Page 100 of Midnight Hunt
“Gladly,” I replied, letting go of Vi so I could whip off my shirt. “I accept your challenge. Give me your best shot, gramps.”
Whiskey howled with glee, surging up so quickly that fur erupted over my chest and arms.
The male’s eyes widened, unmistakable fear flickering in their depths. I grinned at him, revealing my lengthened canines.
“Show off,” Vi muttered under her breath, and my grin broadened.
“This fight needs to befair,” the male said, clearly starting to lose his nerve. “Fight me as a man, not as a beast.”
“Fair?” Vi snapped, taking a step toward him. As she did, I noticed that several of the other females had come closer to watch the spectacle. Whiskey puffed up his chest, pleased to have an audience. “Was it fair when you tore these females from their homes? Was it fair when you put collars on them and threatened them with violence to force their submission? Was it fair when you sent a feral pack of males after them to claim andrapethem?”
At that last part, I couldn’t hold back a growl. Stepping forward, I pulled Vi back against me, needing to feel her before I completely lost it and took the male’s head off.
“No, Atticus,” she continued, drawing more and more females over with each bravely spoken word. “You don’t deserve fair after all that you’ve done. So either face my mate—myalphamate, by the way—or run like the coward you are. If you choose to run, we’ll give you a head start. But the second you’re out of sight, we’re coming for you. How’sthatfor fair?”
When she was finished, one of the females loudly cheered. Another joined in, and soon, they were all hooting and hollering, even Desirae.
Vi glanced at them with a wide smile, then turned back to Atticus and said, “That’s your cue, old man. Fight or run. The choice is yours.”
He stared at the teeming crowd, not a single one of his pack members in sight. Took one last look at me. And then . . .
He turned tail and bolted.
35
VIOLET
It was thrilling running with so many hybrids.
The second Atticus was out of sight, the clearing lit up with the sound of breaking bones. Within seconds, massive wolves of varying color dotted the snow. Even Burgundy, Desirae’s dark brown wolf, had shifted and was clearly eager to pursue Atticus. There were fifteen of us in all, and it was a glorious sight. None of the wolves had opted to shift into their true forms, but we didn’t need them to.
There was no way that Atticus could outrun us. The hunter had become the hunted, and the irony of the situation made me howl with glee.
Sable released my howl, and as it echoed through the trees while we ran, the wolves behind her excitedly answered the call. It was a terrifying sound, and Atticus was no doubt wetting himself right now.
In no time, we caught up with him, but the pack decided to fan out and bring him down slowly. He needed to feel the fear that we had felt. To experience how terrifying it felt to be hunted. We chased him for miles, ever-so-slowly tightening the circle. He ran and ran, helpless against so much power.
A power he never should have messed with.
A loudsnapsuddenly cleaved the air, and Atticus fell with a cry.
Sable slowed to a trot, approaching him cautiously. When I saw a flash of silver in the snow, I barked a laugh.He fell into one of his own traps! Ah, poetic justice. The other wolves closed in, watching Atticus writhe on the ground in agony. After several long moments, I said,Guess we should help him.
Just a little bit longer, Sable softly whined.
We’re not evil, remember?I chastised.
Fine, she said with a sigh.
She stepped forward, but Whiskey brushed against her, clearly wanting to help. Together, they approached the fallen male, pausing to shift their front paws into clawed hands so they could pry the trap open. As Whiskey grabbed the male’s injured leg, Atticus reared up, a syringe tightly gripped in his hand.
The needle was headed directly for Whiskey’s neck, and Sable immediately reacted.
Faster than I could blink, she lunged forward and bit Atticus’s head clean off. As blood spurted into her mouth, I wailed,Gross! Drop it, Sable. Drop it!
She spat it out into the snow with a sheepish whine.Oops.
OOPS? That’s all you have to say for yourself?
