This was pride.
This was what it felt like to be a part of a community. A pack that stuck together and respected each other.
And it was clear that's exactly what his brothers felt for him—respect.
Sure, they might not understand him. They might consider him solitary, aggressive, and antisocial. And fuck it—they were right. Maddox was all those things. But that didn't mean they would let him twist in the wind alone when things got tough.
And shit had never been tougher than it was right now.
* * *
Being pursued by armed narcos through the wilderness for three straight days with no supplies had been hell.
But somehow sitting here alone for a few hours in this solidly built, fully stocked cabin was worse.
Hope's stomach had been rolling over itself, twisting into knots since the moment she and Maddox had arrived back home. She didn't have to guess why.
He was going out there to face them…and he wasn't coming back inside until it was over.
It didn't matter that Maddox had already taken down four murderers on his own. Just as it didn't matter that he had a good chunk of the Boundarylands population out there with him as backup.
Hope knew in her heart that the drug runners wouldn't be sending men one or two at a time anymore. Too many of their men hadn't made it back to camp. Too much time had passed for her to contact the authorities.
This time they'd come in force—fully armed and ready to take down anyone in their way. Even half a dozen alphas.
And if by some miracle she managed to survive the fight, she'd have their blood on her hands. All of their blood.
She'd be the one responsible for all their deaths. Mia's mate. Cassidy's mate. All the others.
And Maddox.
Her stomach did another somersault at the thought. She lifted her hands and dragged her fingers through her hair a little too hard, her fingernails scratching against her scalp.
It didn't help that it was so quiet outside. Before Hope had been able to hear the comforting rumble of deep voices through the window, but now all the alphas had spread out.
She knew they were still out there, silently guarding the house. The thought should have given her comfort, but all she could think of was the targets on their backs.
As if her worry had willed it into existence, the silence was shattered by the unmistakable crack of gunfire. Its acrid stench filled the air, sharp and unrelenting.
Just as she feared, it wasn't single shots from pistols or snipers this time. These were automatic weapons, spraying death without a shred of mercy.
Hope's breath caught in her throat. Her hands flew to cover her gaping mouth, and she ran to the window. Pushing back the curtain, she looked out into the night…but there was nothing to see. Just a sea of darkness.
She heard the roar of alphas from deep within the trees. Each shout seemed farther away than the last. The damn fools were chasing after the gunfire. They were running straight toward it. They were all going to get themselves killed.
Hope let out a frustrated cry.
A part of her wanted to throw open the door and scream that she was here. Right here for the taking. That the narcos could come and do whatever they wanted to her, as long as they left everyone else alone.
As long as they left Maddox safe and alive.
But she didn't. She couldn't.
She'd promised him that she would stay inside. No matter what. She couldn't break that promise. She couldn't disobey him now.
There was a crash, and something shattered the window and fell to the floor, reflecting lamplight off its metallic surface. A heavy cylinder clanked against the floorboards and rolled beneath the bed. A second later, deep grey smoke poured out from underneath.
A smoke bomb.
Oh shit.
The betas were trying to flush Hope out. Acrid smoke stung her eyes, and Hope doubled over in a fit of violent coughing.
She couldn't stay inside-- she'd suffocate. But Hope knew she couldn't run out the door either. Whoever had chucked the bomb was out there waiting for her. Ready to unload his clip into her.
There had to be another way.
Before the smoke had filled every corner, Hope caught a glimpse of Maddox's hatchet hanging from its hook on the wall. She quickly snatched it and then crouched down.
On hands and knees, she crawled to the side of the cabin where Maddox had started putting in the bathroom. She felt with her hands through the thickening smoke for the gap in the wall where the new foundation joined the old.
Drawing in her last clean breath, she brought the hatchet down hard on the weak spot. The wood shattered beneath the solid blade. The crack widened.
Hope swung, again and again, the sound of gunfire and shouts muffling the hatchet blows. Soon her arms burned with exertion, and her lungs cried out for more air. But just then, the longest and thinnest board gave way, opening wide enough for Hope to squeeze through.
She sucked in the fresh air the moment she landed on the dirt floor of the crawl space. But there wasn't time to savor the moment.
Still gripping the hatchet, Hope lay flat on her belly and crawled between the wooden piers in the dirt, staying as low as possible until she reached the path leading to the hot spring.
If these bastards had scent blockers and smoke grenades, then it wasn't a stretch to imagine they had other military tech as well, like thermal imaging to see in the dark.
If she stayed out here in the open, she was a glowing target, but her body heat would blend right in with the warm spring water.
At least, she hoped it would. Right now, it was her only hope.
Hope breathed a sigh of relief the second the burbling stream came into view. She crawled faster, nearly making it to the waterline before she heard the
