamlessly, creating a whirlwind of claws and fangs that their opponents struggled to penetrate.

At the edge of the clearing, Ryker, one of Nick’s allies from the Moonstone Pack, stood locked in combat with Gregory.

Hannah’s throat constricted as Gregory struggled against the larger wolf. Gregory had always seemed invincible, Vincent’s unshakable right hand. But now, facing Ryker’s raw power, he looked…vulnerable.

“Come on, Gregory,” Hannah whispered, her nails digging into the rock as she watched the fight unfold. As if hearing her near-silent plea, Gregory managed to slip out of Ryker’s grasp, using his smaller size to his advantage as he darted away.

Hannah let out a breath, relief washing over her. At least one piece of her world was still intact.

Her relief was short-lived, however. Hannah’s stomach churned as she realized that, despite the efforts of his supporters, Vincent was losing ground. The tide of the battle was turning, and not in their favor.

The rebels were winning. Malcolm’s strength, Larissa’s skill, Anders’s strategy, the twins’ teamwork—all of it was coming together to overwhelm Vincent’s forces. And at the center of it all was Nick, inexorably pushing Vincent back, step by step.

It’s over , Hannah realized. We’ve lost .

Her gaze flicked to Vincent, the alpha she had pledged her loyalty to, the one she had believed would lead them to greatness. Now, as he squared off against Nick, doubt flickered through her.

Vincent’s lupine face contorted in rage. The two wolves circled each other, their movements fluid and predatory.

In a blur of motion too fast for Hannah’s human eyes to follow, Nick and Vincent clashed. The sound of their collision echoed across the battlefield.

Hannah winced as blood sprayed—she couldn’t tell whose it was.

She’d thought aligning herself with Vincent would secure her future, elevate her status within the pack.

Protect her.

Now, as she watched him struggle against Nick, the foundations of her carefully laid plans crumbled beneath her.

Nick was relentless, each of his attacks pushing Vincent back, forcing the alpha to defend rather than attack. And in Vincent’s expression, Hannah saw something she’d never witnessed before: fear.

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Vincent was going to lose. And if he lost, what would become of her?

Hannah’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as the implications raced through her mind. She had betrayed the rebels, spied on them for Vincent.

If they won, if Nick took control…

She whimpered, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound.

What have I done?

Everywhere she looked, she saw only chaos. Wolves locked in combat, the air thick with fur and blood. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Nick’s jaws closed around Vincent’s throat. Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to this single, defining instant.

With a savage twist, Nick ended it.

Vincent’s body went limp, falling to the ground with a finality that echoed across the battlefield. Everything seemed to freeze, the fighting pausing as the reality of what had just occurred sank in.

Then, as if a dam had broken, a chorus of howls rose into the air.

Hannah watched in horror as members of the pack descended upon Vincent’s body, tearing into it with a ferocity that made her stomach heave.

She turned away, unable to bear the sight of the alpha she had once revered being reduced to nothing more than meat.

“This can’t be real,” Hannah breathed out, squeezing her eyes shut. “This has to be a nightmare. Wake up, Hannah. Wake up!”

But when she opened her eyes, the scene remained unchanged. Vincent was dead, and with him died all Hannah’s plans to rise in the pack hierarchy. Panic rose within her, threatening to overwhelm her completely.

What was she going to do now? She had no allies among the rebels.

Her association with Vincent would be enough to condemn her.

Would they kill her too? Or worse, exile her?

The thought of being forced out of the pack, left to fend for herself in a world that held little love for lone wolves, sent a fresh wave of terror through her.

Hannah’s breath came in short, sharp gasps as she tried to think. She needed a plan, needed to find a way out of this mess. But the enormity of her situation overwhelmed her sluggish mind.

A movement at the edge of her vision caught her attention. Hannah’s head snapped up, her body tensing in anticipation of discovery.

But it wasn’t a rebel wolf shifter.

It was Gregory Torrance.

Gregory, Vincent’s right-hand man, stood not far from where Vincent had fallen. His face was a mask of shock and disbelief as he stared at the remains of his alpha, his expression morphing from disbelief to fear to determination.

With a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, Gregory began to edge away from the main body of the fight.

Like Hannah, he’d opted to remain in his human form—a sign that he had no interest in joining the battle.

In that moment, a plan began to form in Hannah’s mind. Gregory had been even closer to Vincent than she had been. If anyone was in as precarious a position as her, it was him. And if he was trying to slip away…

That’s it. That’s my way out.

As she moved, Hannah’s mind raced. Gregory was smart, resourceful. He had to have a plan, some way to escape the fallout of Vincent’s defeat. If she could just catch up to him, convince him to take her along…

It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

She paused behind another rock formation, taking some time to catch her breath and survey the area.

The fighting had largely died down now, the rebels clearly victorious.

Nick stood tall amid a group of his supporters, his presence commanding even from a distance.

She glanced at the bodies of her packmates—at the bodies of her alpha and his mate.

Resentment toward Nick, toward Sarah Sanchez and all the others who had brought about this change, left her trembling.

Damn them all.

But she couldn’t afford to dwell on her anger.

Pushing her feelings aside, Hannah focused once more on Gregory. He had nearly reached the edge of the mesa now.

Hannah knew she had to move fast. If she lost sight of Gregory now, she might never find him again. And then where would she be? Locked up in a cage on Nick’s orders, no doubt. Or worse.

No. She wouldn’t surrender.

Taking a deep breath, Hannah prepared herself for the final dash. It would leave her exposed, vulnerable to detection. But it was a risk she had to take. She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t face the judgment of the pack. This was her only chance.

With one last glance to ensure the coast was clear, Hannah sprinted from her hiding place. Her feet pounded against the hard-packed earth, kicking up small clouds of dust with each step.

Gregory was so close now. Just a few more yards…

“Gregory!” Hannah called out, her voice hoarse and breathless. “Wait!”

He stiffened, and his head began to turn. For a heart-stopping instant, Hannah thought he might run, might leave her behind to face the pack’s wrath alone. But then he paused, waiting for her to catch up.

Hannah nearly sobbed with relief as she reached him.

Gregory’s gaze settled on her, wary and calculating. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m coming with you,” Hannah said, trying to fill her voice with a confidence she didn’t feel. “We both know we can’t stay here. Not after…everything.”

After an eternity, Gregory gave a short nod. “Fine,” he said. “But we need to move. Now.”

As they turned to leave, Hannah cast one last glance back at the battlefield. The place that had been her home, the pack that had been her family—all of it was lost to her now.

She pushed any sorrow aside.

“Where are we going?” she asked Gregory as they began to move, picking their way carefully through the rocky terrain.

“Away,” he replied tersely. “As far as we can get.” Gregory was silent for a long moment, then he said, “And when the time is right, we come back stronger.”

Hannah trembled at his words. Come back? The thought both terrified and exhilarated her. Could they do that? Could they find a way to reclaim what they had lost?

As if sensing her thoughts, Gregory turned to her. “Vincent may be gone,” he said, “but his plans for the pack don’t have to die with him.”

Hannah nodded slowly, feeling a spark of her old ambition reigniting within her.

“I’m with you,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been all night.

Gregory’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Good,” he said. “We have some planning to do.”

Swallowing down the spike of anxiety his words sent through her, Hannah simply nodded.

And then she fell into place beside him.