Page 7 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

L ARISSA ARRIVED THE NEXT morning at the clearing in the Lincoln National Forest. The air was crisp and clean, filled with the scents of earth, resin, and wild things.

She inhaled deeply, her heightened senses cataloging every nuance of her surroundings.

The designated starting point for the hunt was a natural clearing at the edge of pack territory, ringed by pinyon pines and hardy junipers.

Larissa immediately began assessing the terrain, plotting potential routes and strategies.

Around her, other pack members gathered. The air thrummed with excitement. Larissa caught sight of the twins, Conall and Quinton, chatting with Anders, who stood off to one side.

And then there was Malcolm.

He stood across the clearing, his tall frame unmistakable even at a distance. A tiny flutter twisted in her stomach—and she immediately tried to quash it.

Nick’s voice cut through the murmur of conversation, drawing everyone’s attention. “Let’s go over the rules for this challenge.”

Larissa listened intently as Nick explained the parameters of the hunt. They were to track and capture a specific prey—one of the red foxes common to the area. Points would be awarded for speed, strategy, and minimal disruption to the forest ecosystem.

“Remember,” Nick said, “this isn’t just about raw strength or speed. It’s about leadership, about using your skills and your strengths effectively. The rest of the pack will be out—hunting but watching to see how you two do as well.”

As Nick spoke, Larissa’s gaze met Malcolm’s across the clearing. A spark passed between them, and Malcolm’s lips quirked in a small, confident smile that sent an unexpected warmth through Larissa’s chest.

Get it together , she thought fiercely. He’s your rival, not your…

She didn’t want to finish the thought, but the final word flickered through her brain anyway: mate .

“Prepare to shift,” Nick concluded. “The hunt begins in five minutes.”

A ripple of movement went through the group as the wolf shifters began to prepare for the shift.

Larissa moved to a relatively secluded spot near the edge of the clearing, her hands going to the buttons of her shirt.

As she began to undress, Larissa was struck by an unexpected wave of self-consciousness.

She had shifted countless times before, never giving a second thought to the brief instant of nudity it required.

But now, with Malcolm nearby, that nudity left her exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her lack of clothing.

Unable to stop herself, Larissa glanced across the clearing. Her breath caught as Malcolm, his back to her, pulled his shirt over his head. Sunlight and shadows played across the strong planes of his back, highlighting the ripple of muscles beneath his skin.

Larissa quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks burning. But not before Malcolm turned, catching her looking.

She glanced up again, and their eyes met for a charged moment—one that made her heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the impending hunt.

Flustered, Larissa quickly finished undressing. She closed her eyes, reaching for that place deep inside where her wolf resided, waiting for her muscles to tighten, to twist. For her bones to crack and re-form in a flash of pain that disappeared almost instantly.

The change rippled through her, a surge of power that never failed to exhilarate her.

Soon, Larissa stood on four paws, her senses exploding with new information.

The forest came alive around her in a way her human form could never fully appreciate. She could smell the individual scents of her packmates, feel the vibrations of the earth beneath her paws.

She shook out her coat, relishing the strength and freedom that came with her wolf form.

Larissa knew she was fast and agile, built for both speed and endurance.

Almost against her will, Larissa’s gaze was again drawn to Malcolm.

He’d also finished shifting. His wolf form was impressive—large and powerfully built, with a coat of deep charcoal gray.

He radiated strength and confidence, every inch the alpha he aspired to be.

His mere presence tugged at Larissa in a way that went beyond just physical attraction.

There was something about him in this form that called to her on a primal level.

Before she could dwell on that dangerous thought, Nick’s human voice cut through the clearing. “Hunters, to your marks!”

Larissa padded to the starting line, her mind already racing with potential strategies. She knew these woods well, had hunted in them her entire life. And of course, she’d also studied maps and terrain reports extensively.

“Begin!”

At Nick’s signal, Larissa exploded into motion. She raced into the forest, her paws eating up the ground in long, powerful strides.

The wolf part of her exulted in the sheer joy of the run—the wind in her fur, the earth beneath her feet, the sounds and smells that made up the forest.

But the human part of her mind remained alert, analyzing every input. She caught the scent of their prey almost immediately—a sharp, musky odor that stood out from the general forest smells.

Larissa began to plot an intercept course, using her knowledge of the terrain to predict where the fox might be heading.

As she ran, Larissa also kept track of her packmates. She heard them crashing through the underbrush, smelled their excitement.

But one scent stood out above all others—Malcolm’s.

Somehow, she always seemed to know exactly where he was, as if some part of her was attuned specifically to him.

That’s good , she tried to convince herself. He can’t pull any tricks on me if I always know where he is.

Larissa pushed herself harder, determined to outpace and outthink her rival. She used the natural features of the landscape to her advantage, taking shortcuts over fallen logs and through dense thickets that other, bigger wolves— like Malcolm —might avoid.

As she burst into a small glade, Larissa skidded to a stop.

Dammit!

Malcolm was already there, having apparently had the same idea she had.

How did I end up losing track of him, after all?

They regarded each other, neither willing to back down.

In their wolf forms, communication was more instinct than language, a complex interplay of body language and intent.

Then a sense of connection, a silent understanding, passed between them.

Without any conscious deliberation, they fell into a coordinated hunt pattern, working together to drive the fox toward a natural barrier formed by a steep ravine.

Moving in perfect synchronization, Larissa and Malcolm herded their prey.

There was something exhilarating about working with Malcolm like this, as if the way their strengths complemented each other was natural, almost inevitable.

As they closed in on the fox, however, their brief alliance dissolved. The competitive spirit that had defined their relationship for so long reasserted itself. Larissa put on a burst of speed, determined to make the final capture.

But Malcolm was just a fraction faster. In a blur of gray fur, he overtook Larissa and pounced on the fox. With a single shake of his head, the fox’s neck snapped.

In seconds, the hunt was over.

Larissa skidded to a stop.

She had lost, yes, but it had been close. And she couldn’t deny the skill Malcolm had displayed.

As the adrenaline of the hunt faded, Larissa became aware of a new tension in the air.

She and Malcolm stood facing each other, both still in wolf form, their breaths coming in quick pants. A charge sparked between them as she stared directly into Malcolm’s eyes.

It was Malcolm who broke the spell, shaking his head and turning to retrieve the limp body of the fox.

Larissa turned away, her mind whirling with conflicting emotions. Disappointment at losing the challenge warred with respect for Malcolm’s abilities—and a growing attraction she couldn’t deny.

What the hell am I thinking? I can’t be attracted to Malcolm, of all people!

Perhaps she could run off this strange energy that had been building between her and Malcolm. Because it was just a fluke. An oddity. The result of a lifetime of competition culminating in this most important of competitions.

Her attraction was just a side effect of all that competitive energy.

It had nothing to do with Malcolm himself.

Right?

Without a sound, Larissa once again dove into the forest, determined to outrun whatever this was.

But no matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t outpace her own thoughts.

Or the feelings crashing through her.

Perhaps, though, she’d be able to ignore them.

I can sure as hell try, at least.