Page 18 of Nick (The Moonstone Pack #4)
PERCY WILLIAMS’S FOOTSTEPS ECHOED through the hallway, reaching the door marked with the alpha’s insignia—a sun flaring outward, its rays sharp like blades—and without any hesitation, he entered. Inside, Vincent stood behind his desk.
“Williams,” Vincent said without looking up from the paper he perused. “I have a task for you.”
“Of course, Alpha.”
“Nick, Sarah, Malcolm, the rest of their little band of traitors,” Vincent said, “they think they can undermine my authority, disrupt the order I’ve established.
” He dropped the paper, and his fingers curled into fists on the dark wood of his desk.
“Find them. Bring me Sarah Sanchez or Nick Reagan—alive. I don’t care which one. ”
“And the rest?”
A cruel smile twisted Vincent’s lips. “I’ll deal with them later.”
Not the answer he’d hoped for. Still, he pictured the fear in the rebels’ eyes when they realized the hunter on their trail was the merciless guardian with a reputation for brutality.
“Consider it done,” Percy said. “One will be enough to send the message, then?”
“I believe so,” Vincent said. “One to break, to bend to our will. The others… Well, I need to know all their crimes. Not to worry—they won’t be left unpunished. But you’re not walking into it blind. Several of them are holed up at Sarah’s trailer.”
Percy absorbed the information, his mind already racing with strategies and traps. The scent of fear would be strongest at Sarah’s trailer home, he surmised; desperation had a way of clinging to familiar places.
He could almost hear the pulse of the rebels’ hearts, feel their panicked breaths.
He was the shadow that would engulf their hope, the fangs that would tear into their defiance. They were nothing but whispers in the vast desert, and he was the looming storm.
“Good hunting.” Vincent’s final words echoed as Percy gave a sharp nod, then turned on his heel and headed out to enact his alpha’s will.
The hunt thrummed through him, calling out to the primal part of him, the part that lived for the chase and the capture.
Vincent’s orders weren’t just words; they were a decree to reinforce the rule of the Sunburst Pack—and therefore a command Percy would execute with merciless precision.
He would deliver fear and submission back to the heart of the Sunburst Pack, one rebel at a time.
Starting with Sarah Sanchez.
Percy’s senses sharpened, honed by years of tracking and enforcing the alpha’s ironfisted rule. He could almost taste the rebellion in the air, and he relished the thought of extinguishing it.
The Sunburst Pack would soon remember the true cost of defiance.
The hunt was on.
Less than an hour later, Percy approached Sarah’s trailer home under the star-studded night sky, a predator moving with silent purpose.
His senses, finely tuned instruments of detection, were alert for the slightest anomaly—a whisper of movement, the tremor of a heartbeat, the warm spice of a shifter’s presence against the cool evening air.
With every step closer to the weathered structure, Percy’s anticipation sharpened. He imagined the scene within—Nick and Sarah, rebels with frayed nerves, huddling in the cramped confines of their hideout.
Percy allowed himself a cold smile at the thought of their shock when he finally confronted them.
The trailer stood before him, its windows dark, the silence around it heavy with unspoken secrets. But Percy was no stranger to coaxing truths from the unwilling. He circled the perimeter, his eyes scanning for telltale signs of recent activity, his ears pricked for the softest sigh.
“Come out, come out,” he murmured, a taunting whisper lost to the wind. “This game of hide-and-seek ends tonight.”
He tested the air, searching for a scent that would betray the pair—a hint of fear, a dash of desperation.
“Your time is up,” Percy promised to the shadows, his voice a low growl of certainty.
Nick and Sarah, the heartbeats of the rebellion, would soon be in his grasp—one or the other.
The faintest whisper of shifter essence teased Percy’s nostrils as he prowled closer to the trailer home.
It clung to the rusted metal and broken steps like a lover’s last touch, an invisible smoke trail leading straight to his prey.
The scent was diluted by the night but unmistakable—a musky, wild aroma that stirred the primal core within him.
Sarah’s scent mingled with Nick’s. Percy allowed himself a cruel smile, savoring the certainty of his instincts.
Every step was measured, every breath controlled as he neared the door.
His hand hovered over the tarnished knob, muscles tensing in anticipation of the confrontation.
He pictured them inside, their hearts pounding against their ribs, unaware that fate loomed just outside their fragile refuge.
Percy relished the thought of their eyes widening in terror, the taste of their panic.
But before his knuckles could rap against the metal door, a distant purr of an engine cut through the stillness of the night. His ears twitched, pinpointing the direction of the sound.
Damn. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, and Vincent’s patience was not limitless. Percy’s nostrils flared at the intrusion, his plans momentarily thwarted.
He retreated into the shadows, his towering frame melting into the darkened alcove beside the trailer. The approaching vehicle’s headlights sliced through the darkness, casting long, dancing shadows across the gravel driveway.
Percy watched, eyes narrowed to slits, as the car rolled past the trailer park’s entrance. He stood motionless, a statue carved from cruelty and power, waiting for the interloper to pass so he could resume his mission.
The car disappeared down the road, and Percy unfolded from his hiding place.
He turned back toward the trailer door, ready to unleash violence. Tonight, Percy Williams would be an unstoppable force, an embodiment of the alpha’s merciless decree.
The car’s passing had been a mere hiccup in his plan, and now nothing stood between him and his prey.
As he drew closer, he detected the scent of sex.
His lip curled into a sneer at the smell—no one planning a rebellion should be wasting time with sex.
And to be honest, sex bored Percy—except when he used it to enforce the alpha’s will.
Percy’s lips twisted, anticipation swelling through him.
But then he froze as the door opened, and Sarah Sanchez stepped outside, her long, wavy dark hair framing her face as she glanced back into the trailer.
“No,” she said to someone behind her. “I think I left my phone in the Jeep. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Percy’s muscles tensed as he watched her, the element of surprise momentarily his ally. His mind raced, calculating, adapting. This was not part of the plan, but it was an opportunity he would seize.
Percy lunged forward like a shadow coming to life, his large hand clamping over Sarah’s mouth before she could utter another syllable.
Her eyes widened in shock and fear. He dragged her away from the safety of the trailer, muffling her cries.
“Quiet,” he hissed, his voice devoid of warmth as he pulled her along with a strength that brooked no argument. Sarah struggled against him, her body writhing in a futile attempt to break free, but Percy was merciless.
If he was going to be gone by the time Nick came looking for Sarah, he needed to move quickly.
Reaching his nondescript sedan, Percy opened the trunk, revealing coils of silver chains that glinted ominously in the moonlight.
The scent of the silver filled the air, mingling with the smell of Sarah’s fear.
With practiced ease, he pushed Sarah inside and began to bind her with the chains, not flinching as the metal seared his skin, the burn emblematic of his unwavering loyalty to the alpha.
His fingers caressed the silver chain, its metal biting into his skin, burning him. The pain was a mere inconvenience, the chain a tool in the game of dominance and punishment.
“Please,” Sarah gasped, the word barely audible through the gag he tied around her mouth.
“Save your breath,” Percy snapped, securing the last of the chains, the click of a padlock echoing in the cramped space of the trunk.
There would be no escape for her, not from him, not from the fate that awaited her at Vincent’s hands.
With Sarah contained, Percy shut the trunk. He glanced at the angry red welts on his palms, but his mission was all that mattered—his cruelty a tool honed by years of servitude under Vincent’s ruthless gaze.
He slid into the driver’s seat, watching Sarah’s trailer for any sign of pursuit as the engine of the car roared to life beneath him.
As he drove away from Sarah’s trailer home, leaving behind a trail of dust and betrayal, Percy felt a surge of satisfaction.
Tonight, he had proven his worth once again as the cruel guardian of the Sunburst Pack.
No one, not even Sarah Sanchez, with her sorrowful brown eyes, could stand in the way of his duty.
And now, he suspected, he’d be invited to carve her punishment into her skin.
With an evil grin, he pulled away from the trailer park.
Yes. This was definitely better than sex.