He stood there in the moonlight, a perfectly formed warrior. And he was staring at her.

Lycans always shifted naked. Trinity had seen others, and others had seen her. But for the first time, she was vitally aware of her body, as well as another’s.

She stood tall, her shoulders back. The cool wind played with her hair, the tendrils caressing her bare shoulders. His gaze skittered over her, from the top of her head, halting briefly at her lips before continuing its journey downward. When he raised his gaze, she sucked in her breath at the clear and visible hunger in his eyes.

Trinity couldn’t ever remember anyone staring at her so openly, so intently, so freely displaying his desire.

She stared back at Matthias for a moment. Powerful. Strong. The ring on the chain glinted in the moonlight.

And he bore the brand of another woman.

SHANNON CURTIS grew up picnicking in graveyards (long story) and reading by torchlight, and has worked in various roles, such as office admin manager, logistics supervisor and betting agent, to mention a few. Her first love—after reading, and her husband—is writing, and she writes romantic suspense, paranormal and contemporary romance. From faeries to cowboys, military men to business tycoons, she loves crafting stories of thrills, chills, kills and kisses. She divides her time between being an office administrator for the Romance Writers of Australia and creating spellbinding tales of mischief, mayhem and the occasional murder. She lives in Sydney, Australia, with her best-friend husband, three children, a woolly dog and a very disdainful cat. Shannon can be found lurking on Twitter, @2BShannonCurtis, and Facebook or you can email her at contactme@shannoncurtis.com—she loves hearing from readers. Like … LOVES it. Disturbingly so.

Lycan Unleashed
Shannon Curtis

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This one is for Eugenia. For all the giggles, the junk-food comas, the heartthrob crushes and the enduring good times. So many years, and yet we haven’t aged a bit.

No, wait, that should be “we haven’t matured a bit.”

Matthias and Trinity are for you. Okay, so mainly Matthias.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“What the hell are they doing?” Zane Wilder whispered.

“They’re training,” Matthias murmured. He tucked his ring and the chain it hung on around his neck under his T-shirt, not wanting a glint of sunlight on metal to give away their position. Both he and Zane lay prone on the ground as they peered over the edge of the ridge. A group of juveniles were clustered below in a clearing, and all listened avidly to the woman instructing them.

He and Zane were on a scouting mission, gathering as much information as possible on the Woodland Pack. Four months earlier his alpha prime, Jared Gray, had been poisoned in a dentist’s chair. The dentist, Ryder Galen, had ultimately proved his innocence and uncovered the conspiracy between Rafe Woodland, alpha prime of Woodland Pack, and Arthur Armstrong, the head of one of the oldest families in the capital city, Irondell. Arthur was currently remanded to a Reform prison, awaiting his trial.

Arthur Armstrong was a human, not a werewolf, so his crime—being a crossbreed crime—fell under the control of Reform Authority. Getting justice from that individual was out of his hands. Rafe Woodland, though, was a different matter entirely.

As neighboring werewolf packs, his own pack, Alpine, had requested to transfer the matter out of the Reform justice system, to deal with it under tribal jurisdiction. The Reform justice system governed all of the tribes, be they shadow breed or human, and had to be seen as fair and just for all. There were certain cases, though, that could be transferred to the tribes. In this case, when a werewolf from one pack coordinated the murder of a werewolf in another pack—especially if the murdered werewolf was an alpha prime—then the transfer was almost automatic. Rafe Woodland was proving a hard lycan to catch, though. He’d refused to acknowledge the charges and refused to turn himself in to Alpine.

So now they were working on plan B, perving on—er, no, scouting out the enemy. He eyed the woman below.

The sunlight filtered through the trees, picking out copper highlights in her braided brown hair. He wished he could see her eyes, but they were too far off. She turned away, her back to them, and Matthias couldn’t help noticing the indentation of her slender waist, the sexy curve of her hips, the way her jeans cupped her trim butt. She had an athletic figure that drew his attention, and he grew hard as he eyed her lean grace as she walked around the clearing, instructing her charges.

A cool breeze washed over him, a sign that the chill snows of winter were just around the corner. It teased the back of his neck, and he could almost imagine it was her fingers caressing him, playing with him, teasing him. Tempting him. He watched her hands as she spoke, the smooth, rolling gestures hypnotic and innately sensual. He wanted those hands on him. The lust he felt now was at first uncomfortable, then painful, and wholly surprising and unwelcome.

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the rise of desire within. Didn’t like it at all. He told himself he was merely surveying the enemy, that his intense interest—not lust—was completely warranted. She was undeniably sexy, moving with a lithe fluidity that called to a part of him he’d trapped and buried. His senses sharpened. His body throbbed in time with the slow, languid thump of his heart. The leaves in the surrounding trees rustled, whispering encouragement. He took a deep breath to calm his body’s reaction, and breathed in the loamy richness of the earth, the rock on which they lay hard and unrelenting. He caught the whiff of a scent, something he knew by instinct was hers, a delicate trail of spice amidst the fragrant forest. He dug his fingers into the stone outcrop as he battled the sensuality that was flooding him. He wanted to leap down, grab her and carry her off. The beast within him unfurled, awakened by his reactions, stretching, arching.

This was not the time to lose himself in an attraction, damn it. He was tempted, though. Tempted to ignore his goal, the reason he was spying on the enemy, to abandon his friend and surrender to the lust that was licking at his defenses, like a bushfire consuming the land.

The woman commanded the attention of several adolescents as she spoke with them quietly. Matthias felt a smile tease at the corners of his mouth as he watched a little boy of maybe five years old standing next to her. Once again, his reaction surprised him as much as it displeased him. The kid mimicked her stance, nodding and frowning as she spoke to the group. A man stood behind the class, and Matthias wondered briefly who he was and what his connection was to the woman. Something deep, dark and possessive rose within him, and yes, so did a hint of jealousy, of envy, that this man was within her trusted circle. The man nodded, then jogged away into the undergrowth.

The woman held up her hands, calling their focus back to her as she assigned partners within the group. Her back was to him, but her movement raised her shirt and jacket, calling his attention back to her butt, her waist. This reaction he had to her was new. Alien. The kid started to wander off, but she grabbed hold of the back of the younger kid’s hooded pullover, not once breaking her focus from the adolescents as she gently pulled the child back to her side. Matthias sucked in a breath as, just for a moment, the scene below merged with a memory he’d ruthlessly ignored and never thought to revisit, of another woman, another boy...another time.

The kid frowned up at her, folding his arms as his lips pouted, but the woman ruffled his hair absently as she kept talking. After a few more minutes of instructions, she clapped her hands and gestured to the edge of the clearing, and the pairs of adolescents took off in multiple directions.

“That must be the Woodland Tracker Prime,” Zane murmured. “I’ve heard she’s good. One of the best.”

Matthias raised his eyebrows briefly at his friend’s remarks. The guardian had a knack for acquiring intel. So far he’d been quite valuable in getting information on the Woodland pack. Although he had to admit, even he’d heard of the Woodland Tracker Prime.

“Hmm.” Matthias didn’t take his gaze off the woman as she finally turned her attention to the boy. She folded her arms and tipped her head to the side. Her brown braid slid forward over her shoulder, and his body tightened. He wanted to touch that hair, unravel the braid and watch it slide through his fingers. He wondered if it was as silky as it looked. Again, he was stunned by his curiosity—no, his need—to know more of this woman.

She was tall, he could tell, despite their angle of viewing. Damn, she had great legs. Long, slender and encased in denim, her coltish frame had just enough curves to catch and hold his attention. Those legs...wrapped around his waist...

He clenched his teeth. This was not the time to get horny over a she-wolf, for God’s sake—no matter how long it’d been since he’d looked at another woman as more than just a pack mate. The woman below was Woodland. The enemy. Her family—hell, maybe even she, had been responsible for Jared’s death. The pack was systematically thumbing its collective nose at the rest of the lycan tribe. They had killed his friend, his mentor, his alpha prime.

And she was one of them.

Everyone at Woodland would pay for what they’d done to Alpine. Just the thought that she was part of the enemy pack—and in a trusted position, if she was training juveniles—was enough to snap everything back into perspective. He wasn’t there to ogle. He was there to gather information, maybe even hunt.

From this distance, he couldn’t make out what was being said. The kid dragged his toe in the dirt, and she squatted down so that her eyes were level with his. Her jeans tightened around her butt, although it was the sight of the woman leaning in to the little boy that brought a tightness to his throat, the emotion taking him by surprise. He shifted, trying to shrug the moment off. She looked nothing like Cara.

“One would almost think Woodland care for their young, too,” Zane commented in a rough whisper.

“They’re still lycans,” Matthias murmured. And as such, had similar weaknesses to the rest of the lycan tribe, weaknesses that could be exploited. “They’ll still value life.” The young were to be protected, nurtured. Loved.

Whatever the woman said cheered up the kid, as he started to strut about the clearing. He’d point at something, and she’d either shake her head or shrug, walking behind him with her hands clasped behind her back. She was relaxed, patiently answering the questions the boy asked. Eventually he reached the point where the man had stood, and looked up at his instructor. She smiled and nodded, giving him a high five, then knelt beside him, tracing something in the dirt. The kid nodded, took a few steps, then pointed. She gave him a thumbs-up, rising to her feet to follow.

Zane started to shuffle back from the edge, but Matthias’s hand shot out, clutching his forearm. They both froze. The woman halted at the edge of the clearing and cocked her head to the side. She turned to slowly scan the area. Matthias didn’t move. His muscles clenched tight, and his breath caught in his chest. The reason they’d picked this vantage point was because they couldn’t be seen from below, yet the woman’s gaze remained glued to the ridge for a moment, before finally drifting on. The boy must have asked her something, for she turned to him, a reassuring smile on her face as she held her arms out. He ran up to her, and she grasped his wrists, swinging him up and over her shoulders until he could wrap his arms around her neck. She carried him, piggyback-style, into the woods, furtively glancing over her shoulder as she went.

Matthias relaxed once she was out of sight.

“Did she see us?” Zane asked as he retreated from the ridge.

Matthias shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Should we go after her? She could prove valuable.”

He shook his head. “No.” He kept scanning the trees, but it was as though the brown-haired woman had melted into the forest, disappearing like a wisp of mist. He smiled. They wouldn’t go after her, not now.

Maybe later.

* * *

Trinity Caldwell slung her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped into the great hall. Fires burned from the wall sconces bolted into the stone, casting flickering shadows down the walls and across the dirt floor as members of her pack went about their daily business. Not many spoke, though, and most walked with their eyes downcast as they went about their tasks. The hall had almost returned to normal, although there were still some repair areas cordoned off. Just over a month ago an explosion had ripped through the hall and some of the main corridors, and there were still some ongoing issues as a result. At least Rafe had acceded to her request for routine structural inspections.

She sighed as she stepped brusquely along. They still weren’t quite sure how the explosion had occurred. One moment Rafe was interrogating a half-blood vampire lawyer and her client, Ryder Galen, a dentist accused of murdering the alpha prime from a neighboring pack, and in the next, Galen had somehow managed to trigger an explosion that knocked all those in the hall unconscious. Thankfully, nobody died. Not from the explosion, anyway. One lycan had lost his teeth, courtesy of the dentist, and two guardians had died in the forest on their way to returning the vampire lawyer to the nearby vampire colony. Well, at least that was what she and her pack had thought at the time. It turned out Rafe, her pack’s alpha prime, had subtly instructed the guardians to permanently remove the vampire lawyer. She’d killed those guardians in self-defense. All deaths that could have been avoided, damn it. She thought of Jax. His father had been one of the guardians slain in the forest—a guardian prime, no less. Her pack was still reeling from the death of a highly respected, highly valued warrior. His partner, dealing with a young son and the death of her mate, was struggling to cope.

Trinity sighed. She knew how it felt, losing one parent and having another swept away in a tide of mourning. Well, she’d keep an eye on the kid. At least Jax would know he wasn’t invisible. Not around Trinity, anyway. She’d taken him out on one of the juvenile training sessions, and the kid had done well. He needed a short leash, though, she’d noticed. He had a tendency to wander off and get into mischief. She smiled. He was a good kid.

She made her way toward a little-used corridor that would lead her deeper into the mountain and then out the other side. She skirted along the rim of the great hall, nodding occasionally to friends and family as she passed them. Some acknowledged her. Others acted as though they didn’t see her—but that was a reasonable reaction, she kept telling herself. She wasn’t going to let it hurt her, not like it had when she was a teen. The great hall was a large, long cave, and along the rim the stone wall had natural pockets of space used for storage or as alcoves used for sundry tasks and private conversations.

A roar echoed down the main corridor, and instinctively she ducked behind a stone column as her alpha prime, Rafe Woodland, stalked into the long stone cavern. She’d learned that disappearing was always the best option in her dealings with the lycan.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” he shouted, arms out.

Dion, the recently appointed Woodland Guardian Prime, strode alongside him. “The supplies have been stopped beyond Summercliffe—Alpine have made a blockade.”

Rafe took a deep breath as he clenched and unclenched his fingers, and Trinity drew deeper into the shadows. Some of the others in the hall paused. Everyone knew the warning signs.

“We need those supplies,” he grated, his teeth visible.

“We can’t get them.”

Rafe picked up a cup and hurled it at the wall, and Trinity flinched as the ceramic shattered into small pieces.

Those close enough in the hall to witness the display rose to their feet, and Trinity watched as some of the men exchanged wary looks. A child huddling under one of the tables closest to Rafe caught Trinity’s eye, and she sighed. Jax. The pup looked scared, and Trinity glanced around for his mom. The woman was nowhere to be seen; she was probably back in her den staring at a dirt wall as she pined for her dead mate.

Meanwhile, their alpha was having a temper tantrum, and the pack was keeping its distance. Like she should. Jax’s anxious gaze met hers, and her breath escaped in a frustrated gust. She knew what it was like to be the lost kid hiding under the table. Damn it. She should mind her own business. Pretend she didn’t hear or see anything. One more look at the kid cowering beneath the table and she pursed her lips. Ah, hell.

She stepped out from behind the pillar, trying to do it slowly, without calling attention to herself.

“You had one job—get the supplies and come back.” Rafe backhanded his guardian, sending him crashing against the table under which Jax cowered, and Trinity frowned. Dion reared up, his fists clenched, but forced himself to lower his gaze beneath the angry glare of his alpha prime. Dion’s predecessor had died at the hands of the vampire lawyer in the woods, and Dion was still trying to prove himself to the pack leader. It wasn’t Dion’s fault the border was closed. He didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. He was a guardian prime now, too, and should be treated with the respect due his station, especially in front of the rest of the pack.

“What did you expect, Rafe?” Trinity asked coolly as she stepped farther into the hall, wending her way through the small cluster of people, all attempts at blending into the background set aside. She tried to hide the tension in her fists by clutching onto the straps of her backpack. He was being unfair to her pack mate—and she hated unfair. “We’ve antagonized them.” She was still trying to understand the strategic benefit of killing the Alpine Alpha Prime, and she knew other pack members struggled with Rafe’s rationale. If she’d known Rafe’s intention of killing another pack’s alpha prime, she would have tried to stop him. Which was probably why she hadn’t known until Rafe had sent guardians into Nightwing, the neighboring vampire territory, to abduct a half-blood vampire and the human accused of the Alpine pack leader’s murder in an effort to bury the truth with them. No wonder Alpine were blocking them. They’d killed an alpha prime.

Rafe turned to face her, and his eyes narrowed when he recognized her.

“Trinity. This doesn’t concern you.”

Despite the knot in her stomach, she raised her eyebrows. “Well, if we can’t get anything into Woodland, it concerns me. It concerns the whole pack.” Nightwing was their most direct route from Irondell, the capital city of Metriz. After the time of Resolution, and during Reformation, each breed was assigned territory, and there were strict rules for governance, travel and trade that had to be observed. Irondell was the engine for it all, home to a blending of all breeds, including humans, and the seat for the Reform Council.

While they had other options like going through the River, Glen and Alpine territories, as well as the Plains, each alternative presented its own issues. They were already low on some of the medical supplies, and they needed to restock their food before the first snows of winter.

Rafe put his hands on his hips as he strolled toward her. His movements were casual, but his posture was intimidating. The ring on his finger glinted in the torchlight from the wall sconces. It bore the Woodland crest, and was only worn by the Woodland Alpha Prime. The sight of that ring would normally make a pack member bow their head in submission.

She lifted her chin. She was a former Scion. She wouldn’t allow herself to be intimidated. As he stepped closer, she recognized the ire in his green eyes, such a bright contrast against the fall of dark, scruffy hair, the tanned skin and dark shadow of a beard, and she locked her knees into place. Nope. Not intimidated. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his size as imposing as the mountain they lived within, but she knew him well enough to see past the darkly handsome looks to the even darker personality within. They’d lived as pack mates all her life, yet she could honestly say she didn’t know this lycan. He’d been normal, once. Hell, they’d been friends. Then over the course of one winter he’d visited his father in another pack and returned a born-again douche. She barely recognized this angry, bitter stranger. The man who’d taken over her father’s position. Her grip tightened on the straps of her backpack.

“Don’t push it,” he said, his voice low in warning.

“Rafe—we’ve just received a request,” a voice called out, and Trinity turned, as did Rafe. Channing, the head of tech, jogged into the hall.

Rafe frowned, visibly annoyed by the interruption. “For what? From whom?”

Channing came to a stop in front of his alpha, his expression earnest. “Alpine Pack request parley.”

Trinity’s eyes widened, and she could sense the growing trepidation from her pack mates behind her, yet she felt a relief at the distraction, no longer under the steely regard of her alpha prime.

“Oh, do they just?” Rafe murmured.

“‘Matthias, Alpine Guardian Prime, formally requests parley with Rafe, Alpha Prime of Woodland Pack,’” Channing quoted, then dropped his gaze.

Dion swore softly, and the guardians who were in the hall rose to their feet. Trinity stepped closer, and her movement drew Rafe’s attention.

“This doesn’t concern you, either.” His tone was implacable.

Parley from Alpine didn’t concern her? Didn’t concern pack? Woodland had killed the Alpine Alpha Prime. Alpine were coordinating blockages to supplies and services, and now wanted to discuss a resolution under truce. This concerned all of Woodland Pack. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but Rafe put a finger to his lips.

“Remember, you’re no longer part of the Family Prime.” He cocked his head to the side, and flashed his teeth in a smile. Trinity eyed his incisors. Those darn teeth. Even now, he lengthened them for effect, for intimidation. This whole debacle had started when he’d visited the Armstrong shadow breed medical clinic in Irondell for a fang enhancement. Now he didn’t need to shift in order to use his fangs. Those new fangs also came with an aggressive attitude and a thirst for power. Arthur Armstrong had a lot to answer for. “Unless you’d like to discuss your position?”

He leaned against the table and folded his arms, waiting for her response. Jax paled, and looked about frantically for an escape route.

She maintained eye contact as she stepped closer and leaned down to reach under the table. “No, I’m good, thanks,” she said, and felt a small hand slide into her own.

She tugged, and the little boy crawled out, his eyes wide as he glanced up at his fearsome alpha. She pulled him behind her as she started to back away from Rafe. He watched her, his gaze shifting between her and the boy.

“Are you sure?” he asked silkily. “You seem to have an opinion on everything.” She shook her head. “Then stay out of my business,” he said, his voice louder as he straightened from his position. He glanced around the crowd in the hall. “I’m calling a guardian meeting. Everyone else, clear the hall.” He glanced back at Trinity. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Trinity swallowed as everyone except the Woodland guardians cleared the hall, the low hush of conversation gradually quieting. She nudged Jax in the direction of one of the corridors. She didn’t want to be “dealt with” later, particularly not by Rafe. She should have just kept her mouth shut and disappeared into the background.

“Go back to your den. Help out your mother. I’ll see you tomorrow for class.”

Jax nodded, all too pleased to escape the tension of the great hall.

Trinity hurried from the cavern. She didn’t look back, but she could feel the heavy weight of Rafe’s stare as she left. Next time, she really would keep her mouth shut.

She knew what he was asking. Hell, pretty much everyone within earshot knew what he was asking, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The price was too high.

Chapter 2

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

Matthias spared his friend a brief glance. Zane’s brown gaze scanned the forest terrain around them. Late-afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting light and shadow in dappled patterns across the forest floor.

“Relax, Zane, we’ll be fine,” Matthias said, his arms at his sides as he gazed down the trail.

“I don’t trust Rafe Woodland as far as I can throw him,” the guardian muttered, folding his arms.

Matthias’s lips twitched. “Neither do I.” He’d been surprised that Woodland had agreed to parley. Surprised and suspicious.

“We should be doing this in Nightwing. Neutral territory.”

Matthias glanced over his shoulder, looking for any giveaway movement in the underbrush. Nightwing was the home territory for a colony of vampires, spearheaded by the Marchetta family. Well, Vivianne Marchetta. There was a brother, Lucien, but he hadn’t been in the area for years as he headed up the family’s interests on the west coast. “Our deal with Marchetta is for thoroughfare only. If we held this meeting in Nightwing, we’d have a whole bunch of vampires raining down on us.”

“As opposed to a rival pack,” Zane said drily.

Matthias grinned. “You sound scared, Zane.” His grin broadened when his sergeant shot him a dark look. “Besides, I don’t trust Marchetta that much, either.” It had been annoying enough having to enter into talks with Nightwing’s vampire prime, but he didn’t want to further indebt the Alpine pack to the vampires. They could use the Nightwing territory as a shortcut between Alpine and Woodland, but they were to use it as a thoroughfare, not a stopover. He’d agreed readily enough. He didn’t know any wolf who wanted to hang around with a bunch of bats. Besides, their argument was with the Woodland Alpha Prime, not the vamps. If they gave him and his lycans a wide berth, he could do the same.

“I don’t see why we don’t just storm the den.” Zane walked for a couple of steps, then wandered back to him. “The others are ready for it. Hell, they want his blood.”

Matthias’s lips tightened, and he clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Firstly, we have no idea where their den is. Secondly, we all want his blood. Jared was my friend, Zane, as well as my alpha. I hate that he died on my watch, and I’ll do everything in my power to avenge his death. That’s a promise.” He needed the pack to know that.

Zane tilted his head. “Jared’s death wasn’t your fault, Matt. He went out on his own.”

Matthias’s arm dropped back to his side. “He was my alpha. I was his guardian, and he was murdered.” He glanced away. “I let him down.”

In his mind, there was no doubt. Yet again, someone he loved had died on his watch. This time, though, there would be payback.

Zane shook his head as he turned back to the forest. “Nobody blames you for it. Not even Samantha.”

He winced. Samantha Alpine was pregnant with Jared’s baby. That was possibly the hardest part, knowing his good friend wouldn’t be there for the birth of his son, would never hold the babe in his arms, smell his scent, nuzzle noses with him, see him take his first steps, show him how to hunt or talk to him about girls. He wasn’t sure what was worse: having some of those moments and knowing what you were missing out on, or missing out on them altogether.

“I appreciate that,” he said softly. He did, but nothing could erase his own sense of guilt at the murder of his friend. A sound in the distance alerted him, and farther down the track he heard the rustle of wings as birds were startled into flight.

“They’re here,” he murmured.

“I say we kill him now.”

Matthias shook his head. “Diplomacy first.” He shrugged. “Then we kill.”

Rafe Woodland came into view, striding along the track with his shoulders back. His expression was dark, fierce—not in the least contrite or remorseful, Matthias noted. Rafe was followed by four guardians.

“I count six in the fringe,” Zane murmured. Matthias hid his nod by looking down as he casually folded his arms.

“There will be more,” he muttered beneath his breath, before glancing up to meet Rafe’s gaze. He’d expected the alpha prime to stock the forest glade with his supporters, but was mildly impressed by the numbers. Pity. Obviously the alpha prime wasn’t that interested in a peaceful resolution.

Matthias smiled grimly. He was going to enjoy this.

“You’re trespassing,” Rafe said brusquely as he stopped in front of him.

“We’re here under parley.” The very nature of the discussion implied permission to be on the land, from time of entry, for the duration of the talks and until the time of exit.

“Then hurry up and state your terms.” Rafe glanced off into the trees behind Matthias. “What is it you want?”

“Oh, that’s simple,” Matthias answered. “We want you.”

Rafe arched an eyebrow. “Then this is a waste of time. Not happening.” He started to turn away.

Matthias placed his hands on his hips and bent a leg in a relaxed pose. He puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled. “Well, that’s a shame. For you, and for Woodland.”

Rafe paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You conspired with Arthur Armstrong to kill Jared Gray. Armstrong is being handled through Reform Court, but you—your ass is mine.”

Rafe turned. “What if I said I don’t remember? What if I told you I have no recollection of the events leading up to Jared Gray’s death?”

Matthias shook his head. Nothing could excuse what this lycan had done, siding with a human against another of his own kind. “I’d say you were lying to avoid facing punishment.”

Rafe chuckled. “Punishment? You’re not looking for punishment. You’re looking for blood. My blood.”

Matthias nodded. “It’s a start.”

Rafe shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

Matthias stepped closer to the alpha prime to look him straight in the eye. “I’m offering you a limited-time deal. You come with us. Now. We leave Woodland territory, and nobody else needs to get hurt.”

Rafe arched an eyebrow. “Or?”

“Or you hide behind your pack mates, and instigate a pack war. Who knows how many lycans will die?” He was prepared to offer the alpha prime an honorable out. But if the lycan didn’t take it, he was prepared to make the whole pack take responsibility for the tragedy wrought against the Alpine pack.

“On both sides,” Rafe pointed out.

Matthias smiled. “Ah, but you did us wrong, Woodland, and you pissed us off in the process. We will come at you from every angle, with everything we’ve got. Do you really think you’ll win? How are your stocks going? Got enough to feed your pack for the winter?” He knew they were running low. He’d managed to close a number of their borders with neighboring packs, preventing the delivery of much-needed supplies.

Rafe bared his teeth, and Matthias was surprised to see the lycan’s incisors lengthen with a vampiric grace. “You threaten me, and you threaten my pack, under the guise of parley?”

Matthias wouldn’t back down, despite the fangs gleaming in his direction. The audacity of the man angered him. Rafe stood there, and his close friend was in the ground, lifeless, because of this lycan’s selfish ambition.

“I’m telling you how it is,” Matthias rasped, the words emerging from deep within his throat. “And how it will be. Woodland will pay for murdering Jared Gray.” He put all his sincerity and determination behind the vow, leaving the alpha prime in no doubt that he meant what he said.

Rafe smiled, his eyes glittering as he removed the Woodland crest ring he wore on the third finger of his right hand, the symbol of his rank within the pack, and slipped it into his jeans pocket. “Well, I guess that’s the end of parley, then, isn’t it?”

The alpha prime sprang at him, and Matthias grabbed his shoulders, using the momentum to pull him over and hurl him into a giant redwood behind him.

Matthias’s guardians rose from their hiding places, teeth bared, and the forest rumbled with the growls of a dozen lycan warriors as they shifted into beast form and attacked.

Rafe rolled to his feet, glaring at Matthias, who grinned back. Woodland wasn’t the only one to attend parley with backup. Rafe morphed into his beast form, a wolf with jet-black fur, and Matthias did the same, surrendering to his beast, his white fur almost a beacon in the dark forest. The lycans shrugged the remnants of clothes from their bodies as they launched at each other.

Rafe caught him in the shoulder with a meaty paw. Matthias fell back. He snapped at the black wolf, catching him in the chest with a sharp nip before the Woodland Alpha Prime leaped away. Two wolves bounded into the clearing to aid the Woodland pack leader. Matthias whirled and snapped, relinquishing his control to the rage he always carried within. It started low, but rose in a red-hot wave of fury, power coursing through his muscles, through his very blood. He hunkered down, prepared to take on the three large lycans. One charged at him, and Matthias neatly sidestepped, shredding the wolf’s side with his claws as he barreled past.

His heart rate throbbed within his ears, within his chest, as his muscles bunched. A thump on his back propelled him forward, and he rolled, hearing the snap of jaws in his ear as he dodged a nasty bite. He kicked at the attacking wolf with force, sending him back awkwardly against a large boulder, and he heard the crack of the wolf’s head against stone.

The large black wolf charged, and they both rolled in the dirt and pine needles, snapping and growling. Matthias jerked his head back from the alpha prime’s jaws, and the wolf ended up biting on the chain around his neck instead. Instantly Matthias morphed, grabbing the snout of the lycan to prevent the chain from snapping. For a moment they glared at each other, man to wolf. As realization dawned in the lycan’s eyes, Matthias moved. A series of quick, hard jabs to the wolf’s soft belly, and the Woodland Alpha Prime was forced to open his mouth to suck in tortured gasps.

Matthias rescued the chain, morphing back into his beast form. He glanced around the clearing. His men were vastly outnumbered, although they held their own against the Woodland guardians. He turned to face the black wolf. Woodland lifted his head and howled. Matthias gritted his teeth. It was a call for reinforcements.

* * *

Trinity froze as the call of the lycans echoed through the forest. She glanced about, trying to gauge the direction of the alarm. Another howl echoed through the forest, a voice she didn’t recognize.

A trespasser. Someone else was in the forest, someone other than Woodland.

“What’s that?” Jax asked, his young eyes wide as he came bounding out of the underbrush.

“Time to go home.” She’d had to clear this excursion with Rafe himself. All trips into the forest were assessed with care, so the noises startled her out of her relaxed state, her heart pounding at the rude shock.

She whistled, and one by one, her class of juniors came running through the forest toward her. Her fists clenched as she counted them off on return, nodding with relief when she had full attendance. Their tracking exercise had just been cut drastically short.

She beckoned them into a huddle. “Follow me. Do not stray. Do not wander off. Do not make a sound, okay?”

The young children nodded, eyes wide in pale faces and she gave them all a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, guys. This is just a drill—but we do drills exactly like the real thing, don’t we?” She tried to make the lie as convincing as possible. They’d never had a drill for anything like this, with the sounds of fighting echoing through the forest.

The kids still looked a little anxious, so she tried again. “First one back to the hall gets a treat.” She started jogging cross-country, checking over her shoulder to ensure each of her wards were following closely. Ducking under ferns, leaping over logs, the children ran silently through the forest.

Trinity could hear the grunts and growls in the distance, and her heart hammered in her chest. The kids. She had to get the kids to safety. There would be time enough later to find out what had made hell break loose in the woods.

She skidded to a stop at the foot of the mountain and heaved against a massive boulder. It shifted slowly to reveal a dark hole, one that would just fit her if she bent over double.

“Go here,” she ordered to the first child who reached her.

“But it’s dark,” the girl whispered, shrinking back.

Trinity winked. “It’s okay, Mia. The dark can be your friend,” she whispered back. “It can hug you and hide you. Don’t worry, it’s only dark until the first intersection.” She’d learned that the dark could protect, could hide, could reveal all sorts of secrets.

“What if we get lost?” Mia whimpered.

“You won’t. Keep turning right, and you’ll end up in the laundry.” She knew all of the tunnels within the mountain like the back of her hand, knew exactly the quickest, shortest route to safety for her pups. “When you’re all inside, go and wait for me in the great hall. Now go.”

She put her hand over the child’s head, guiding her through the opening so that she wouldn’t bump into the rock face, then helped the next child, then the next. Seven. Eight. Trinity frowned. Where was number nine?

“Who’s missing?” she grabbed the disappearing ankle of the last child in the line as she mentally reviewed the names of the children who’d passed. “Jax. Where’s Jax?”

The little boy shrugged. “He saw a trail.”

Trinity swore under her breath. Great. The too-curious kid was wandering into a battle zone. “Go on,” she muttered. “Get back to the others, and stick together in the great hall until your parents come and collect you, okay?”

The boy nodded, then started crawling again, and Trinity pushed against the boulder until it concealed the bolt-hole, then took off running up the path, her eyes scanning the undergrowth for signs of Jax’s trail. When she got her hands on that kid...

She spied a branch that was snapped but not fallen. It had caught on another branch, indicating the direction the boy had taken. She skidded a little as she changed direction, following the slight indentation in the loamy soil here, the break of a branch there, the gap in a bush further along. Her heart pounding, she jumped over fallen logs, ducked under branches, and sprinted along paths that weren’t really paths at all, merely vague impressions of a little boy’s passing. Little trails worn by smaller creatures through the forest that unfolded at the same breakneck pace she ran. She had a skill for spying tracks and trails, no matter how faint, how old, how unused—or how newly trodden by a five-year-old pup.

Birds screeched and flew overhead, and she almost tripped over a rabbit as it bounded across her path. Something was going on, something big. She tucked her elbows in against her sides, fingers straight and rigid as she pumped her legs faster. Trees whizzed past her in a blur. She catalogued each little sign of Jax’s trail, then skidded to a stop, her chest heaving, her eyes wide.

Jax stood on the tips of his toes by a tree, his hooded sweatshirt clutched by a tall, bearded lycan. The man wore only a pair of camouflage pants. No shirt, no shoes. He was streaked with dirt and blood, and his expression was fierce as he gazed back at her.

“Let him go,” she said, her voice low. Despite the panic, the fear, her words came out dead calm. She stepped closer, just once, and the man backed away, pulling Jax along with him. Anger flared inside her. Jax was a pup, damn it. A Woodland pup. Nobody threatened her pups.

The boy whimpered, his eyes round with fear.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she said in a soothing voice, although her gaze didn’t shift from the lycan. “You will not hurt him,” she said, her tone low and heavy with warning. If he so much as hurt a hair on Jax’s head, she would kill him. Or at least try to. Her skills weren’t in fighting. Her eyes narrowed. There was only one of him, and although he was big and obviously a warrior while she was neither, she was prepared to try and take him down, if only to give Jax an opportunity to escape.

“I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to release him,” she said, edging closer. The lycan narrowed his eyes.

“One,” she said slowly, then launched herself at him, using the element of surprise as an advantage.

A heavy body slammed into her side and she was caught in midair and knocked off target. She rolled in the dirt, trying to escape the weight, fists and feet lashing out, cursing herself for her mistake. He wasn’t alone. Flashes of tanned skin and white-blond hair made brief impressions as she tried to keep some momentum, to roll away. She heard a muffled oof as her fist connected with something firm and warm, then she grunted as her back was slammed against the dirt, and something hard, muscled and strong slammed against her front. Her wrists were grasped and shoved above her head, and she shook her hair out of her eyes as she glared at the shirtless lycan lying on top of her.

“Someone can’t count,” he commented drily, staring down at her, a grin sliding over his lips.

Chapter 3

Blue eyes. She had blue eyes. Matthias stared down at the woman lying beneath him, the ring on his necklace a hard, unrelenting circle between them. He and Zane had barely retrieved their stash of spare clothing before they’d heard the boy thrashing through the bush, and now—well, now she was beneath him. His heart thundered from the fight, from the retreat, adrenaline pulsing through his body. Arousal, hot and heavy, flooded him instantly, his system already on high sensory alert.

“Get off me,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice low and husky. She glared up at him, and his heart stuttered, just for a moment. Those eyes, so dark, so stormy blue, yet with slivers of silver that caught and held his gaze. Her nose was narrow, her cheeks flushed, the bones of her cheeks and jaws so defined, her lips luscious. That voice, that breathy, sexy voice that curled and teased at his ears and hardened his arousal. He was bombarded with sensory information. And oh, hell, her scent.

He lowered his head into the cradle of her neck and inhaled, closing his eyes as her scent filled him, washed over him, aroused him. Wild honeysuckle, vanilla and something that was uniquely her, something that drove all sense and inhibition away, something that called to his beast, that had him slowly relaxing into her.

“Ge-get off me,” she said, although this time she didn’t sound half so ferocious. She tried to buck him off her, and he exhaled blissfully at the thrust of her body against his. He skimmed his nose up her neck, to the little indent behind her ear. She smelled like...home.

The word opened his eyes, and he paused. Home? He blinked, lifting his chest off her, but still pressing her into the ground with the weight of his lower body. Focus.

“You have a choice,” he murmured, then moaned as she tried to roll, to lift him off her with the strength of those legs he wanted wrapped around his waist. He relaxed, pressing his arousal into the valley between her legs, and her blue eyes widened as she felt his erection.

She swallowed, and he watched the movement of her throat, saw the flutter of the pulse in the indentation of her neck. Her cheeks flushed, and her scent changed, drifting into something darker, sexier, spicier. Arousal. It flowed between them, though by the shock in her eyes, it wasn’t exactly welcome.

“What?” her voice came out as a husky rasp.

“Take me to your den,” he said, and waited for her reaction.

Her chin lowered. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed up at him, taking in his hair, every feature of his face. He didn’t think she meant it, but the intensity with which she stared at him made each glance feel like a caress.

“Alpine?” she whispered, a growing awareness darkening her eyes.

He nodded. “Take me to your den.”

She shook her head, pine needles rustling beneath her. “No.”

He smiled. He liked that she wasn’t a pushover, that she was prepared to stand up to him. Hell, she’d been prepared to attack Zane, a lycan half a head taller than her and a good deal heavier. The thought reminded him of his friend, and he lifted his gaze.

Zane stood off to the side, one hand holding the hooded sweatshirt of the boy, the other hand on his hip, his head tilted. His friend arched an eyebrow as he stared down at the couple lying entangled in the dirt.

“Don’t mind us,” his friend commented with a casual wave of his hand toward them.

“Take him,” Matthias said brusquely.

“No,” she cried out, trying to struggle against him. He watched as Zane turned and gently pulled the youngster along with him.

“No, wait.”

Matthias glanced down at her. Her concern, her worry for the child, was clearly stamped on her face, and he smiled with satisfaction.

“What do you want?” she looked up at him, then back at the lad. Zane had halted, his head inclined as he listened to their conversation.

“Take me to your alpha prime, and we will release the boy.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll take him back to Alpine.”

“And what?”

He dipped his head so that his lips were close to her mouth. “What do you think?” he whispered, making sure the boy couldn’t hear them. He didn’t want the lad scared any more than he already was. He had no idea what Woodland wolves thought they did back home, but imagination could be a good weapon.

Anger flared like blue fire within her eyes. He was surprised by her reaction. Surprised and impressed. Not fear. Not worry, or horror, or distaste. Anger. She was a fighter, one ready to risk her life to protect the boy. Did she have any idea how easy it was to use him as leverage? He certainly wasn’t about to clue her in. He smiled.

“Your choice,” he whispered against her lips.

Her frown deepened. “That’s not a choice,” she said, her eyes flashing.

He grinned. “I’m glad you see it my way. Take him back to camp,” he called to Zane, not removing his gaze from the woman.

“Trinity,” Jax called out, his uncertainty clear.

He tilted his head, and she growled softly, then turned her head to look back at the boy. “It’s okay, Jax. We’re going to be fine.” She gave the lad a reassuring smile, and Matthias was caught by the light in her eyes, the glow of confidence.

He listened as the guardian walked away through the forest. When they turned down the trail, she dropped the smile and turned back to fix him with a steely glare. Not just a fighter, she had the ferocious spirit of a warrior, he realized, intrigued by the visible resolve as her eyes shifted to a steely blue.

“You’ve got what you want, now get off me,” she snapped. She moved under him, trying to pull her wrists out of his grasp.

He relaxed, his chest lowering to press against hers. Her gaze flicked up to him, and he could feel her heart pounding against his. There was something in her eyes... It wasn’t fear; it was an awareness, a flare of something warmer. Desire. He could see it, he could smell it. He could feel it as her breasts swelled beneath him, her nipples a sweet torment as they peaked against his chest.

“Oh, honey, you have no idea what I want,” he murmured as he inhaled her sweet essence again. It was pure seduction, her scent. He trailed his nose along her jaw, and smiled when she rolled her head, arching her neck to give him better access. He sank into her, relishing the feel of her body against his. Her body was lithe and toned, but she was soft and curvy where it counted, and undeniably feminine.

Luscious. He wanted to dive into her, and not come up for air. He slid his hands down her arms, feeling the shape of her limbs through her lightweight jacket. She sighed, then inhaled, her breasts pressing firmer against his chest, against the chain he wore. He smiled as her legs widened, and he rolled his hips against hers. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, then delved into his hair, her short nails scoring in a delicious, sensual massage against his scalp. He was as hard as granite, utterly consumed by the need to have this woman.

He trailed his hands down to cup her breasts, and she moaned, flexing her hips against his in response. His need to have her grew. He molded the soft flesh in his hands, taking his time to learn their weight, their shape, her nipples pressing into his palms like hard little studs. He was about to combust. She dragged her nails down his back, and he shuddered in ecstasy.

“Trinity.” That’s what the boy had called her. Trinity. He tasted the name on his lips. He liked it. He rubbed his erection against her, trying to alleviate the pressure, the ache, but her heat increased, as did his need for her. She stiffened beneath him.

“God, what am I doing?” she rasped.

“Getting to know me,” he said as he nuzzled her neck.

“No.”

“Are you sure? It damn well feels like it. Your hands are in my pants.”

Her hands clenched, her nails digging into his buttocks where they’d slid beneath the band of his trousers. Then she pulled them out as though they were burning. “Holy smoke,” she whispered.

He groaned. He was burning. A molten mess of burning need. For her. For Trinity. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this intense desire, this consuming drive to become part of another lycan. Not even with Cara.

He rose to his feet, grasping the tracker and dragging her up to stand. He held her close, peering into her eyes. They weren’t cold and steely anymore; they were dark and turbulent, full of stunned dismay and smoking-hot desire. His eyes narrowed. She’d made him burn, damn it.

Nobody made him burn. He took pride in his self-control, in his self-imposed punishment, and all it took was one tackle with this she-wolf and he was ready to forget everything, forget his plans, forget Jared, forget the rest of the pack that looked to him to avenge their alpha prime’s death. All for a roll with the enemy.

He nudged her in the direction Zane had taken with the boy. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Trin resisted, turning back to face him again. She stared at the muscled figure for a moment, her body humming. Holy smoke, indeed. Like his friend, this lycan wore only a pair of low-riding camouflage pants, the button undone, revealing a tantalizing patch of golden skin before the fabric covered a noticeable bulge that seemed to match in scale the rest of him. She’d thought the other lycan was big. Good grief. This lycan towered over her, his shoulders so broad and thickly roped with muscle. Smudges of dirt and blood covered him, his short white-blond hair a stark contrast against the tanned skin and dirt. His eyes, staring back at her so solemnly, were a beautiful green.

He was beautiful. She should have been grossed out by the gore and filth, but there was something so magnetic, so charismatic, that all she could see were those beautiful green eyes, that stunning chest. He wore a gold chain around his neck, a ring resting in the dip between his chest muscles. Perspiration slicked his skin, turning his pectoral muscles and deeply-ridged six-pack into a shiny playground begging for a woman’s fingers. Her fingers. Her gaze dipped. He had an old scar that slashed across his abdomen, yet it only added to the sexy, dangerous air about him. He was muscled and toned everywhere, no spare fat. She sucked in her breath. She’d seen some good-looking lycans, but she’d never had such a bone-deep, compelling reaction to anyone before. At least, not in her pack.

But he was Alpine, and he was here, in Woodland territory. She wasn’t quite sure of the details, but she wasn’t stupid. That howl to war had everything to do with the man in front of her. She released her breath, letting it out slowly, grabbing on to some measure of calm.

“Who are you?” She took a step back, trying to put some distance, some perspective, between them. Good grief, he was Alpine. She should be howling to the skies, calling her pack—not that any would be racing to rescue her, with her current standing within the group, but still, she should be raising an alarm, and doing her utmost to fight him. Although, he was such a massive unit, and she was just a tracker; she didn’t like the odds of facing him down. Jax. She had to get back to Jax, get him to the safety of their den, such as it was with Rafe in charge.

“Matthias Marshall,” he said, inclining his head.

Cold crept over her shoulders, despite the jacket and the heat generated from their physical tussle.

“You’re Alpine’s guardian prime,” she said, eyeing the woods. Of all the damn lycans to run into, this one had to be the worst. The calm she’d so carefully manufactured now fled. She knew of his reputation—hell, all of Woodland had been talking of nothing else since that communication came through yesterday. He’d sworn vengeance against Woodland Pack for their part in the murder of his alpha prime, Jared Gray. He’d successfully applied to enforce tribal law against Woodland, and so far he’d made their lives difficult. Uncomfortable. Borderline hell. She swallowed. And now he stood before her, all six feet three inches of vengeful, ruthless, sexy—no, damn it—relentless and pumped-up guardian.

“And you’re the infamous Woodland tracker,” he commented, folding his arms.

She swallowed again. He knew who she was. She didn’t really want him to know who she was. She lived a largely anonymous life within her pack, had gotten used to being ignored. He wasn’t ignoring her, though. He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her closely.

“I’m surprised they let you out unguarded,” he murmured.

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t they? I’m a tracker.” Her position within the pack implied a certain level of competency with looking after herself. Of course, when faced with this hulking guardian prime, she wasn’t sure if even Woodland’s first-tier guardians could match him. “Besides, we’re not expecting Alpine to trespass,” she said pointedly as she folded her arms, mimicking his stance. “You and your men need to leave.” With the current tensions between the packs, their presence would start a fight that would quickly escalate, considering her alpha prime’s easy-to-fire temper.

She lifted her chin. “It’s not safe for you here. Let the boy go, leave the area and I’ll allow you the opportunity to retreat.” Rafe would probably have her hide for letting them go, but her goal was to protect the rest of the pack. Having these lycans in Woodland territory—especially this guardian prime—would result in a fight, perhaps even a war, and she didn’t want her pack hurt. Judging by the size of this lycan, there would be many casualties.

Matthias arched an eyebrow. “You’ll allow me the opportunity to retreat?” His breathless chuckle was incredulous, then he stopped laughing. He unfolded his arms and strode toward her, stalking her as she tried to back away. She halted when her back bumped into a tree. “I’m not trespassing,” he grated as he came up close to her, bracing his hands against the trunk, enclosing her in a confined space within his arms. His broad chest pressed against hers, trapping her against the tree. This lycan had no concept of personal space. She lifted her gaze from the muscled shoulders, the defined biceps that cut off any avenue of escape. She took a deep breath, and was surprised by how pleasing his scent was, all mossy and pine, with a hint of something deeper, a musk that was all enticingly male. His expression was harsh as he glared down at her.

“My men and I came here under parley,” he growled, his eyes flashing. “We came to talk. Your alpha prime broke parley and attacked.”

She shook her head, a frown pinching her forehead. “We wouldn’t...” her voice trailed off. Actually, knowing Rafe, he probably would. His impetuous actions were what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. But to break parley, to violate discussions under truce—that was an act of dishonor. She couldn’t accept that her pack would behave like that. “No...” she said, shaking her head.

He nodded. “Yes. And you know what that means, don’t you, Tracker?”

She swallowed. It meant pack war. It meant that borders would not be respected. It meant attacks and assaults, until one pack submitted to the other. It meant many lives were at risk.

He’d already managed to halt their supplies, and winter was coming. How long would they be able to hold out? They would grow hungry, they would weaken, but her pack would fight to the death before they surrendered. Rafe would see to it.

“You can stop this,” she said, striving for calm in the face of his brutal intention. “We are the same tribe. We have young, we have old—just like Alpine. What you have planned... This will ruin our pack, and it could ruin yours. Is that what you want? To kill families?”

Something flickered in his gaze, something dark, pained and sad, but then it was gone as he blinked. He shook his head as he leaned closer. “You’ve brought this upon yourselves.”

He was so big he loomed over her, crowding her. All glorious golden skin and brittle eyes. But she was a former Scion, damn it. The daughter of an alpha prime. She would not be cowed. She shoved at him, with the result of him moving not at all. She didn’t think her effort even registered with him. She tilted her head back against the rough bark of the tree.

“What happened to your alpha prime—I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “It wasn’t—nice.” No. It wasn’t nice at all. Jared Gray’s murder in a dentist’s chair had sent shock waves throughout the tribes, for a leader to be killed that way. But the dentist had maintained his innocence, and it wasn’t until her own alpha prime had coordinated the abduction of the dentist and his half-blood vampire lawyer from Nightwing territory that she and most of her pack learned of their involvement in the event.

Matthias’s eyes rounded. “Not nice? Well, that’s one way of putting it. Not nice.” He shook his head, then tugged on her belt and hauled her close to him. “Your pack wounded mine. Your pack killed my alpha prime, and now your pack will pay for it.”

She tried to wriggle away from him, but he started to unbuckle her belt. Panic shot through her, and she shook her head. “No,” she gasped, trying to halt his efforts. He was so big, so strong, and she could feel the anger roiling beneath him, as though all it would take was the faintest spark to unleash the fire of his fury. “Please, no.” She tried to escape, but he pulled her back. She felt the tug on her belt, then the release as the clasp was undone, and the leather slid out of the loops of her jeans. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Rape won’t solve anything,” she gasped as he grabbed her wrists.

He froze, then lifted his gaze from where he clasped her, the surprise in his face dissolving into an exasperation tinged with hurt.

“I’m not— I wouldn’t—” He snapped his lips shut for a moment, his eyebrows golden slashes pulling into the center of his forehead. She could see he’d taken offense to her words. She gaped at him. Was that...was that a blush?

“I don’t force myself onto women,” he said with a quiet dignity. He wrapped the belt around her left wrist, his pec muscles rippling with the movement, then looped it around his right wrist, securing it so that they were belted together. He held their bound wrists up between them. “But I will do whatever it takes to make Woodland pay for what they did to us, and you’re going to help.”

He tugged her farther into the forest. If they didn’t have Jax, she would have fought. As it was, the thought of the young boy had her reluctantly following him.

Chapter 4

Matthias looked to the opposite side of the fire, watching the tracker offer the boy some cooked rabbit. She’d followed him without resistance, but he didn’t fool himself. The reason she’d been so cooperative was currently sitting right beside her, her arm curled protectively around him.

The firelight glimmered against the copper strands in her hair, bathing her features in a soft glow as she said something that made the boy laugh. She smiled, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she glanced about the campsite, her gaze assessing. For a brief moment their eyes met, and then she looked away. He frowned. He was still stunned, and slightly abashed, that she’d thought he’d force himself on her. That had hurt. That and the fact that she now tried to shield the boy from him and his lycans. The young pup shot him a curious glance, and he winked. He was rewarded with a tentative smile.

He knew what she thought, what she feared, and was willing to use it to his advantage. But there was no way he would ever hurt a pup. Nor would he hurt a woman. Sure, his physical reaction to her was...intense, but he’d never physically force a woman to submit to him. Hell, he hadn’t been remotely interested in a woman since—well, not in a long time. Something about this tracker, though, made him forget his control, forget his own rules, forget that which drove him hardest. He glanced around the campsite, at the lycans who had accepted him into their den, into their pack, and who now looked to him for leadership. When Jared had adopted him into Alpine Pack, nobody could have guessed he would one day become their guardian prime, but in the three years he’d lived with them, he had. He’d earned their trust and loyalty. He wouldn’t let them down. Not again.

Night had fallen, and he and his lycans had gathered at the meeting point. They were still in Woodland territory, but very close to the Nightwing border, and there was little chance of the Woodland shifters tracking them here, tonight. Woodland would have to tend to their injured and ensure their home den was secure before setting out to hunt for the Alpine guardians. He’d planned for a scattered retreat, and he and his guardians had laid plenty of false trails before finally descending upon their rendezvous point. He eyed the woman across the campsite. Holding the Woodland Tracker Prime would restrict their enemy’s ability to locate them—at least for a while.

Smokey rabbit and pine scented the air, along with the stringent scent of medicinal body rubs and antiseptic creams as the Alpine lycans tended to their injured. Fortunately that nose-burning smell masked the hypnotic fragrance of the woman who even now he couldn’t dislodge from his thoughts. She was delectable. He could lose himself in her scent, in her body—and that made him equal parts angry and scared as a day-old pup caught in a summer storm.

A movement caught his eye, and he looked up. Zane was trying to catch his attention. He walked around to his second-in-command, stopping to chat with some of the injured guardians. Fortunately there were no deaths in today’s skirmish—but it wasn’t for lack of trying on Woodland’s part. Today, Alpine had retreated. His lips pressed into a firm line. His expectations for the outcome of talks hadn’t been high, but damn, things had gone haywire. He didn’t think highly of Rafe Woodland, yet had still been surprised when the alpha prime had attacked under parley. He smiled. He didn’t mind. They now had just cause to launch attack after attack on the enemy pack.

Zane beckoned him over to the pickup truck parked a short distance away from the camp. Matthias caught the eye of Kai, one of his guardians, and gestured toward the tracker. He didn’t want her to think this was an opportunity to escape. Kai nodded and casually strolled to take up a position behind Trinity and the boy.

“What’s up?” he asked Zane as he met him and Nate Baxter, another first-tier guardian and valued sergeant, at the pickup.

Zane rolled out a map onto the hood of the car, and clicked on his flashlight. “You were right. Woodland has gone to ground. Nate and a couple of the others tried to track them, but they’ve disappeared.”

Nate sighed. “Like ghosts. Poof.”

Matthias took the flashlight and scanned the map, then frowned. He shook his head. “Are you sure this is the most current map?”

Zane nodded, his lips pursed. “Yeah. I know all the packs like to keep some of their trails hidden, but Woodland takes secrecy to a new level.”

“I even cross-checked with satellite imagery,” Nate said. “The trees effectively mask many of their trails. This is the best we can get.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the document. “Rafe Woodland doesn’t trust easily.”

“Rafe Woodland doesn’t trust at all,” Zane muttered. “We’d do well to remember that. Someone who doesn’t trust easily isn’t trustworthy, as he proved today. Although that tracker could prove useful...” His voice trailed off in suggestion.

Matthias kept his eyes glued to the map, and merely grunted a response. He’d been thinking of little else since he’d dragged her into camp late that afternoon. That woman, that...she-wolf. Her long legs, narrow waist, and gentle swell of hip and breast—she was beautiful, in a lithe, natural kind of way. There was something about her that called to him, that stirred his beast, that tightened his body with a need he didn’t appreciate and could barely control.

“You two certainly had an—intimate—connection,” Zane drawled, leaning his hip against the truck.

“Oh, really?” Nate inquired. Matthias fought the inclination to growl at his pack mates. He wasn’t in the mood for any of their teasing.

Zane nodded. “Oh, yeah. Thought he was going to imprint on her,” he admitted in a stage whisper to Nate.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s more than he’s done with any of our pack,” Nate murmured.

This time Matthias did growl, the sound low and soft yet nonetheless clear in its warning.

Nate folded his arms and looked expectantly at Matthias. “You say so much when you say nothing, Matt.”

Matthias shook his head, his lips tight. “She’s Woodland.” That pretty much said it all. Her pack had conspired to kill his friend.

Zane shrugged. “She’s hot.”

“That she is,” Nate commented, his tone light with interest, and it was all Matthias could do to stop the snarl forming in his throat.

Zane nodded, then glanced back at Matthias. “Two months ago you were the guardian to stop us all going on a pack hunt, Matt—no matter how much I tried to convince you. I would have thought you, of all people, would be prepared to overlook her...shortcomings.”

This time Matthias did look up at his friend. Zane had this knack for making him feel ancient. His friend liked to act now, and think through things later. Maybe. Matthias had never thought he’d be the cautious one, the voice of reason, but he’d learned his lessons the hard way. Sometimes it paid to do the homework.

“I stopped the pack hunt because we didn’t know what we were up against—we still don’t know,” he said in a low voice. “Woodland haven’t welcomed visitors in years, not since their previous alpha prime died. We have no idea how strong they are, how many there are or how they act. Hell, we can’t even get an accurate map of their territory. We learned today that observing the normal rules of engagement won’t work with Woodland. We’ll fight, but we’ll be smart about it.”

Zane frowned. “They killed Jared. They all deserve to die.”

“And that’s why I’m guardian prime, and you’re not,” Matthias said shortly, then leaned forward, crossing his arms over the hood of the pickup. “Just a minute ago you were commenting on the sexy Woodland tracker, now you want me to kill her? What about the pups? Would you kill them? The juveniles? The elders?”

Zane looked down at the toes of his boots. “Of course not.”

“We want them to pay, though,” Nate said quietly.

Matthias nodded. “Hell, yeah. Jared was a good man, and a great alpha. He didn’t deserve to die, not that way.”

When the conspiracy between Woodland Pack and one of Irondell’s so-called pillars of society, Arthur Armstrong, was revealed, it had been all he could do to keep the Alpine pack from wreaking revenge on Woodland, Nightwing and Irondell—an act that would have cost them dearly.

Armstrong was currently rotting in a prison cell, but Woodland Pack’s involvement meant a crime was committed by lycan against lycan, and justice came under tribal jurisdiction. It was Alpine’s privilege—and duty—to serve justice to those within the pack responsible for the murder of their alpha.

So it didn’t matter how hot, how sexy, how damn desirable their tracker was, she was the enemy. If she was in any way involved, she would pay, along with the rest of her pack.

“I’ll be the first one to admit I want blood for blood for Jared’s death,” he said in a low voice. He shifted his gaze between Zane and Nate. “And I’ll do whatever it takes, but no justice is served if we kill any innocents. It wouldn’t honor Jared.”

Both men dropped their gazes, but he could see he was getting through to them.

“For the record, I said she was hot. You’re the one that came up with sexy,” Zane grumbled.

Matthias decided to ignore that. He turned to Nate. “You saw the numbers Rafe Woodland had at his disposal. We’re going to need reinforcements. Go back home and call up another guardian squad, but make sure there are still some left behind at Alpine. I don’t want Samantha left vulnerable.”

As Jared’s pregnant widowed mate, Samantha Alpine had stepped into the alpha prime role in Alpine Pack when her partner was killed. Not many knew of the discussion she’d had with him prior to doing so. Nobody else knew she’d offered him the prime position. He clenched his teeth. He couldn’t accept, though. He had been Jared’s guardian prime, and Jared had died under his service. He wasn’t fit to be an alpha prime, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to leave Samantha defenseless while he avenged his alpha’s death.

“Do you think a squad is enough?” Zane asked, his brow furrowing.

Matthias grinned. “Sometimes you need a better weapon than sheer brawn,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder at Trinity, now playing a game in the dirt with the pup.

Zane sighed. “Fine. So we have the Woodland tracker—what if we use her as a bargaining chip? Exchange the tracker for the alpha prime?”

Matthias had to clamp down on his instinctive refusal. It was reflexive and purely selfish. He wanted to spend more time with the tracker, although Zane’s proposition had merit. If Woodland’s alpha prime agreed, then it would mean limiting the risk of casualties and deaths on both sides. And it meant that the alpha prime could save face. He’d be saving one of his own, an honorable surrender.

He sighed. “Fine. Send a message through to Woodland proposing the exchange. In the meantime, let’s get those extra guardians down here.” He glanced at Nate, who nodded.

“How are we going to get the squad through Summercliffe? That’s Nightwing territory. I know Marchetta’s granted us access, but don’t you think she’ll balk at the number of wolves going through her zone?”

“I’ve already negotiated with Vivianne,” he stated, and didn’t hide his distaste. The woman was a shrewd bloodsucker, as powerful as she was coldly beautiful, but his skin had crawled at having to do business with the vamp. “She’ll let you through.”

Nate grimaced. “What’s the deal?”

“Nightwing are allowing us safe access, on the condition that none of their vamps are harmed by any werewolf. In return they get one percent of the iron mine’s royalties for the next one hundred years.”

Zane shook his head. “I’d prefer to just bite them.”

Matthias smiled grimly. “Well, I did offer that, too. We don’t have the manpower to wage a war against Woodland and the vamps. Let’s keep it friendly with our neighbors for as long as we can.”

“One percent, huh?” Nate shook his head. “I hate doing business with the bloodsuckers, but even I can see that’s pretty reasonable for them to allow us through—considering all we’d have to do is bite them and it’s lights-out for the vampires. What’s the catch?”

Matthias shook his head. “There’s no catch. That dentist and his lawyer were snatched by Woodland guardians from Nightwing territory. Either Marchetta is slipping and her borders are getting lax, or she gave them access so they could try and cover up Jared’s murder. Either way, she owes us.”

Zane chuckled. “I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when you told her that.”

Matthias shuddered. “Ugh, no. Trust me. Marchetta is definitely a cold-blooded bitch. Fortunately, not all of the Nightwing vamps are so difficult to deal with. Vassi Verity was part of the negotiations.”

“Verity? Isn’t she that vamp lawyer who defended the dentist?” Nate asked, frowning.

Matthias nodded. “Yeah, she and Ryder Galen uncovered Rafe’s part in Jared’s murder. She works for Marchetta now.”

Zane shook his head. “Pity. I thought she was half-decent. Now she’s one of the devil’s minions.”

Matthias shook his head. He’d met Vassi in her efforts to clear her client’s name. She might be a vamp, but she was a decent one. “Vassi is fair. She’ll do her best to keep the devil honest.”

“Didn’t she and the dentist end up together?” Nate asked, rubbing his chin.

Matthias nodded. “Yep. She reminded me that his offer to assist us still stands. I think we can manage, though.”

He jerked his chin back to the map. “We need to find the den. The best way to stop this war before it starts in earnest is to take Rafe Woodland.”

“Then the legendary Woodland tracker will most definitely come in handy,” Zane commented.

Matthias nodded as he rolled up the map. “Tomorrow, we’ll get her to show us the way.”

* * *

When a shadow fell over the track she’d drawn in the dirt, Trinity used her boot to scuff the markings she’d drawn for Jax before looking up.

Oh. It was him.

She should have known. Her heart was pounding, and she tried to convince herself that it was probably fear and wariness. She would not accept that she was feeling any kind of sexual attraction that was making her senses go on full alert.

“Come with me,” he told her brusquely, holding out his hand. He’d cleaned himself up, his chest bearing some slight grazes, and his scar that slashed across his abdomen shone silver against his golden skin. The chain he wore glinted with each movement, drawing her gaze to his chest. Darn it. For once a bare-chested lycan caused her to feel self-conscious—and incredibly conscious of said lycan. She rose to her feet, brushing the dust off her jeans and ignoring the outstretched hand. He’d returned her belt as soon as they’d reached camp, and hadn’t come close to her since, a fact that she’d noted with something that bordered on disappointment. She folded her arms. No. She couldn’t be disappointed, shouldn’t be disappointed. She knew she’d offended him with her remark, but she’d been taken by surprise. Lycans liked to get physical. Touching, stroking, wrestling...but she hadn’t been touched, stroked or wrestled with by another adult lycan in what seemed like an age.

His contact, and her reaction, had stunned her. Her lips pressed together tightly. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d shared contact with her pack, or how desperate and vulnerable their not-so-subtle shunning had made her. But she was stronger than most thought, and she wasn’t about to let the guardian prime of an enemy pack turn her head. Nope.

“Where are we going?” she asked, trying to match his brusque tone. She wasn’t about to leave Jax alone. She had no doubt that he was physically safe, and the kid was treating this somewhat like an unplanned adventure. But she wasn’t about to surrender him to Alpine. She would protect him until she could get him home to his mom.

Matthias indicated one of the makeshift tents that had been set up a distance from the fire. “The boy is tired. It’s time he retired for the night.”

She glanced down at Jax, who shook his head. “I’m not tir—” he was interrupted by a large yawn “—tired.”

Matthias’s lips lifted in a smile, and she was surprised by the gentle humor she saw in his expression.

“You’ve had a big day, pup, and tomorrow will be even bigger when your tracker shows us the way to your home,” he stated, his green eyes flicking up to her with grim intent before his gaze returned to the young boy. “You’re going to need some rest.”

Trinity dropped her gaze. She was expected to save the boy by betraying her pack. Like that was going to happen. The guardian prime didn’t need to know he’d chosen the wrong she-wolf to abandon her family. She knew what her pack mates thought, but despite everything, she would not break trust with Woodland. She had a lot to make up for.

Matthias led them over to the tent and lifted the flap, gesturing inside. She eyed him. “Where are you sleeping?” If he thought he could pull some more of that alpha woo-hoo on her and have her panting for him, he had another think coming. There were always alphas in a pack, mostly serving the alpha prime as a guardian, and she’d dealt with her fair share of them. He may be the most charismatic alpha she’d ever met, but she could control herself. She could—would—resist.

His lips lifted in a wickedly sensual grin. “Oh, you are not leaving my sight, tracker.” She kept telling herself she would resist. He leaned down to wink at Jax. “We’ll keep her safe, won’t we?”

Jax nodded, a smile on his face as he darted behind the tent flap. Trinity’s brows dipped. Since they’d arrived in camp, Jax had actually relaxed. The other guardians had treated him kindly, gently. She was surprised. She didn’t want to think how her own alpha prime would have behaved under similar circumstances.

“After you,” Matthias said, extending his hand toward the tent flap. Her eyes narrowed, and she shot him a steely glare in warning. If he tried anything...

As though reading her mind, he frowned. “I won’t touch you. We all need to sleep, and I don’t want to have to set guardians to watching you when they could be resting.” He folded his arms, and the action added bulk to his shoulders. “For what it’s worth, my pack didn’t kill another’s alpha prime, nor did we break parley. Woodland are the ones who act without honor, not Alpine.”

Trinity’s cheeks warmed at the words, and she ducked her head and entered the tent to hide her embarrassment. All her life, she’d been taught to take pride in her pack, to be loyal, and to walk with honor. Matthias’s words brought shame on her pack, shame on her. She didn’t raise her head once she was inside the tent. She hadn’t thought she could possibly live with more shame but, well, Matthias had proved there was always room for more.

She hustled over to the far side of the tent, around the curled-up figure of Jax. He smiled at her sleepily, then his smile broadened when Matthias swept into the tent. She made herself comfortable, scooting as far away as she could from the large alpha as he took up a position lying across the front of the tent—effectively blocking any attempt to leave it.

He lay on his side, his arm pillowing his head, and for a moment she couldn’t help herself. She stared at him, at the bunched biceps, broad shoulders and muscled chest, his pants loose and comfortable and low on his hips.

When her gaze rose to his face, she realized he was staring at her, and the smoldering heat in his eyes called to an answering warmth deep within her. His regard was unsettling, patient and dark with sensual intent. She swallowed and lay down, rolling to face away from him. Even though she closed her eyes and had her back to him, she could still feel his gaze on her. The knowledge that he was prepared to watch her sleep set her heart pumping, and the muscles in her arm tightened with tension. She didn’t think she’d be getting much sleep at all tonight. She sucked in her breath as she heard him shift position behind her.

She was attracted to the guardian.

Chapter 5

Matthias stiffened, his senses on alert as he awoke to the eerie sensation of someone watching him.

He slowly opened his eyes, then blinked, rearing his head back a little to allow his eyes to focus. Two blue eyes, innocent and watchful, hovered an inch from his face.

“I need to pee,” Jax whispered.

Matthias blinked again, then nodded. “Okay,” he whispered back.

He rolled to a sitting position, and looked at the other side of the tent. It was still dimly lit inside, but he could make out her form. The tracker lay curled up on her side, as though she was trying to roll into herself. Her chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm, and his lips tilted at the softest snore she emitted. She’d turned over during the night, and now lay facing him, her face softened and flushed with sleep.

Something unfurled deep inside him, a warmth that battled momentarily between lust and protectiveness, and he was surprised when his urge to safeguard won. He didn’t want to care. It felt wrong, to Alpine, but most of all to Cara. He backed out of the tent without his usual grace, anxious to get away from the threat to his peace of mind. Outside, the night sky was lightening to a golden gray, and most of his guardians still slept.

“Come on,” Matthias said to the kid, jerking his head toward a trail. He walked toward the ring of trees, and startled when a little hand slid in to hold his own. For a moment, something hard and brittle rose within, but when he looked down, that brittleness shattered when Jax looked up at him and smiled.

“Can we go hunt?” the boy asked.

Matthias arched an eyebrow. “I thought you needed to pee.”

“Then can we hunt?” Jax asked eagerly. He dodged a branch, pulling down on Matthias’s hand as he jumped over it. “I didn’t break it,” he told Matthias proudly.

He frowned. He had no idea what the kid was going on about. “Didn’t break what?”

“The branch.” Jax ducked around another one. “Trin says the less you break, the harder it is to track you.”

“Really? What else does Trin say?” He kept his tone casual as he led the boy over to a tree, and gestured, turning his back to go and relieve himself a little distance away. He couldn’t deny that he was fascinated by the tracker.

“She says the forest can be your friend.”

“Uh-huh.” He supposed a tracker would see it like that.

“She says not to hit Mia, even if she’s asking for it.”

Matthias finished zipping up his pants and waited for the boy to join him. “Who’s Mia?”

Jax frowned. “She’s in my class, but she’s mean. She’s always going on about her dad.”

“Why is that a problem?” Matthias asked as he led the boy through some more trees, until he reached the bank of a river. He could smell the sweet scent of the water, and they both knelt down. Matthias leaned forward to wash his hands.

“She’s always rubbing it in, that’s all,” Jax muttered, his lips turned down in a pout. An air of sadness crept over the little boy, one that Matthias didn’t fully understand but could easily recognize.

“What does your dad say about it?” he asked quietly, and found himself thinking for the first time what the boy’s parents must be going through, with their pup held by a warring pack, what Trinity’s family would be experiencing. He could easily remember that panic, that agonizing, gut-wrenching dread that could be so consuming as to drive all rational thought out of a parent’s mind.

“My dad’s dead,” Jax said quietly.

Matthias paused, then sank back on his haunches. “How long?”

Jax shrugged. “Not long.”

“And your mother?” Matthias found himself asking, a little knot of tension solidifying like a stone deep in his gut.

Jax blinked and ducked his head. “She’s sad.”

Relief, slow and cool, swamped the stone to bury it. At least he still had his mom. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at the sandy-haired boy. “It’s hard when you lose family.” He almost rolled his eyes. What a damned understatement. He tried again. “I mean, I get it.”

Jax lifted his head to look at him, his eyes luminous with unshed tears. Something passed between them, a recognition of shared misery that traversed ages.

Jax nodded, then blinked furiously as he looked down at the rippling waters of the river. Matthias didn’t know what made him do it, but he flicked a small amount of water at the boy. Jax squealed as he leaned back, gasping at the chill of the water, and Matthias smiled.

“This river comes down from my territory,” he told the boy. “It tastes good, too.”

He leaned over to scoop some water up in his hand and took a few sips. Jax watched for a moment, then tried to do the same. Matthias’s arm flashed out and caught the back of his sweater as the boy nearly toppled into the river. “Like this,” he said, and showed the boy where to plant his feet, then nodded approvingly when Jax successfully sipped water from his own cupped hands. “Good job.”

He sat back against the sandy bank, drawing his legs up and resting his arms loosely across the tops of his knees. The river flowed quietly past, with an occasional gurgle as it tumbled over rocks. The sky was turning a peachy orange as the sun began to creep over the tops of the mountains in the distance, and birds twittered as they swooped down for a drink.

Matthias sighed. He enjoyed this time of the day, so peaceful. So tranquil. It gave him a chance to breathe, to thin—

“Oof,” he wheezed as a little body launched at his back. Jax held on with his legs, his hands covering Matthias’s eyes from behind.

“Gotcha,” the boy chortled.

Matthias twisted, pulling the boy up over his shoulders and flipping him over, making sure he landed on his feet. For a few moments they wrestled, and Matthias enjoyed hearing the boy’s giggles. The memories they brought forth were bittersweet, but today, they were bearable.

He smelled her before he heard her, turning around as Trinity burst through the reeds that lined the river. Her panicked gaze subsided into relief when she saw Jax was safe and sound and doing his best to trip Matthias over. Zane crashed through the undergrowth behind her, his gaze fierce until he saw his guardian prime. Matthias set the boy back a little, and adopted a stern expression. Jax grinned back as he turned to face his teacher, breathless.

“Good morning,” Matthias said smoothly, folding his arms.

“Hey, Trin,” Jax said, giving her a little wave.

“Jax, I was worried about you,” she said, and Matthias could hear the edge in her voice. He arched his brow.

“He was with me,” he told her. That should have soothed her fears. She glanced away, toward the river, as though trying to hide her reaction.

“I needed to pee,” Jax told her.

She nodded, holding up her hand. “Fine. Just—just don’t go anywhere without telling me, okay, Jax?” He nodded, running over to hug her. She sighed as she bent down to enfold her arms around him, and smiled at the lad. “You are giving me gray hairs, boy,” she said, and ruffled his sandy-blond hair.

“Jax, go back to camp with Zane. He’ll get you something to eat,” Matthias said, and Zane nodded, then reached out to take the boy’s hand. Trinity turned to follow, but Matthias shook his head. “No, you can stay.”

She halted, gazing after the boy for a moment. Jax started asking Zane questions, and Matthias had to fight the smile as he heard them chattering back to camp. Well, Jax was chattering, and Zane was responding with monosyllabic grunts. When Trinity turned to face him, he quickly masked his smile beneath a determined frown.

“We need to talk.”

* * *

Trinity gazed back out over the river, for once not really noticing the beauty of the unfolding sunrise. She scanned the opposite side of the river. The ground rose sharply into a craggy bluff. On the other side lay Nightwing, and just beyond that, the rising rain forest that gave way to the Alpine territory. The ridge dipped and rose, a natural border between werewolves and vampires. And yet, their enemy had still managed to camp in Woodland.

She hugged herself tightly before turning to face Matthias. “What?” she asked, impatient. She didn’t care how rude she sounded. She wanted to go back to Jax. She’d been so worried for him when she’d awoken alone in the tent. To find him playing with the guardian prime—well, she was still trying to process that one. He stared at her with that green, enigmatic gaze, the one that seemed to elevate her heart rate, curl her toes and reach in and stir the ashes of arousal. He was so intense, so unashamed by his curiosity of her. He didn’t try to hide his keen interest at all, as he tilted his head, surveying her.

“You really were worried for him,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowed.

She frowned. “Of course I was. I had no idea where he was, where you were.”

“Your concern is like that of a parent, yet you’re not his mother,” he observed. The muscles in her shoulders tightened.

“Jax has had a rough time lately.”

Matthias nodded. “He told me. How did his father die?”

Sadness fluttered around her. Jax’s father’s death was unnecessary and avoidable, and marked one of those times when her pack didn’t behave nicely. “He was killed by the dentist,” she admitted quietly. The man wrongly accused of killing his alpha, the one Rafe had used to hide his own involvement in the crime.

Matthias dipped his head, and the sun peeked over the edge of the ridge, bathing him in a golden light tinged with rose. He was silent for a moment, then grimaced. “His mother isn’t coping?”

Trinity shook her head, surprised at his interest. “She’s pining.” She leaned down and picked a flat stone off the sandy bank, hefting it in her hand. “She’s got an adoring son, and she’s locking herself up in her room.” Trinity hurled the stone and it landed in the river with a distinct plunk. She’d seen it before. Some lycans never recovered from the loss of their mate, gradually fading into the shadows until they finally passed, joining their loved one on the Other Side.

“She’s mourning,” Matthias said, and picked up a stone.

“Well, she should get over it,” Trinity muttered as she located another rock to hurl. She knew she sounded harsh, but she didn’t care. The old anger and frustration rose swiftly, and her fingers tightened around the unforgiving stone in her hand.

Matthias frowned at her. “Sometimes it’s not that easy, especially if they were mates.” He threw the stone, and it skipped a few times across the river before falling below the surface.

Trinity cursed softly as she turned on her side and flung the stone. “The amount of times I’ve heard that as an excuse for giving up.” Tears itched below her eyelids, and she blinked. Damn it, she was over it now. That was all water under the bridge. “Losing a mate shouldn’t have to mean losing yourself, especially if a child is depending on you.”

He laughed, but she couldn’t hear any humor in the sound. “Says someone who has never had a mate, obviously.”

“Why would you want one?” she exclaimed softly, and her shoulders sagged. “Jax has lost his father, and his mother doesn’t see him.” She shook her head. No pup should feel invisible.

“Maybe you should cut her some slack,” Matthias suggested, his tone dark. “You can’t know what she’s going through. Give her some time.”

Anger seared through her. She’d heard that before, too. And all her teenage years hadn’t been enough time for healing. Trinity frowned as she faced him. “Why are you defending her? Why do you care? She’s the enemy, remember. You’re Alpine.”

Matthias placed his hands on his hips as he faced her, his frown harsh. “And yet I’m not the one who sounds heartless right now.”

Shock at his words snapped at her heart. Heartless? He had no idea what he was talking about. She cared. She cared deeply; she cared so much it damn well hurt. She’d seen loss, she’d felt so much stupid, cruel loss, and she’d seen senseless loss. Pining was senseless to her. It was a slow, painful form of suicide. The ring against his chest glinted as he turned to face the river, the muscles in his jaw flickering as he bit down. He was angry?

She shook her head. “Is this what you wanted to talk about? Jax’s parents?” Surely the big, ruthless guardian prime had more important issues to involve himself with than a pup from the enemy pack.

He tightened his lips as though biting off a retort, then took a calming breath before he turned his head to look at her. Even now she could see the anger blazing in those green depths.

“How many day’s trek is it from here to the den?”

She sucked in a breath. Great. Now they were back to that. She almost preferred talking about that old chestnut, parents giving up on their children.

She gazed about the peaceful scene, so at odds with the turmoil inside her. Hell, what to tell him? She didn’t want to take him to the den—she couldn’t take him to the den. Not only because it would put her pack at risk, and she never wanted to do something like that, but also because her pack would never forgive her. She already had one sin, one shame darkening her standing within the pack. She lived in hope that one day they’d forgive her, that one day they would look at her, really look at her, and smile kindly.

But if she did this she’d be cast out of the pack, if any of them remained after a skirmish with the Alpine guardians.

“With Jax, and your wounded guardians, about three days trekking,” she lied.

His eyebrows rose. “That far? Why were you training the pups so far from home?”

Oops. Good point. It had only taken them a few hours yesterday to reach the Alpine camp. “It’s a Woodland tradition. When they turn four we do a training mission.” Well, that sounded lame, even to her own ears.

Matthias looked at her for a moment. Please buy it. Please buy it. He finally nodded. “Fine. We’ll head out after breakfast.”

He’d bought it. Great. Now she just had to figure out how to lose them.

* * *

Matthias trudged alongside Trinity. She’d set a grueling pace, and they’d been walking along the base of the ridge.

“When we get to the break in the hills, we’ll set up camp,” he told her, eyeing his guardians. Some were helping the injured, and while they were all fit, he didn’t want them tired if they met up with any Woodland guardians. They’d set up camp early and continue the next day after a full night’s rest. Like in the mountainous Alpine territory, the sun set early here in the Woodland mountains. It was already getting dark, although not once had Trinity complained about the hours they’d spent walking through the forest. It was almost as though she was used to day-long hikes in the woods.

She nodded and kept on walking, her eyes on the trail ahead. Well, he couldn’t see a trail, but somehow she managed to follow one through the trees. He looked back at Zane. His second-in-command looked pained as Jax chattered along beside him. The boy hadn’t stopped talking all day, unless it was to eat or drink. They’d each taken turns carrying the child, and the boy wasn’t shy with any of them. Matthias hid his smile. Hearing the young boy’s chirpy comments made him realize how much he missed the babble of a curious kid. His lips drooped. He couldn’t think along those lines, though. There was too much pain.

Speaking of pain...he glanced sideways at the tracker. She’d seemed so caring, so nurturing with the boy, yet her harsh remarks that morning about Jax’s mother had surprised him. He frowned. Could she really be that young, that inexperienced that she could think one could easily get over the death of a mate? Her words had ripped open old wounds for him. He could totally understand the desolation, the heartbreaking loneliness Jax’s mother must be feeling, the emptiness that had taken root in her soul at the death of her mate. How could Trinity not understand? Or at least empathize?

He frowned. Since when did he care about caring, for crud’s sake? What did it matter to him how naive and foolish the tracker seemed? He wondered, though, if she would have said the same things to him if she’d known of his history. He glanced around the guardians who marched along with him. Most of them knew, but even so, none of them knew all of the details, all of the tragic consequences. Even Jared hadn’t known the full story.

Would they view him differently if they knew? Would they still follow him so loyally, trust in him so blindly? He ducked his head. Would they think he wasn’t fit to be one of them?

Trinity stumbled a little, and cried out in pain. In a flash he reached for her, clasping her arm, and she startled, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, trying to keep the concern, the care out of his voice.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, I have a rock in my shoe.” She waved him on. “You go on. I’ll catch up. I just need to take my shoe off and tip it out.” She sat down on a fallen tree and slowly started to unlace her boot. He hesitated, and she raised an eyebrow. She gestured to the group of guardians following. “I’m not going to run, not with all you guys around.”

He shot her an exasperated look, then turned to lead on. Jax ran up to the tracker, his expression curious, and Zane tilted his head in relief as he caught up to Matthias.

“That kid is exhausting. He talks, and talks, and, well, talks.”

Matthias nodded as they approached a rocky outcropping. “It’s good that he feels comfortable to do that,” he told his guardian quietly.

Zane sighed. “Yeah, I guess. He’s so young, though. He wants to play a lot.”

“He’s a pup. That’s what they do.” He remembered a pup just like Jax, with sandy hair and a cheeky grin. They rounded the rocky edge, stepping into the gloom cast by the mountain’s shadow. Night was coming. A movement caught his eye, and Matthias put his hand out, halting Zane.

Deep in the shadows cast by the trees and the mountain behind them stood four men. All tall, all wearing dark clothes, with pale skin and the faint yet unmistakable scent of death.

Matthias’s lips curled. Vamps.

Chapter 6

Matthias narrowed his eyes as one of the vampires stepped forward.

“You’re trespassing,” the vamp said, baring his teeth. His incisors lengthened, and Matthias clenched his teeth as he looked up at the sky. The sun was setting, but here, in the shadows of the mountains, the night had already crept in.

“This is Woodland territory,” he growled at the vampire. “You’re the ones trespassing.”

The vampire smiled, his pale blue eyes lightening with satisfaction. “Actually, no. Woodland ends about two miles back that way, near that great big line of Douglas firs,” he said, waving toward the curve of the ridge. “After that, it’s Nightwing.”

Matthias glanced over his shoulder, frowning. But Trinity... There was no sign of the tracker, or Jax, and his lips tightened. That damned she-wolf. She’d led them into an ambush. They were trespassing. He hadn’t trusted her, and had suspected she was leading them astray, but he hadn’t expected her to employ such an effective strategy.

Zane growled next to him, and Matthias shook his head, holding up his hands in a nonthreatening manner. They were in the wrong, but they could salvage this, and walk away. Hopefully.

“Apologies. We thought we were still on Woodland. Don’t worry, we won’t stay. We’ll get out of your hair.”

He took a step back, but the lead vampire shook his head, making a tsking sound.

“You think that’s going to finish this? A bunch of mutts march through Nightwing, and you think you can just...walk away?” He gestured casually, rolling his wrist. His smile widened. “I don’t think so.”

Matthias frowned. “Well, I don’t care what you think, that’s the way it’s going to happen. Marchetta and I have an agreement. We don’t camp, but we have safe access.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. “I don’t recall agreeing to that at all.”

“Are you going to bail on a deal?” Zane growled from deep in his throat, taking a step forward.

The vampire sprang across the clearing, landing lightly and silently so that he stood toe-to-toe with Zane. “I made no deal.” He lashed out, catching Zane on the cheek with his fist.

His movement was like a signal to the three vampires standing behind him, and they launched themselves at the first row of guardians.

Matthias ducked a kick from one vampire, then flung his arm up to brace himself against the punch aimed at his head. Moving like lightning, and with exceptional strength, the vampires were formidable foes on a bad day. This seemed to be a good day.

Matthias grunted as a leg kicked him in the gut, but he stopped and grabbed the next kick to his head. “Don’t bite them,” he roared to his guardians, fury at limiting his lycans in such a way adding a brutality to his own actions. He twisted the leg in his grip, turning and yanking, grunting in satisfaction at the resulting snap of bone. He heard the grunts and cries of lycan and vampire alike as they fought in the glade.

He sprang at the lead vampire who had Zane’s neck twisted at an alarming angle. He used his full body weight to knock the vampire and Zane off their feet. Zane rolled and rose to his feet, stretching his neck. His friend bared his teeth, and Matthias gave the vampire a quick jab to the face before turning to hold his friend back.

“Let me at him,” Zane snarled, trying to force his way past Matthias.

“We can’t hurt them,” Matthias grated back calmly, then lifted his leg to strike out at an advancing vampire, catching him savagely in the groin before spinning and thrusting his foot into the vampire’s solar plexus, sending him flying back to hit the rock face behind them.

A hand grabbed onto his hair, but couldn’t find purchase in the short military cut. Matthias grabbed the hand and spun, dragging the vampire off his feet and over his shoulder. The lead vampire hit the ground with a loud thud, and his eyes flashed from pale blue to bloodred in the blink of an eye.

Matthias bared his teeth and lowered his head until he and the lead vampire were nose to nose. “I could bite you now and end this,” he grated, “but that would be going back on my deal I struck with Vivianne Marchetta, Vampire Prime, and as such is to be honored by all Nightwing vampires and Alpine lycans.” He glared at the vampire in warning.

The vampire’s eyelids flickered, and his lips curled in a sneer. “My sister is letting the dogs out?” He shook his head in disgust. “She wouldn’t,” he said through gritted teeth, his incisors gleaming white in the encroaching darkness. “My sister would not make a pact with the dogs.”

Matthias nodded. “She did. Alpine are allowed safe access through Nightwing until we resolve a little dispute with your neighbors. During that time, we don’t bite the dead.” He snapped his teeth in warning, then tilted his head to the side. “Lucien, I presume? You should pay your sister a visit.” He waited until the vampire nodded. “Yeah, you’ll find there have been a few changes since your last visit.”

He levered himself up and off the vampire, stepping back to allow him to gain his feet.

The vampire arched his back, leaping to his feet with a stealthy grace. “I’ll talk to my sister, mutt, but trust me, this little arrangement of yours—it’s not going to last. I don’t know what the hell she was thinking, letting the dogs stink up our land.”

Zane’s stalked forward, fists clenched. “You think we stink?”

Matthias edged between the two, not taking his eyes off the vamp. “Go talk to your sister. I’m sure she’ll explain everything. You might want to tell her you nearly started a war with the wolves,” he added. “Somehow I don’t think she’d appreciate your meddling.” He lifted his chin. “And the agreement stands until Vivianne says otherwise—in person.”

Lucien Marchetta glared first at him, then at Zane. “This isn’t over.” He beckoned his vampires. Two of them had to be helped, and Lucien tucked the arm of one of his injured comrades around his neck. “Now that I’m back in town, things are going to change,” he said, his voice low and menacing. Then as a group they jumped, landing lightly on the ridge above them, and then disappeared into the night.

Matthias turned to his guardians, surveying them. Apart from some scratches and bruises, they looked more pissed than hurt.

“Let’s go find the tracker.” He stormed past them to scan the forest. She was out there somewhere, the traitorous little tracker. He ignored the voice inside his head that reminded him she was doing what any other lycan would do to protect her pack, using every weapon at her disposal. Even though he’d suspected she was somehow trying to trick them, she’d lied to him, which made him angry—but he wasn’t sure if he was angry at her for lying to him, or at himself for not detecting it. She’d played him smart, and he could appreciate that, even respect it—but she’d risked his men, the lycans he was responsible for, and that made him angry. Okay, fine, he was maybe a little pissed she didn’t trust him, although God only knew why he thought she would...and therein lay that tiny little sting. She didn’t trust him, and he wanted her to. So yes, he was hurt, but anger was always a better way to get over it.

But damn it, if things had escalated with Lucien Marchetta, then he’d be facing a war with the vamps as well as Woodland. They jogged back the way they’d come, right up to that fallen tree she’d parked her butt on as she watched them walk into a trap. He’d had no idea there was a curve in the border here, or that they’d be venturing into Nightwing territory. He had to give credit where it was due, though; she was clever.

Zane came up beside him. “She did it on purpose.”

“Of course she did it on purpose. She doesn’t want us anywhere near her pack.” Damn it, the forest was dark, and as they all spread out and peered at the ground, looking for signs of their trail, he realized they were trying to find someone who was very adept at covering her tracks.

“I can’t find any sign of her or the boy,” Zane said, jogging up to him.

Matthias stood there for a moment, thinking. “We have no idea where the den is,” he murmured, “so no clue as to which direction they might be headed in.”

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the immediate area. With the sense of sight removed, his other senses deepened. He could hear the rustle of the leaves in the tree, the slight ruffle of wings in the branches above. A cool breeze caressed his shoulders, and something small and four-footed scampered away from his group.

There. Honeysuckle and vanilla. He lifted his nose, sniffing at the air. Yep. It was faint, and it was laced with pine, as though she’d tried to mask her scent, but he would sniff her out if she dosed herself in pepper.

“There,” he said, opening his eyes and pointing forward and slightly to the right.

Zane frowned. “How can you tell?”

“Can’t you smell her?” Even now, her fragrance curled inside him, arousing him, and stirring his beast.

Zane sniffed the air, then shook his head. “Nope. All I’ve got is pine.”

Matthias smiled grimly. “Then follow me.” He turned to the group. “The rest of you, set up camp near that dip in the ridge.”

He and Zane loped off into the forest. They’d gone maybe two hundred yards when Zane tripped over something on the ground. He swore and picked it up, leaning back so the muted moonlight could illuminate the object.

A boot. Her boot.

Three steps later, Matthias found its mate, and narrowing his eyes, he could see the dark shadow of a pair of jeans dumped at the base of a tree.

He toed off his shoes, his hands lowering his fly. “She’s shifted.” He pulled his pants off and handed them to his friend. “Follow the trail. They’re going to need their clothes.” Matthias turned and started to jog into the darkness, shifting into wolf form as he ran.

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