Pride's Run (19 page)

I just have to be.

I take a quick glance at Logan, who is
sleeping restlessly beside me, then quietly crawl out of my covers.
I peel the zipper open and pull the night air into my lungs.

A cry chokes in my throat as a queasy feeling
blooms in my stomach. I swallow hard and moving with stealth I
silently slip out of the tent. Climbing to my feet, I stand there
for a moment and fight down a howl as I breathe in a scent that has
my heart aching.

With emotions getting the better of me and
before I have a chance to consider the consequences of my actions,
I dart through the trees, my glance cutting from left to right as I
peer into the dark night in search of my father.

But how can this be? How can my father still
be alive?

I follow his scent until it grows stronger.
My nose begins to tingle and when my eyes water I know he is close.
So close.

I push a branch out of my way and take a step
into the clearing. When I see a piece of cloth on the ground, one
that holds my father’s distinctive scent, my heart nearly stops. I
take another small step and that’s when my instincts react to
danger a split second before my brain catches up.

But before I can leap a wire tightens around
my ankle and lifts me clear off the ground. I struggle but the
sharp wire snaps tight and my breath is torn from my lungs as I fly
through the air. Dangling upside down, my back smacks against the
tree trunk and the sound echoes around me. I bend at the waist and
fight to loosen the restraint. Except the more I squirm the tighter
it pulls.

As my mind races I think about shifting, but
will the wire tear through the bone and sever my leg? I bite back a
wounded cry, not wanting the hunters to know I’ve been snared in
their trap, but the rustling in the woods warns it’s too late.

Panicked, I’m about to shift and take my
chances with the wire, but when I hear, “
Pride, don’t
,” I
dart a glance to my left in time to see Stone step from the
darkness.

My heart slides into my throat and there is
nothing I can do to keep the howl in my lungs.

“
Shh
,” he warns, speaking
telepathically as he angles his head unnaturally, listening for
something. Before I realize what he’s doing, he pulls a knife from
his pocket and walks toward me.

“
Back off
,” I warn between gritted
teeth, and despite the wire chewing into my leg I try to swing my
body. If I can reach the tree, maybe I can climb up.

As the coppery scent of my blood fills the
air, Stone’s nostrils flare and he says, “
If you want me to get
you down you need to stay quiet and still
.”

“
You sure you want to do that
?” I
challenge.

He cuts me a careful glance, and his voice
lacks the hard bite I’m accustomed to when he says, “
Pride,
please,
I’m not going to hurt you.
”

“F
ine, I guess that will just make it
easier for me to kill you then
.”

In that instant I see something in his
expression, something dark and troubled. Something that instantly
tells me there is more going on than I know.

His head lifts and he sniffs the air like a
true predator, then shoots another glance around. His voice is low,
conspiratorial when he says, “
Pride, you need to listen to
me.
”

With impatience thrumming through me, I touch
his thoughts. His eyes harden as I move past the chaos. As his
tortured visions flood me, I gulp air. Once again I’m bombarded
with numbers and hear a gun shot—has he had some fight that I have
no knowledge of?

What is it I’m not grasping?

I try to puzzle it out, but when the chaos
parts way and I see an image of me in my mating dress, rage races
through me and I extricate myself from his mind.

“
I’ll never be your mate
.”

He gives a hard shake of his head and his
voice is grave when he says, “
Pride, you don’t under
-”

Before he can finish the sentence, Logan
comes tearing into the clearing. Running at breakneck speed, he
leaps through the air and lands on top of Stone with a hard thud,
his four paws digging into flesh and pinning his opponent to the
ground.

Without missing a beat, Stone drives his fist
into Logan’s throat. Logan lets out a deep guttural sound then
lunges for Stone’s neck. But Stone gains the advantage over the
other wolf, using that moment of distraction to roll out from
underneath him. In two seconds flat, Stone tears his clothes from
his body and shifts.

From my aerial position I watch them. Alpha
pitted against alpha. They begin circling each other, both sizing
up the enemy and looking for a weakness in the other that might
give an advantage. When frothing mouths and deadly incisors flash
beneath the overhead moon, I realize that only one wolf is going to
walk away from here with me tonight.

Blood rushes through my veins and I struggle
harder, determined to break myself free. If I don’t stop the fight,
I might never know what Stone is keeping from me.

Pain races up my leg, the wire digging
tighter as I swing myself toward the tree. Nausea wells up inside
me but I ignore it. I push harder and grasp the tree trunk, but
only manage to tear my nails clear from my fingertips as I try to
hang on.

Panicked, I watch the wolves fight each
other, a tumbling mess of fur and claws as they roll around on the
hard ground.

Logan gains purchase
and
begins mauling Stone. The sound of cartilage popping and bones
crunching echoes in the dark. Frothy saliva drips from Logan’s
mouth and as his fangs slice through flesh, ripping skin from body,
the fresh scent of blood fans out in the night. Yelping sounds
reach my ears, and I know I have to do something.

I begin to call on my wolf, but the second I
do, gunshots ring out in the night. Hunters!

Survival instincts kicking in, the wolves
separate, and Logan moves toward me in a protective manner. Stone’s
glance goes from Logan, to me, and when he penetrates my barriers
and briefly touches my mind I get the strangest sense that he
hadn’t come here to harm me.

He tears his glance away and stares at Logan.
A moment of uncertainty dances in his pewter eyes, then he glances
at the sharp blade on the ground beneath me.

Logan places his paw over it and snarls. As
his growl mingles with the approaching voices, Stone takes off and
all I see is the swish of his tail as he darts into the forest.

Logan shifts back to human and grabs the
knife. Within seconds he slices through the wire to release the
trap. I drop but he catches me before I hit the ground.

He deposits me in front of him and looks me
over quickly. “We need to get out of here. Can you run?”

I nod and when I hear hunters closing in, I
understand how much danger I’ve put us in. I work to disassociate
myself from the pain in my ankle as we dart into the woods. Logan
races to his pile of clothes, pulls them on and we run long and
hard until we reach our campsite.

Logan points to the tent. “Go shift and heal
your leg.” He grabs one of the backpacks and starts filling it with
supplies.

With a sense of urgency racing through me, I
peer into the dark and lower my voice wanting to explain, to
apologize. “Logan—”

He stops me with a firm shake of his head and
I realize that he has every right to be angry with me. “Not right
now, Pride,” he says, and that’s when I realize it’s not anger I’m
sensing. It’s disappointment. “Just go.”

As the sharpness in his voice cuts me, I slip
into the tent and remove my clothes. I call on my wolf to mend my
wounds and once I’m healed, I pull my clothes back on and step
outside to find Logan waiting for me. He breaks down the small tent
and attaches it to the pack.

Once finished, we sneak away, and lose
ourselves in the woods. We run long and hard until we’re unable to
run any longer. It’s only after we’ve put a great deal of distance
between us and the hunters that Logan drops the pack.

Both lost in our own thoughts, we remain
silent as we set up the small tent. Once complete, we climb in and
collapse under the stress of the night.

A few hours later, after a very fitful sleep,
my lids spring open. I can hear birds chirping and I’m grateful
that early morning is upon me. Logan stirs beside me, his body
brushing mine. My pulse pounds hard in my neck when I think about
how much danger I put him in last night. I also think that if it
hadn’t been for him, I could very well be on my way back to the
compound, or worse, dead.

I think about my father’s scent, think about
how I reacted without thinking. I press the heels of my hands to my
eyes and shake my head.

If there is one thing I’ve learned these past
seventeen years it’s that I need to think with my head not my
heart. The latter will only end up getting me killed.

I remain quiet and think more about my
father. Who set that trap with his scent? Stone? The PTF? Trackers?
But more importantly, the master killed him years ago, so how did
they have material with his scent on it?

Unless…

No. I have to be wrong. The master killed
him. He told us so. Then again it’s not like I can believe anything
he says. My stomach clenches at the direction of my thoughts, and I
force myself to think of something else. My father can’t be alive.
He just can’t be. Because if he was, wouldn’t he have tried to free
me?

Not wanting to think about that any longer,
my thoughts drift to Logan as I let him sleep a little longer. So
much has changed over a few short days, yet I still know so very
little about him. What is it about him that has my master so
enraged? Is it simply because he is a tracker who broke free, or is
it something else? My mind races with all the questions I still
want to ask. It also races with the questions I want to ask
Stone.

His soft whisper startles me. “You’re
awake.”

It’s a statement not a question.

“You are, too,” I say lowering my voice to
match his.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You.”

The blankets rustle and his scent fills the
tent as he leans toward me. He looks sleepy and rumpled and when
his brow knits together with genuine worry, I pull my blankets
tighter around me.

He touches my arm. “What happened to you last
night, Pride? Why did you run away from me?”

“I caught my father’s scent.”

“But I thought you said your father—”

“I know. It was a trap. I reacted with my
heart, not my head. It was stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” he says softly.
“Sometimes we need to fight with our hearts. It can give us an
edge.”

I look at him and wonder if he’s speaking
from experience. But last night he fought with his intellect, not
his heart, right?

I smooth my mussed hair off my face and think
about his abilities. “If it wasn’t for you and your skills…” I let
my words fall off, hating to think what could have happened if he
hadn’t showed up.

His grins and I can tell he’s trying to
lighten my mood when he says, “It’s all in the name.”

I angle my head, needing to know more about
him, needing to know more about this boy who understands so much. I
think back to our initial meeting. “Exactly how you were able to
remove the microchip?”

“In my old life I went to school. I learned a
thing or two.”

I stare at him. “You went to school?” My
pulse leaps a bit and I can’t help but feel envious of this boy who
knows what it’s like to lead a normal life. Well, as normal as can
be for a wolf.

He grimaces. “Don’t look so impressed. It’s
not all it’s cracked up to be.”

I go silent for a while and try not to think
about the ache in my joints. But as the moon beckons me—one more
day until it’s full—I think about the campers, how nice they all
were to us and how I could never live with myself if anything
happened to them.

Drawn by a force I can’t identify, I slide
closer to Logan, and in a protective move he wraps his arm around
me and pulls me close. As I lay there packaged in his strong arms,
I suddenly feel like I’m on a roller coaster ride. My muscles tense
and I force myself to relax.

He inches back. “Pride?” he asks quietly as
his eyes search my face.

I blink rapidly. “Yes.”

He looks me over. “What else is going on
inside that head of yours?”

When I don’t readily answer, he props his
elbow up and rests his head in his hand. “Tell me.”

After a long pause I finally say, “The full
moon.”

“What about it?”

I lower my eyes. “I can’t control her.” I
turn to him and press my hand over my stomach. “Can you control
your wolf?”

He nods.

I look away and think about the friends we
made. “What if she—”

“She won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re with me now, Pride,” he says,
as if laying claim to me, marking me as his. “And I won’t let
anything happen to you. I promised you that already and I don’t
break my promises.”

I swallow. “I’m not sure you can make that
promise.”

“You’re going to have to trust me then,
aren’t you?”

I stare at him long and hard and while I know
I feel something for this wolf, something I’ve never felt for
another, old habits and lifelong fears die hard and I still can’t
forget about the secrets I know he’s keeping from me.

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

His face hardens. “After everything we’ve
been through I think I can.” But he doesn’t press. Instead his
fingers span my stomach. “First things first, we need to make sure
your stomach is full.”

“Okay.”

“Are you ready to go hunting again?”

Feeling emotionally battered after my
encounter with Stone, I push the blankets off me. I crouch on the
balls of my feet and unzip the tent, needing to run and clear my
head. Maybe a good hard trek through the woods will help me figure
out what’s going on.