Pride's Pursuit Page 13

  “What is it?” I say.

  “You’d better come outside,” he says, an edge of danger in his voice.

  A look comes over my father’s face, and I get the sense that he’s fully aware of what is out there. My wolf bristles, because deep down, she knows too. We both rise but before we follow Logan down the stairs, my father grips my elbow and I turn to him.

  “I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but I want you to promise me one thing.”

  My body tightens, because I’m not sure I can promise him anything. “What?” I ask.

  “Someday when you do have pups, I want you to tell them about me. Tell them their grand-papa would have loved them.”

  Even though I’m not sure I can do that, the sadness on his face becomes my undoing and I give a quick nod. With that I tug my elbow free and hurry down the stairs after Logan.

  I follow him out the back until we’re surrounded by fragrant foliage and when he steps toward the gate, I move in beside him. He nods toward the mountains and I scan the perimeter and look for encroaching shadows.

  “Breathe Pride,” he says.

  When I do, I’m immediately assaulted with the rancid scent of cat. My hackles spike and I growl low in response.

  My father mumbles something under his breath and pulls his cell phone from his pocket. He slides his finger across the screen and as he speaks, I scan the grounds for immediate danger.

  Sensing the panthers are organizing an invasion I drop low in preparation. That’s when I realize Stone and Officer Sanford are still out there, and unlike last time when my master’s mansion was surrounded by feral cats, and Malcolm and the others went missing, I’m no longer caged. This time I can let my wolf off her leash.

  Determined to end this and find the others, I feel my nails lengthening, my wolf eager to give chase. My howl punctures the air and I grip the hem of my shirt, but a hand on my arm stops me.

  “We’re outnumbered,” my father says. “Besides, they pose no threat to us right now. The fence is armed, and I have guards on duty.” He nods toward the house and when I follow his gaze, I see his men on the rooftop. “Nothing or no one is getting in here today.”

  “And by no one, does that include Stone and Officer Sanford?”

  When his hands clench and he looks at a distant spot on the mountain, I once again breathe deep. But when a very familiar aroma fills my lungs, the hairs on my nape prickle and I nearly gasp for my next breath.

  I pull the crisp clean air in again, but the scent is gone, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. My senses go on high alert, and despite knowing my former master was killed at the hands of panthers, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that I just caught his scent.

  That he just might still be out there.

  11

  Cold floods me and fear has my hackles spiking. Logan’s hand captures mine in a strong, reassuring grip, and when I feel the incredible pull between us, my body absorbs the warm heat of his palm. As his supportive touch seeps under my skin, I angle my head to see him.

  “What is it?” he asks, his blue eyes darkening in genuine concern.

  I crinkle my nose and speak low. “I just…I think I caught his scent.”

  Logan inhales and pulls the morning air into his lungs. I watch his face as he deciphers all the smells and know I don’t need to explain who I’m talking about for him to understand.

  He exhales slowly and frowns. “I can’t catch it.”

  “I can’t anymore either,” I answer and don’t discount the possibility that the scent came from one of the cats who killed the man still haunting my nightmares.

  “We need to get prepared,” my father says, and with that Logan and I both turn our attention to my father and follow him inside.

  Logan lets my hand go as we step into the mansion, and when we enter through the kitchen I see the others still seated around the table. Looking at their faces I realize the tension inside the house is as elevated as it is on the outside.

  I think about the young wolves who are in need of protection and still can’t shake the uneasy feeling curling around me, one that has me fearing something very bad is about to go down.

  My mind races to strategize our next move. While I try to figure out the best course of action to keep the young ones safe, I look pointedly at Blaze.

  I mull over my concerns and know there is one thing I’m certain of. Both Blaze and Sandy have been through enough and I don’t want them with us on this dangerous hunt. But leaving them here, with panthers prowling outside—and possibly my former master—seems like an equally bad idea.

  We inch away from the others and I know my father senses my distress when he says, “We’ll need Gem with us since her connection with one of the panthers might prove beneficial, but Sandy and Blaze should stay behind.”

  “What if—”

  “They’re safer here. My men are on duty and there isn’t a panther getting through that gate.”

  But what about a wolf?

  Worry spikes my blood pressure and I look at Logan, my eyes searching his.

  He nods and once again takes my hand in his. “I agree, Pride.”

  I toss that idea around in my mind for a minute before I concede half-heartedly. “Okay.”

  My father gives a curt nod. “Now that we all agree,” he begins, “Let’s get ready. It’s time to go hunting.”

  Something in the way he says hunting sends a dark shiver down my spine, because while I know we have to search for the others, I also know we’re up against two very dangerous, very different enemies. And one wrong move could mean the difference between life and death for any one of us.

  A lump lodges in my throat as I consider that possibility but since I know now is not the time for emotions I strive to find my voice so I can question my father.

  “What about Stone and Officer Sanford? How are they going to get back inside?”

  “They’re not,” he answers.

  While I’m not sure what he’s getting at, I don’t like the implication that we’re going to leave them out there to their own fate. I root my feet. “We can’t go without them.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” he says. “We need Sanford’s intel.” With that he pulls his phone from his pocket, and that’s when I realize he had the foresight to toss one to Stone earlier. “Were going to take the underground tunnels to get out of here and have them meet us at my safe house.”

  Catching me off guard he steps up to me and stares at me long and hard. His eyes are dark and full of an emotion I can’t quite identify when he pulls a strand of grass from my mussed hair. His fingers brush my cheek and his brows collide.

  “You’re so cold.”

  As I think about the chill that won’t leave me, Logan slides me a look and steps closer to offer his heat.

  My father tilts my chin to examine my features. His glance roams over me like he’s committing my face to memory. Like it could very well be the last time he sees it. He attempts a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and that’s when I notice how desperately tired he looks.

  “It’s going to take some time for Stone and Sanford to return with their equipment, so in the meantime why don’t you get yourself cleaned up, rest a bit, then get yourself prepared.”

  After I nod, my father says, “There are a few last minute things I need to take care of,” and with that he punches a number into his phone and steps into the other room.

  I ease my hand out of Logan’s, and while I think a hot, sudsy shower is a great idea, I’m not sure I can bring myself to indulge in such a luxury when the others are out there in danger.

  I look at Sandy, Blaze and Gem who are all perched on their chairs and watching us with worry. “I need to explain the situation to them,” I say quietly to Logan.

  “I will. You go shower.” He tugs his grass stained t-shirt from his body and pulls a disgusted face. “I’m going to climb in once you’re done.”

  I open my mouth and Logan presses his finger to my lips to seal
my protest. “Just go, Pride.”

  Less than ten minutes later, I climb into the shower and let the needle-like spray wash over my body. Even though I twisted the nozzle to hot, and blistering steam has taken over the room, it still does little to thaw the chill that has taken up residency in my body, freezing me to my very core.

  When I grab the soap and wash my body, I can’t help but think about Logan and our time in the park, specifically when we washed the dirt from our skin in the hot springs. My mind revisits that moment, and I remember the way Logan kissed my scars, the way he showed me I was beautiful, inside and out. I think about how lost and broken I was, and how he put me back together.

  As emotions crowd me, my throat tightens, and I hug myself, but there is nothing I can do to keep the strangled cry from rising in my throat. Knowing I need to get my mind on the mission and off my feelings before they get the better of me, I quickly wash my hair, turn off the water, and grab a big fluffy towel to wrap myself.

  After knotting it under my arm, I slide open the shower door, and when I see a familiar shadow stalking toward me in the steam filled room, I gasp out loud.

  “Pride,” Logan says, his soft whisper so full of emotion and raw need that all the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. We stand like that for a long moment, both staring at each other, then something else takes hold of us. Something neither of us has any control over.

  I’m not sure who moved first, but the next thing I know I’m in his protective arms and we’re gripping each other, clinging so tight that my lungs feel like they’re crushing beneath the weight. My heart is pounding so hard, the blood racing through my veins so fast, I’m sure every wolf in the house can hear the frenzied rush.

  Logan tangles his hands through my wet hair and his hold is fiercely possessive as his lips hover close to mine. With my breath coming quicker, undisguised need moves over his face. He looks deep into my eyes, and I can tell from the way he’s searching my face that he fears these could very well be our last moments together.

  “Pride,” he says again as his eyes fix on mine, and there is something so primal and raw in his voice that it shreds my defenses and has my wolf howling with primitive need.

  “Logan,” I respond and when his gaze zeroes in on my mouth, I run my tongue over my lips, starved for his kisses.

  His breath scorches my skin and when the scent of him fills my nostrils, everything I feel for this boy bombards me with the force of a thousand silver bullets. My body begins shaking, and as I become lost in the alpha holding me close, I try to take a breath but find air harder and harder to come by. Driven by pure instinct, I go up on my tiptoes, answering the unasked question dancing on his parted lips.

  His chest heaves and when his soft mouth closes over mine a tortured moan lodges in my throat. At first his kiss is warm, soft, exploring, but when I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight—like it might be the last time I’ll ever get the chance—he deepens the kiss and pulls me impossibly closer.

  His body presses against mine and I can feel the tension in his muscles as his lips move over my mouth with such urgency, such incredible, mind numbing need. I respond in kind, and savor this stolen moment between us because some part of me warns that I might need this memory to draw on later.

  Hunger prowls though me, but it’s a different kind of hunger, one that has nothing to do with food and everything to do with this boy. Losing all composure, I kiss him harder, and can feel his muscles bunch beneath my fingers.

  Even though my thoughts are whirling out of control, I’m aware that his familiar touch and ravenous kisses are the only things capable of combating the ice inside me. This boy, and this boy alone, is the only one with the power to warm me.

  …the one you need might not be the one you want…

  As my father’s warning words ping around inside my head, I lock them away to consider later and instead indulge in this moment, this kind yet powerful alpha. I let his warmth streak through me and when I open myself up to him, a low growl sounds deep in his throat.

  We exchange kisses for a long time, and I can feel the erratic rise and fall of his chest before he breaks the intimate connection and inches back. He grips my shoulders and I watch his throat work when he swallows. His voice lacks the calm steadiness I’m accustomed to and I can taste his tension like it’s my own when he says, “Don’t take any chances out there today, okay.”

  “You either,” I respond between labored breaths, and as I stare at him, and take in the silver shards darkening his eyes, I know he’s feeling the same thing I am. That something bad is about to go down. My fingers curl in his shirt in a desperate attempt to keep him close. Keep him safe.

  I hear a strain in his tone and a new kind of worry in his eyes when he warns, “Promise me something.”

  My body tightens and while I would promise this boy just about anything, I suspect he’s about to ask for the one thing I can’t possibly give him.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Don’t put yourself in any danger because of me.”

  I give a fierce shake my head, and my stomach clenches. “You know you can’t ask me to do that.”

  His nostrils flare, and there is an element of desperation in his voice when he says, “I am asking.”

  “Logan—”

  “If anything ever happened to you because of me, I just couldn’t…”

  “Then can I ask the same of you?”

  “No.”

  Apprehension curls through me and I pound on his chest. “How can you ask it of me when I can’t ask it of you?”

  He grabs my palms. “Because you can’t.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I cry out, the tension between us mounting as steam swirls around our bodies and raises both the temperature and anxiety in the room.

  “All right, then how about this,” he says pitching his voice low as he takes on a new approach. “How about because I love you with everything I have inside of me, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re my mate, Pride and I will die before I let any harm come to you.”

  When his words take the wind out of me, we both go silent and the potent look in his eyes when they latch on mine touches something deep inside me, something that I know there is no coming back from.

  “Okay,” I finally say, my voice a breathless whisper as the fight drains out of me. “Okay, Logan.”

  “Pride—” he warns, his eyes glinting knowingly.

  “Okay,” I say again, and give that one word a little more weight as I force it past my lips.

  Shrewd eyes search my face. “Okay,” he says, and then exhales slowly. He drops his arms and with a jerk of his head he gestures behind him. “You have clean clothes on your bed. Go get dressed and I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

  I nod, simply because I can’t seem to find my voice, and slip out of the bathroom while Logan takes his turn in the shower. I hurry to my room, pull on the mish mashed clothes rounded up for me, and take a moment to compose myself.

  When I turn and catch my reflection in the mirror, I take a long time to look at myself, a long time to think about the cryptic things my father has said to me over the past few days. As I think about family, bonds, destined mates, the delicate fate of our species, and the importance of preserving our kind, I walk around my room.

  I look out my window and scan for danger. When my glance comes up empty, I plant myself on my soft mattress and my stomach tenses when my thoughts turn to Stone.

  Worry for his safety in a world where he’s so incredibly lost, reminds me that he’s in desperate need of my guidance, even though he says he doesn’t want it, and isn’t about to change. It also reminds me of the raw, unchecked emotion in his voice when he said he could never let me walk out of his life again. But the truth is, I need him every bit as much as he needs me.

  When I left the compound, it was with the intention of finding myself and learning about my past before I could commit to a future. Even though I’ve only been with my father a short
time, being here, in this house and finding that picture of my mother helped me understand where I’ve come from. I might have the blood of a rogue running through my veins but at least I now know I’ve come from love.

  And I embrace that truth, and recognize that I was born out of something beautiful, I wrap my arms around myself and smile. It’s that one little thing and what it means to me that wraps around my soul like a healing balm and helps me finally recognize where I belong in this chaotic, dangerous world.

  I draw in air and when I glance up to find Logan standing in my doorway, his blue eyes studying me carefully, I feel a new calmness come over me because after everything we’ve all been through, and with everything we’re all about to face, I suddenly know my place and the path I am supposed to walk in this foreign world. But more importantly, I know who I’m supposed to walk it with.

  His smile is tentative, unsure, and from his look alone I know he can feel the shift inside me. When his fresh clean scent swirls around me, I climb to my feet.

  “It’s time,” I say, but before I meet him at the door, I grab the gun stashed under my mattress.

  Close to an hour later, after making sure Blaze and Sandy are both secure inside the mansion, we make our way to the mountain top. We negotiate the dank underground tunnels leading from the estate, and soon enough I find myself standing with my father, Logan and Gem outside the safe house at the peak of the mountain.

  I watch the slow approach of my father’s SUV and see Stone watching me through the windshield.

  Always watching me.

  When I meet his glance and see a bevy of emotions pass over his eyes, I know he can feel the shift in me every bit as much as the alpha hovering close.

  12

  The mood in the vehicle is somber as we listen to the hard voices coming through Officer Sanford’s radio. When the PTF relay coordinates and mention they’ll be sending out scouts before a full blown attack, my dry throat cracks.