Page 45 of Wild Games

DEAN:Hold your position, Jax.

JAX:She’s my MATE.

DEAN: No shit.

There’s a heartbeat of silence over our mind-link as we watch the second pursuer slip between trees, keeping firmly to the shadows, moving further from my position and closer to Camille.

DEAN:It’s bad enough she’s stuck with you; don’t blow her sting just because you’re scared. She’d want to see this through.

Camille keeps walking, seemingly oblivious, but I know better. I’ve been stalking her, watching her every move, observing her body language like the obsessed fan that I am.

There’s slight tension in her shoulders. Her hands hang at her sides but her fingers curl, ready to come up and defend herself if needed.

She knows they’re there. She’s drawing them out, just like she planned, but as the trap closes in, my wolf rages, not caring about her career, Dean’s competition, or the injured wolves who deserve to face their attacker.

He just wants her safe.

DEAN:Don’t do it,Dean warns.You need to prove you have some level of control.

The path ahead forks at the hill’s crest. Left to Dean’s cabin where safety waits. Right, toward the lake, isolated and dark. They’re corralling her, using the second person to steer her where they want, effectively cutting off her route to the cabin.

Clever, but infuriating.

I shift position silently, muscles coiled tightly, clambering back onto my hands and knees and edging to a pile of boulders I can hide behind, then sprinting on to a dense thicket. Years of hunting these woods serve me now as I ghost through the trees, maintaining my vantage point and ensuring I have a quick, easy route to her if needed, while remaining upwind.

She slows at the fork, pretending to assess her options.

“Hello?” she calls, injecting a trace of nervousness into her voice as she looks over her shoulder. “Dean?”

She’s buying time, letting them commit to their plan, drawing them out. My brave, brilliant mate plays the perfect victim while my wolf howls to tear apart anyone who dares even breathe on her.

A snap of a twig, purposefully loud, and she pretends to make her decision, veering right.

They’re closing in now. No longer hiding their approach. They think they have her trapped, backed toward the water, where no one goes after dark or wanders past to come to her rescue.

Where her screams won’t carry back to the compound.

Camille’s pace quickens, and she adds in a dramatic stumble over a root as she frantically scans the trees on either side of her for effect. She looks terrified, her hair whipping around her face as she searches the depths of the undergrowth.

It’s so convincing that my wolf is now frantic, desperate to rush in, to throw her over his shoulder and carry her far from here.

Fur sprouts on the back of my hands, and my back arches where he tries to force the shift, bones popping, and skin stretching as he surfaces, threatening to burst forth at any second.

DEAN:Stay put until they make their move.That’s not a request, Jax.

My entire body vibrates with the need to act, but Dean’s alpha command glues me to the spot, and I force myself to stay quiet despite my wolf howling in my head, fighting hard against the alpha order.

Camille needs evidence. She needs them to act first, to incriminate themselves.

If I move too soon, it will all have been for nothing.

So, we wait and watch, dying a little with each step she takes toward the dark water’s edge.

The nearest follower is only twenty feet behind her now. The second has circled wide, cutting off retreat. This isn’t their first hunt.

Every muscle spasms with the effort of holding still. My vision flickers between human and wolf. The shift is winning.

She stops at the lake’s edge, moonlight reflecting off the still water, and fear shining in her eyes that I’m certain is partly real.