“And I still haven’t found the wolves that killed Archer, Genevieve, and Grey.” That’s the whole point of this crusade, to find the wolves who ripped out the Thornes’s throats and then set their car on fire, with their bodies still inside.
“No, but there’s still time, and we will find them.” Sawyer puts his arm around my shoulders. “And I promise you, Ryker, we will.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a minute before we hear movement in the trees to our right. We both jump off our perch on the truck’s bed. Sawyer moves a tad slower, but still ready to fight if the rogue decides to show his face. To our relief, it’s Avery who steps out of the brush, picking leaves and pine needles out of her long dark locks.
Still naked from shifting, she saunters toward us, unfazed by her bare state. “That redhead is fast as hell,” she grumbles as she passes both of us to find some clothing in the backseat. “I tracked him all the way to the border, but his scent disappeared like last week when we were in Calgary.”
Last week, we had been outside of Calgary tracking the rogue after he attacked and assaulted a young unmated female. The sixth she-wolf he has left beaten and violated in his wake of destruction. He had originally started on the western side of Washington State and had made his way from there through Idaho and a piece of Montana before taking a quick turn north. We had been tracking him though Alberta ever since.
“We have to find him soon,” I grumble. “He’s growing more bloodthirsty, and his attacks are coming closer and closer together. His humanity is completely gone by now, and his wolf is working on pure instinct and need.”
Rogue wolves don’t choose to go rogue. Unfortunately, biology has not been kind to the male wolf shifters. Male wolves have biological timeclocks that dictate when they need to mate. The timeclock differs for all of us and whys and whens are unclear, but the wolf that lives inside the man craves the peace the connection with a female brings. And if they don’t find them in time, they turn rogue. Meaning they look for peace in any female they can get their hands on. In some cases, the rogue male is so far gone it forces a mating bond on non-consenting females. In the wolf shifter community, this is considered a form of sexual assault and the worst thing that could happen to a female.
“His last victim is barely alive,” Sawyer growls, surely remembering the bloody and gruesome sight we found the young female in. “But she fought like hell, and that’s the only reason she’s still breathing.”
“It will take time, but she’ll be okay,” Avery assures us. Having survived a rogue attack, she knows how physically and mentally scarring it is for the females.
Turning to us with her hands on her hips, Avery adds, “He’s obviously headed into Montana, right? Where’s the closest pack to the border from here? He’s going to be looking for a new female, and with his escalation, it’s not going to be pretty if we don’t find him first.”
Both Sawyer and I stop and give each other a look. I know exactly what pack he’s making his way toward as we speak. Familiar faces flash in my mind as I think of the pack, and I feel bile rising in my throat at the thought of him going anywhere near them. My Pack. I don’t know if I should even consider them my pack anymore since I deserted them, but that’s my family, and I can’t let that wolf anywhere near them.
Kicking the rocks under my feet, I push my hands through my dark hair. “Shit!” I growl, a hint of my wolf coming through as I do. Avery jumps back, and Sawyer has turned pale.
“What did I miss?” Avery’s amber eyes narrow in question.
“He’s headed right toward our pack,” Sawyer explains as I pace in front of them. I contemplate my next move as they continue to talk in hushed voices. I should call my dad, the alpha of the pack, and warn him. But I know it will be better if I go and handle it in person.
“We have to go home.” I stop and look at both of them. “We kill him, and then we get the hell out of Dodge. Got it?”
The idea of going home makes my skin crawl, but it gives me extra motivation to get this wolf. The faster I find him, the faster I’m able to get out of Montana and away from the ghost of Grey Thorne haunts me there.
3
Pruitt
The bell above the door sounds as we enter the musty old basement-level shop. I know I shouldn’t be surprised by the interior design, but I can’t help but gasp and take a step back as I look around. The psychic shop is everything and more like they depict on television. Occult items cover every inch of the dark-red painted walls, and a variety of medallions and chimes hang from the ceiling. Bookshelves line the back wall and are full of books of varying genres and items. I’m surprised it’s still standing. In the middle of the room is a round table with a purple tablecloth of sorts on it.
“What? No magic crystal ball?” I ask, snickering to my new best friend, Remington, as I continue to look around the small and overly crowded space. “I can’t believe I let you drag me here. When you said you had something fun planned tonight, I thought it was going to be ice cream.” I can’t help but pout over the missing dessert.
“Esme is the real deal, Pru, just wait and see.” Remington smiles at me
