Hunter's Heart

Men streamed around the house, rifles poised, closing the gap.

“Dad gave it to me, but there’s not enough time—”

“The code, Daria!”

Daria punched in the numbers as he dropped to a crouch, tucking the pistol in his waistband and whipping the M16 off his back. So many of them. It struck her as pathetic, one lone man against August’s force. Like an ant biting an elephant.

Her mate fired several rounds and they responded in kind. She hit the ground with him, praying as the pop and groan of the mechanism began to swing open the gates. Tiny puffs of dirt kicked up by gunfire came much too close.

“Go! Go!”

Daria shot to her feet and slapped the button to close the gates again, then he hurled her toward the opening. The gates began to reverse direction, and he just managed to slide through after her before they clanged shut.

Clasping her hand, he dragged her through the dense forest, changing directions several times. Once, he halted at the base of a tree, grabbing a heavy backpack he’d left hidden close to the estate. He shrugged it over his shoulders without missing a beat. His pace never faltered, save when the thick undergrowth hampered their progress. Eventually the yells of August’s goons faded and disappeared. She’d always stayed in good physical condition, but she thought her lungs might explode if he didn’t slow down.

No matter. She’d die before asking him for any favors because she’d practically forced him to allow her to come. He might’ve read her mind. Where the foliage gave way to a tiny clearing, he stopped and turned to face her, his broad chest heaving.

Sweet Jesus. He affected her like this every time.

Her mate was a sexy beast. Camouflage pants hugged his long thighs and a matching T-shirt with the sleeves cut out displayed the ropy muscles in his arms. Tousled blond hair fell into his blue eyes. He stood with his booted feet planted apart, his gaze like twin lasers raking her in kind. Two hundred pounds of powerful male.

All mine.

Yes, yours, he agreed. His sculpted lips turned upward in his handsome, angular face. A mocking smile, rife with challenge.

Then the reality of their tenuous situation intruded. “That was an epic fucking fail,” she groused. “August knew we were coming, or discovered our presence after we arrived. Now what?”

“We retreat, have the team pick us up. We’ll have to figure out some other way to get what we need.” His face, however, reflected bitter disappointment.

“Absolutely not. We can’t give up now.”

* * *

Ryon studied his mate’s reaction with fascination. Whether she knew it or not, her whiskey brown eyes were windows straight to her soul. They brimmed with righteous indignation, and no small amount of fear. She looked so lost standing there, so disconsolate, as though she took their failure personally. The idea didn’t sit well.

“We did the best we could.”

“That’s not good enough.”

She stood, fists clenched, holding his gaze. Clearly she hated backing down.

“I’m proud to have such a brave mate,” he murmured, curling a hand under her chin. “But it’s not worth the risk.”

“Yes, it is!” Angry, she jerked from his grasp. “Ben is worth the risk! He’s a good man who doesn’t deserve what they did to him!”

His gut churned. Ben again. Always that goddamned Ben Cantrell, standing smack between him and his mate.

Did the man have any idea of the gift he’d so carelessly lost? Her long raven hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail and hung halfway down her back. Her large brown eyes were set in a face that would put any angel from heaven to shame. Tiny laugh lines at the corners of her lips evidenced a passionate woman who often found much joy in her world. The coldness in her stare right now made him loathe the argument that had recently wounded it.

“You know, Ben is part of your past,” he said stiffly, striving to keep the hurt and jealousy out of his voice. And failing. “Keep looking into the past and your future just might pass you by. Didn’t someone say something similar to me recently?”

She stilled. “You’re going to throw that in my face now?”

“Maybe you should figure out once and for all what it is you want, that’s all. Let’s go.”

God, this was going to be a long hike. He could feel Daria glaring holes in his back.

Arrogant jackass!

“What did you say?” he called over his shoulder.

“Nothing.” He could practically hear her grit her teeth in annoyance.

No. He wouldn’t let her anger get to him. Better that she was mad at him than to have her uncle’s men catch up with them.

“How far do we have to walk? I assume you’ll do your Telepath thing and have the team pick us up?”

“Eventually. We’re off the route we took coming in. From the map, we’ve got thirty miles to go, give or take.”

Daria’s protest was swift. “Thirty miles? That’s sheer lunacy!”

“What other option do we have? Our wolf forms could handle the trip better, but we have to forgo that because we need our supplies. Besides, you’re fit,” he pointed out. “You spend half your year in the Shoshone doing research.”

“Yes, but I’m not typically fleeing through it at a breakneck pace.”

“Need I remind you that you insisted on coming along?” A huff of annoyance was his only answer. “When we reach the rendezvous point, I’ll contact the team and they’ll pick us up. And for the record, I don’t like giving up any more than you do.”

Silence, thick and heavy.

He wasn’t capable of forcing her to talk any more than he was able to make her see retreat was for the best. So he started walking, keeping the pace brisk but making certain she was close behind. As they went, he reached out to his commander.

Nick? The op was a bust. We got inside, but somehow August knew we were there.

You two okay?

Yeah, but it was a close call. We’re using the alternate escape route, but it will take us a day or more to get to the rendezvous point.

All right. Let me know when you get close and we’ll be on our way. And Ryon, be careful.

He smiled at the real concern in Nick’s tone. Will do.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been under way, but it must’ve been hours before her breathless voice cut into his brooding.

“Can we rest for a minute?”

He stopped and turned to face her, wry amusement tugging at his lips. “And give August a chance to catch up? Sure, why not. Maybe he’ll be so overjoyed to see you that he’ll just kill me and spare you. It’ll be a regular family reunion.”

Ignoring his teasing, Daria shrugged off her backpack, snatched her canteen from inside, and took a draw, careful to conserve the precious water. When finished, she replaced the cap and squinted up at Ryon, who watched her without comment.

“Tell me the story of how you and your SEAL team were turned in Afghanistan,” she said quietly.

He sucked in a breath, wondering if this was some new strategy to prove her point. But he sensed no deception, just an honest desire to know his beginnings as a shifter. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear—”

“Stop protecting me! Trust me to know when I’m ready.” Her eyes narrowed, her jaw set.

“All right. When we make camp, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”