She thought of Malcolm’s insights during their patrol, of the passion in his kiss.
He wasn’t just a rival anymore.
He was…more.
And that terrified her.
CHAPTER 11
THE ACRID STENCH OFfear clung to Hannah like a second skin as she crouched in the shadows at the edge of pack territory.The cool night air, on the other hand, carried the scents of home—dust, sage, creosote, and the underlying musk of wolf—making her throat tight with longing.
Beside her, Gregory’s breathing was controlled, measured, but Hannah could sense the tension coiled within him.One wrong move, one misplaced step, and everything would be over.
They both knew it.
Hannah’s ears pricked at the sound of voices carried on the wind.Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of two figures in the distance, their silhouettes unmistakable even in the moonlight.
“Malcolm and Larissa,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“On patrol,” Gregory murmured back.“We need to time this perfectly.”
Hannah watched as the two figures drew closer, their usual bickering drifting toward them on the night breeze.But there was something different in their voices tonight, an undercurrent of tension distinct from their usual rivalry.
Malcolm’s deep chuckle echoed through the desert night.“Since when do you back down from a challenge?”
Larissa put her hands on her hips and cocked her head.“I never back down.”
They stood frozen, the air between them crackling.Hannah’s breath caught as Larissa stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Malcolm.Then, in a move that made Hannah’s jaw drop, Malcolm pulled Larissa into a passionate kiss.
A pang of jealousy and resentment shot through Hannah, bitter as bile.She remembered a time when she had been at the center of the pack, when her opinion had mattered.
Now she was reduced to skulking in the shadows.
“They’re distracted.”Gregory’s urgent whisper snapped her back to the present.“This is our chance.”
Pushing aside her emotions, Hannah nodded.They moved swiftly through the scrub brush as quietly as possible, every sense on high alert.
Each rustle of branches, every snap of a twig under her foot, each tiny piece of gravel rolling away from her footstep, sounded like a gunshot in the quiet night.
But Malcolm and Larissa remained oblivious, lost in their embrace.
As she and Gregory slipped past the patrol line and made their way into town, the full force of pack territory scents washed over Hannah.
It was like a punch to the gut, memories flooding back with each familiar smell.The dust of the training grounds where she had once proven herself.The lingering scent of the communal fires where pack bonds were forged and strengthened.The faint traces of individual pack members—some she had called friends, others rivals, all now potential enemies.
They navigated through the shadows, avoiding well-lit areas and potential encounters.Hannah’s mind raced with each landmark they passed.The stand of cottonwood trees where she had first shifted.The Desert Sunrise Diner, where she had gossiped with packmates on lazy summer days.The rocky outcropping where Vincent had first noticed her potential.
Vincent.Tears sprang to her eyes.Their destination loomed before them—Vincent’s former home, its imposing silhouette a symbol of the power she had once been so close to grasping.
Gregory tested the electronic lock.No one had bothered to change the code.
They exchanged a look of grim satisfaction before slipping inside.
Almost immediately, the lingering scent of Vincent and his mate Karla hit Hannah’s sensitive nose.It brought back a flood of memories—strategy meetings, clandestine conversations, promises of power and position.
All turned to ash now.
Inside, they moved through the opulent living room, their footsteps echoing against the slate floors beneath the vaulted ceilings.
