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CHAPTER 4

G ideon

H er scent still flourishes in my nostrils.

It’s everything I’ve craved since The Tangle swallowed my family whole.

Turned us into the something… else .

“Gideon, stop, I don’t understand!” my brother Jace shouts at me through our shared mental link. “ You’re acting crazy like you’ve gone feral!”

I stop abruptly and spin around, shifting from wolf to man in a matter of seconds.

“I haven’t gone feral!” I roar. “She’s different. She’s not like other humans.”

Jace stops in front of me, shifting like I did. Our three brothers catch up, shifting as they skid to a stop. Jace’s purple-gold eyes flicker, like he wants to challenge everything I’m saying. Knox moves to the side in case he needs to step between us. He’s had to do that before, when things have gotten tense.

“You saw what was protecting that camp, right? And I’m not talking about the crazy asshole with a rifle!” Jace fires back. “The last time we fought a Gen-Lion, we lost three of our brothers!”

“That’s why we’re not fighting him, Jace,” I growl, leaning closer. “But we will if we have to.”

“You’re not our leader, Gideon,” my brother Knox says, putting a hand on Jace’s chest. “We agreed after Silas died. No more leaders.”

I stare at my brothers. I wish there was a way to explain it. Our youngest brother Vance looks like he wants to say something, but he shakes his head and nudges a plant with his toe. Caleb is stoic and silent, which isn’t unusual for him. He doesn’t say much these days. Silas’s death hit him harder than the rest of us. We all feel our eldest brother’s absence, but Caleb doesn’t just feel it. He carries it.

“You’ll sense it soon enough.” I start shifting. “You all will.”

I continue on, letting them make their own decision about following me. Howls echo on my heels. Then paws. Then silence. The silence of a pack traveling in unison.

We left them last night after the crazy asshole—Carl, they called him—started shooting rounds into the darkness. It’s morning now, so they should be moving. I’m sure they’re headed to The Outpost. They look like slavers, and if they’re paying a Gen-Lion to stand guard, there’s only one cargo worth that much in The Tangle.

Women.

My brothers and I don’t usually hunt this far north. We like to stay away from Haven North. Too many bad memories. But we see slavers passing through The Tangle fairly often. We usually give them their berth. We don’t interfere in human affairs anymore.

But I got close enough to catch the scent of something intoxicating. Something primal and raw, that echoes in my soul. I don’t know why my brothers can’t sense it yet, but they will. Soon. Maybe it hit me first because I’m the oldest. The oldest one left, at least. If Silas was still around, I might be questioning his sanity like Jace is questioning mine.

I shift into my human form as I get close to the campsite. The slavers and their cargo are already gone. That’s okay. We’ll catch up to them easily. I go straight to the spot where the cart stayed through the night and inhale what is left of her sweet scent. Every drop of it from the air. It’s too delicious to waste.

“You’re acting like a fucking teenager,” Jace grumbles, looking around the campsite. “There’s nothing here. Let’s go.”

“There’s something,” Vance says, motioning to the foliage at the edge of the campsite where the cart was. “I thought I saw it last night, but I wasn’t sure. This is spikeshade. All around here. It’s naturally aggressive.” Vance takes a step back when a vine slithers toward him. “Especially toward humans.”

Vance cares more about the plants in The Tangle than anything else except the pack and our next meal. He’s studied the wildlife extensively since we started calling this place home. Named most of it, too.

“Try talking to it, like you did the treant that was throwing pinecone grenades at us,” Knox jokes. “Ask it if it has any friends that can stop a Gen-Lion.”

“It’s no danger to us. You know that,” Vance sighs. “But it should have eaten them alive last night. Well, I assume the Gen-Lion would have kept it from killing them all, but…”

“There’s something about her,” I rasp, no longer able to find her fresh scent in the air. “Let’s continue on.”

It’s not just a scent I’m following. It’s a pull. A need that burns inside me. Not a human need—most of those vanished the first time I shifted. This is deeper. Wilder. A hunger that coils around every bone. The need to claim. To rut. To mark. To breed .

Once we shift and start making our way through The Tangle, I’m in the lead again. Jace is on my heels. Caleb and Vance are behind him. Knox brings up the rear. I’m not sure if it’s wolf instincts or the training we received when we were soldiers that causes us to travel like this. It’s hard to tell the difference these days.

Moving through The Tangle is simple for us. We don’t need the old highway that cuts through the underbrush. We don’t even need a trail. Our sense of direction is better than the GPS we used to rely on during the Great War.

But The Tangle is still full of danger. We were genetically engineered to be the next class of hybrid soldiers. Ironic, since the Class-1 hybrids hadn’t even seen the battlefield yet. Those hybrids carried their genetic enhancements on the outside, like the Gen-Lion traveling with the slavers. Our enhancements were meant to be hidden. We could pass as regular humans—exactly what a government that didn’t want the rest of the world to know what it was creating needed.

“We could have overtaken them hours ago,” Jace says through our mental link. “Why do you keep slowing down? Are we just stalking them now?”

This is something that can’t be rushed. She doesn’t just belong to me—she belongs to all of us. I can sense it, even if they can’t. It goes against everything the scientists said when they were trying to engineer mates for us, but I don’t think we’re the same as we were back then. Something changed inside of us after the solar flare. It quelled our humanity and gave dominion to the call of the wild.

“Are you in a hurry to fight a Gen-Lion now?” I reply, continuing on.

Jace doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. None of us want a fight. We craved it in our youth when we were hot-blooded young soldiers, ready to defend our country—or impose our country’s will on others, depending on your perspective. But that was a long time ago. We’ve seen the horrors of war. The pain of unnecessary violence. Felt the loss that came with every grave we dug for our brothers and sisters who no longer run with the pack.

I can sense Caleb conversing with Knox, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s like static playing in the background. That’s how it normally is when you’re not included in the conversation. My brothers and I all share a mental link when we’re close like this, but only when we’re wolves. Caleb listens but rarely responds unless he’s talking to Knox. Vance… Vance communicates with The Tangle itself more than us. He claims it answers sometimes, but I’ve never seen proof of it.

“It’s getting dark. They’ll be stopping soon,” Jace transmits to us all. “We should find a place to stop for the night.”

“Agreed,” I reply, stopping by a tree. “We’re not close enough for the Gen-Lion to get our scent like last night . ”

“If we’re stopping, we’re hunting,” Knox growls as he shifts from wolf to man. “We haven’t had a bite all fucking day.”

I look around, feeling the grumble in my gut as I shift. “Take Caleb and Vance. Go east, so you stay out of the wind. We just need food for tonight, so find easy prey.”

“We don’t need to be ordered around like soldiers, Gideon,” Knox snarls. “We know how to hunt without being detected.”

Knox shifts back into his wolf form and cuts east with Caleb and Vance trailing behind him. Jace shifts and helps me prepare a small campsite, ensuring it is clear of anything Vance would be fascinated by. The last thing we need is for him to discover a new plant species. Nothing will pull his attention away from that.

“You’re starting to sound a lot like Silas,” Jace says. “You used to ask our opinion about everything, instead of telling us what to do.”

“I’m not doing it intentionally,” I mutter, kneeling by a tree and watching the slavers’ camp below our position.

“Silas blamed everything on instincts, too,” Jace reminds me, as if I’ve forgotten. “Especially his mistakes. I’m sure he’d have blamed the one that got him killed on that too, if he hadn’t been choking on his own blood in his final moments.”

“Stop,” I growl. “I get it.”

This is worse than an instinct. This is… hope. Hope that our pack could grow, instead of shrink. Hope that nature has more for us than suffering and loss. We had a lot of hope after the wolves inside us roared to life in the wake of the solar flare. First the humans crushed our hope by rejecting us because we were different. Then we found out that The Tangle wanted what was left.

And what a price we paid. Our sisters were taken by slavers and caged. Beaten into submission, so their human owners could defile them.

We didn’t have harmony with our wolves back then. Shifting was painful and exhausting. We were vulnerable and weak after we did it, regardless of what form we were in. Rescuing them cost more lives than we saved, and they were never the same after experiencing that brand of cruelty. Not in mind. Not in spirit. It was only a matter a time before they turned feral and were lost to The Tangle.

“Two hybrids are closing in on the slavers,” Jace reports, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“What are they?” I ask, moving closer to him.

“Minotaur.” Jace raises his head and inhales. “You can’t get their scent? I can smell their last meal on their breath.”

I try, even though it’s useless. There’s only one scent in the air that draws my attention. Her. I don’t know what she is, exactly. Human? Something different? Not knowing is almost as maddening as the pull I feel toward her.

“The Gen-Lion can handle a couple of Gen-Cows,” I mutter. “Even if they are Minotaurs.”

After the flare, the hybrids broke free from the facilities where they were made. The ones that weren’t already on the battlefield, at least. They found strength in numbers, but once The Tangle began to emerge, and the heat storms raged, those larger groups splintered into packs, prides, herds, and swarms, depending on the mutation in their blood. All driven by instincts their human side didn’t understand.

There are no true Gen-Cows left. Mating was never a challenge for them. One Gen-Bull could breed an entire herd, and their numbers grew fast. Too fast. They became a food source, even for humans who had begun to form tribes again. Maybe it was their need for survival that caused the third and fourth generation of their offspring to emerge as something different—fierce, brutal warriors with hooves and horns, like the beasts of legend. They became predators, instead of prey. Natural-born children of hybrids are usually stronger and faster, but this was a complete evolution.

“They’ve got armor and weapons,” Jace says. “Still no match for a Gen-Lion, but they’ll put up a fight. Could be dangerous for her.”

“Then we’ll intercept them,” I growl, calling my wolf and breaking into a sprint before the transformation is complete.

“You’re lucky I hate Minotaurs,” Jace transmits as he closes in on me. “This isn’t for her.”

It is. He just doesn’t know it yet. He’s succumbing to an instinct he doesn’t understand. Following me into a battle we don’t need to fight. But we have to. I’d fight them alone if it meant keeping her safe, and while that wouldn’t be suicide, I’d certainly walk away with a few more scars.

“Take them by surprise,” I communicate as we close in on the hooved beasts. “They’re so hungry the only thing they smell is human meat.”

Human meat isn’t something we’re fond of, but some hybrids prefer it. Especially when they’re hungry.

Jace circles and I take the other side. A basic pincer attack, just like we learned in the military. Jace’s signal is my roar as I burst out of the underbrush in front of our targets. That draws the attention of both Minotaurs. One starts toward me, the other gets Jace’s fangs in the side of his neck before he realizes I’m not a lone wolf today. The Minotaur thrashes and spins, but it’s a mortal wound. Blood loss will do the rest. He’s already on his knees when Jace lets go of his neck.

The other Minotaur snorts and lets out an anguished wail as his comrade falls. Brother? Best friend? Possibly even a lover. The human side of me might have felt compassion for him, once upon a time. He’s wearing hard leather armor. My guess is he carved it from a Gen-Gator, based on the texture. But more concerning than his attire is the metal sledgehammer in his hands and the horns on his head. He swings the sledgehammer at me, and I dodge. That gives Jace an opening, but as he leaps, the Minotaur spins and Jace’s whimper echoes through The Tangle as the Minotaur drives his horns into my brother’s side.

“Jace!” I roar, the word piercing through our mental link while savageness comes out of my mouth. “Jace, talk to me!”

He doesn’t respond. He goes down in a heap with blood oozing from his mouth. His breathing sounds like broken glass. The Minotaur raises the sledgehammer to finish Jace off, and I leap on his back, sinking my fangs into his neck. He hurls me over his shoulder, but I take a piece of him with me, spitting it at him as I land on four paws.

The sight of blood incites his rage. He swings wildly with the sledgehammer as he closes in on me. I dodge several blows, and duck the last one, which makes the tree it hits explode into bark and sap. I have to avoid the timber as it falls. No military training will help me now. It’s beast versus beast, and the only one who will survive this fight is the one that doesn’t make a mistake.

But I’m fighting for more than just me. If I go down, Jace won’t survive either. I’ve lost too many brothers and sisters to let that happen. I watch the pattern of his swings as I dodge the next few and find my opening. He’s running on adrenaline and rage, but every swing drains more of his stamina. It’s been too long since his last full meal.

In the split second between him swinging his sledgehammer and drawing it back, I leap at him. I use my back two paws to kick the hammer, but he lowers his horns when I go for his throat. A horn catches me in the neck. I avoid being impaled by shifting, but I land on two human feet with blood gushing down my body. The Minotaur lets out something that sounds like a—laugh?

“Oh, shit,” I mutter, staggering away and checking my wound. “Now he thinks I’m food.”

I’m slower in my human form, and the Minotaur charges with horns lowered to gore me, so I have to shift again. I bite above his right hoof, then his knee, but my haunch gets skimmed by the hammer. A close call—too close. I’m losing blood and I need to finish this fight fast.

I wait for him to choose horns or sledgehammer for his next attack. He chooses steel, but his swings are getting slower. I duck beneath the second one and lunge upward with everything I have. My jaw clamps down around his exposed throat, right above the armored line of his scaled collar. The sledgehammer falls to the ground and he starts bucking, trying to dislodge me. I refuse to let go, twisting and tearing until I open a hole.

Tendons snap and the warm rush of blood floods past my teeth. The weight of him crashes to the ground. I keep biting and tearing at his throat, making sure there is no way he’ll wake up again. I stagger back, panting, muzzle dripping with Minotaur blood. My legs are weak and nearly give out, but I refuse to go down until I know my brother is still alive.

“Jace,” I call out through the link. This time he answers. A whimper. It’s weak, but it’s enough. “You’re alive.”

I throw my head back and howl for our brothers, then sprint to Jace’s side, shifting into my human form mid-stride.

“Can you shift?” I ask, kneeling beside him. “It’ll be easier to tend to your wound if you can.”

Jace’s purple-gold eyes flicker. He closes them, exhales, and melts into his human form. His ribs are clearly broken, and the wound on his side is gushing blood. I have basic medical training from the military, but our brother Gavin was the doctor. We lost him a long time ago.

I don’t have supplies. No gauze. No sealant. All of that is back at the den. All I have in instinct and desperation.

I tear back to the fallen Minotaurs. Their scaled leather armor is lined with cloth. It’s thick and grimy, but clean enough. I rip out a handful and race back to Jace’s side where I press it to his wound hard enough to slow the bleeding.

I get his wound wrapped the best I can, just as branches behind us crack and our brothers burst through the underbrush.

“What the fuck happened?” Knox demands, shifting as he skids to a stop. “This isn’t where we set up camp!”

“They were hungry and hunting,” I mutter, pressing a hand to my neck. My fingers come away soaked in blood. The ground tilts under me, but I steady myself. “We had to do something.”

“They weren’t hunting you ,” Knox growls, stepping forward like he’s ready for a fight.

“Stop,” Vance cuts in, shifting into human form as he reaches me. He crouches beside Jace, inspecting the makeshift bandage, his hand moving with practiced ease. “Caleb, try to get as much cloth as you can from that armor. I need to find some redwort. We passed a patch on the way here.”

Vance shifts again and vanishes into the underbrush with nothing but a flash of mossy brown fur and a purpose. Another rush of blood trails down my chest. I grit my teeth to keep from passing out.

“If you weren’t already hurt, I’d kick your fucking ass,” Knox says angrily, leaning down to check on Jace. “I still will if he doesn’t recover.”

Caleb remains silent. He examines Jace, then me, not even breathing as he peers at my wound. Is he angry? Does he understand? It’s hard to read him. All we’ve known is pain, heartbreak, and hunger since The Tangle swallowed us up. Is this the price of hope? Another one of my brothers hurt. More blood spilled. Going after the Minotaurs was reckless, but it felt right at the time. Because it kept them away from her. Except now it would be impossible for us to fight a Gen-Lion.

“As soon as Jace is able to travel, we’re returning to the den,” Knox states firmly. “I’m done with this. I’m not chasing whatever it is that is dragging you through The Tangle and causing you to make decisions that put us in danger.”

“Now who is trying to be a leader?” I chuckle dryly, leaning my head against a rock.

“Maybe somebody has to be,” Knox growls. “Otherwise, everyone just blindly follows you, and that’s going to get us killed.”

“You’ll understand. You will…” I mutter, my eyelids fluttering.

More blood runs down my chest.

My vision blurs as it saps what is left of my consciousness.