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Chapter 1
Jackson
Ican taste the blood. It coats my tongue, soaking into the hair around my muzzle, leaving a bitter scent in my nose. I don’t recognize the body on the ground, and neither does my wolf, but the fact he’d tried to kill me is enough to tell me this guy is a threat.
Or was, until I neutralized him.
If his attire hadn’t alerted me, him sneaking around outside the perimeter of the Sanctuary sure as hell did. Our little slice of paradise in the Montana mountains is hidden away from everyone but them.
My wolf whines, drawing my attention as he paws at the ground. He wants to attack the body again, make sure he’s really dead, but there’s no need. We ripped out his throat, and no one, not even a tau wolf, can survive that.
I stare at the body, which remains in a humanoid form. The guy never shifted into his wolf form during our fight, which suggests—like the females—male tau are for the most part also latent. He used a whole lot of magic and human weaponry, though. My shoulder burns, and the blood I can smell when I turn my head this time is my own.
The wound isn’t deep—no more than a glancing shot that tore through the fatty tissue—but it’s still oozing. I’ll need to get it taken care of soon, but I have time to do my checks before I head back to patch myself up.
I nudge the corpse with my nose, moving it into a better position. He wasn’t tall, and he couldn’t fight with his hands, so I guess his wolf side was not as strong as his witch, though his magic hadn’t been powerful either. He’d relied on the gun he carried instead, and that was his downfall.
Bullets can damage our kind; we’re not immune to weapons, but he’d been clumsy with his shooting. It was as if he’d never fired a gun before, and the hit to my shoulder was likely more luck than marksmanship.
I stare at the weapon lying next to his mangled body, the pungent stench of gunpowder clinging to my nose.
Stupid fucker.
His inexperience makes me wonder if these guys are just cannon fodder. It wouldn’t surprise me. The Order of the Crescent Moon has never considered tau to be anything more than pawns, but I know better. The girls are unique in their own ways. They have wants and dreams, fears too, and they can love. That much is clear from the fact that Cade, Sawyer, and even Abel have fated mate bonds with their women.
He looks strangely normal. Did I expect him to have “Property of the Order” tattooed on his forehead? No, but I was expecting something. There’s no hint of who he was before he became an Order soldier other than the scar running along his cheek past his eye and into his hairline.
Did the Order do that to him, or was it from before he became a part of this?
He doesn’t look like a soldier. His clothes aren’t the usual military-style hunters wear, but they are worn, and his jeans are frayed around the knees and hem.
Something feels off, but I don’t dwell on it. I’m not going to lose any sleep over one dead hunter. It’s one less threat against Dove and the girls.
I know I should feel remorseful or guilty for taking his life. Some of the females we’ve encountered have been mindless husks, so he might have been one too. I don’t know what the Order does to them once they have them, but some are only capable of following orders.
Not all, though—some of the tau we’ve dealt with still had their faculties.
A flicker of something niggles at my mind. This guy looked at me with fear in his eyes before my wolf lunged at his throat, so he knew what he was doing.
A howl sounds to the west, and my head snaps in that direction. I recognize the timbre as my alpha, Cade, and the tone tells me he’s pissed—something I’m getting used to from my pack.
Cade, Sawyer, and Wyatt have made no secret of their disdain for my behavior, as if I care. My brothers think I’m slipping into some kind of feral state again, but my mind has never been clearer.
Dove is mine.
My wolf and I are obsessed with this woman. The need to guard her, to keep her close at all times almost suffocates me, and it makes no sense either. There is no mating bond between us—chosen or fated. Yet my wolf is crazy protective of her, with or without that bond.
When I take too long to respond, the howl sounds again. I grind my teeth, the crack of command clear in Cade’s howl. This time, it’s more insistent and carries alpha vibes meant to control me.
I don’t move a muscle. It’s a testament to how pissed my wolf is with my pack too. A month ago, I would have followed that order without a second thought. Not now. My wolf doesn’t like the treatment Dove is receiving either, so he lifts his head and sniffs again, ignoring Cade and whatever he wants with us.
I thought my wolf might force me to turn our pack link back on, but he hasn’t. Our kind isn’t designed to live the lone life, so it is unusual for him not to insist on that connection.
Still, I can’t hide from my alpha forever. If he chooses to come after me, he’ll be able to track my scent easily enough, but let him come to me. I’m done taking orders from people who turned their backs on me. That hurt is the main reason I turned off our pack link, preventing Cade from reaching out in my mind. Muting the link is something that is meant to be used sparingly and only in specific circumstances, but I can’t bear feeling and listening to their concerns about my behavior.
Plus, I’m sure Cade would be screaming in my head right now if I hadn’t. Severing the link leaves us lonely and unprotected, but it was the only way to keep my sanity.
There may still be hunters out there. We have to protect what’s ours.
