Despite all the hammering, he should have heard the gunman's footsteps. And even if his incessant pounding had drowned out the sound of their approach, he still should have been able to catch his scent in the air.
But he hadn't.
Even now, he was having trouble zeroing in on anything concrete. There were a few traces of bold and reckless beta in the air, but they were patchy, constantly shifting in the wind.
Fortunately, the beta's retreat wasn't half as quiet as his advance had been. Maddox was able to make out every trampled leaf and broken branch.
He followed the trail of sound the beta left behind, his own footsteps silent and sure. Maddox was the best hunter in the Borderlands. He would not fail.
This was the last time this man would set foot on his land. The last time he would dare to come near his omega. The last time he would threaten anyone ever again.
But even as Maddox made the pledge, he knew the shooter wouldn't be the last man that would come after Hope. That had become clear.
Whatever she and her friends had stumbled on during their hike, it was no small operation. It had to be extremely well-funded with a crew large enough to keep sacrificing men to suicide missions to the Boundarylands. Whoever ran it was determined to destroy Hope before she could tell her story to the beta authorities.
Maddox pumped his legs even harder as he neared this round's sacrifice. He was closing in on the man when the roar of an engine signaled the approach of an ATV. The shooter must have come on foot, with another waiting until he heard the gunshot to come get him.
The bastards had learned they couldn't win a face-to-face battle with an alpha, so they'd brought vehicles and reinforcements. What they lacked in strength, they hoped to make up for with technology.
But it didn't matter now. Maddox had them. An ATV might be able to outrun him on flat open land, but not in the forest. Not through dense groves of towering evergreens whose contours only he knew by heart.
But even as the engines grew louder, Maddox still couldn't detect the individual scents of the betas. They had to be using blockers. Military-grade. Just as he'd heard the army had done on Ty's land all those months ago.
Maddox would hunt down every last one of them. He would make them pay.
He ran flat-out, pushing himself to his limits, and in less than a minute spotted the ATV.
The driver pushed the engine to its limit as Maddox crested the hill. The gunman on the back spotted him and lifted his rifle.
But Maddox didn't slow his stride. He knew he didn't have to.
Sure enough, one of the tires hit a deep rut, forcing the rifle barrel high in the air just as the shooter squeezed the trigger. The shot went wild, and the gunman lost his grip as he fought to stay on his seat.
Maddox seized that moment to close the distance. When he came close enough, he threw himself into the side of the vehicle.
It toppled like a toy, rolling side over side through the sea of green on the forest floor.
Maddox roared in victory as the heavy heap of metal landed on the driver, pinning his lifeless body to the ground. Then Maddox turned his attention to the shooter.
He found the beta broken and bloody beneath a toppled tree. Maddox didn't have to get any closer to know the man's legs were broken. His sputtering breath was wet, indicating that his ribs were shattered, the shards stabbing into his lungs.
If Maddox walked away now, the man would die—alone, afraid, and in terrible pain.
But it wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't be justice.
This man had to die by Maddox's own hand.
Maddox bent down on his haunches in front of the beta. The man's eyes widened with terror as Maddox clasped his hands on either side of the man's head.
But he still couldn't smell his fear, just the faint chemical signature of the powerful blocker.
Then Maddox wrenched hard, twisting the beta's head clean off.
He tossed it to the side like trash as he rose to his feet. Before it hit the ground, Maddox's thoughts were already consumed with what the hell he was going to do next.
He couldn't keep picking off these drug runners one by one. Each attempt they made was more advanced, more focused than the last. They'd almost got to Hope this time. They'd made it to the edge of his cabin.
Maddox had gotten lucky this time. The shot had missed. Hope had survived. The betas were dead.
But what about next time?
How the hell could he fight scent blockers and military-grade tech on his own?
The answer was as simple as it was maddening—he couldn't.
If he was going to protect Hope, he was going to have to ask for help.
Chapter Twelve
Hope didn't know how much longer she could take lying still on the ground. She knew why Maddox had pushed her under here. She needed to keep quiet and still to stay alive.
But he'd been gone so long.
And there had been a gunshot.
Hope couldn't stop her brain from spinning, imagining what might be happening out there. Was Maddox hit? Was he bleeding out? Were the narcos already digging his shallow grave? Were they coming back for her?
The snap of a twig near the corner of the cabin made the breath catch in Hope's throat. Her blood froze, and despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep her hands from shaking. Her splayed fingers trembled in the dry dirt in front of her face.
She wished she had a weapon—a gun, a knife, anything. Just so when they pulled her out, she had something other than quaking fists to pummel them with. Just so she could put up a fight.
Her heart hammered as heavy footsteps came closer. But the second the pair
