Sought

  Sought

  The Wolf’s Den

  Aline Hunter

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Aline Hunter

  Copyright © 2021 by Aline Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Art Melody Simmons ©2021

  First Edition 2021

  Editing @ Devil in the Details Editing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Aline Hunter. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted material.

  * * *

  Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  For the readers.

  Your encouragement and support

  mean the world to me.

  * * *

  To The Den of Depravity,

  thank you for keeping me sane.

  Chapter One

  Luna Lowe came to awareness with a groan.

  Her head hurt. Her back hurt. Her legs hurt.

  Who was she kidding? Everything hurt.

  Confused and disoriented, she relied on her sense of smell, taking a deep breath. Every muscle in her torso protested. It felt like she'd been beaten with a hammer, put through a blender, and placed in a garbage disposal as a final insult. She scented blood, melted rubber, gravel, grass, soil, and gasoline.

  What happened?

  She tried to recall the evening's events, hoping she could put the pieces together. Shortly after she'd gone to bed to ride out the full moon, she'd been woken and given the phone. She'd been told to come to the pack right away. She'd gotten up, put on clothes, and called for Max.

  He'd been right there, waiting beside the bed.

  She'd followed him down the stairs, so groggy she almost tripped over her own feet. He'd corrected her, using his body, keeping her upright. She'd walked by the entranceway and through the front door. The moonlight had hit her skin, lessening the potency of the medication in her system as she'd climbed into a vehicle. She'd been on her way to the hunting grounds, drifting to sleep as soon as the car hit the road.

  There had been a loud screech.

  Then nothing.

  A deep whine broke her from her thoughts.

  She froze, the breath leaving her lungs.

  Max.

  In an instant, pain no longer mattered.

  The vehicle had obviously crashed.

  Max had been placed in his kennel at the back of the van. He was still there. Trapped. Unable to get out even if she called for him. She was badly hurt, but if she was still alive, she'd heal.

  He wouldn't.

  "Maisy?" She wheezed, relieved as she remembered her aid could endure a car accident with ease. Vampires were fast, durable, and strong. That's why her grandparents had hired one in the first place.

  Seconds passed.

  Nothing.

  "Maisy," she repeated, louder this time. "Answer me."

  The temperature shifted, turning warm around the edges.

  Luna centered herself and paid attention, trying to see if anyone or anything was nearby. The faint hum of power lines created background noise, blocking out nature. There was no traffic anywhere nearby. Her sense of smell kicked in and overrode everything else.

  Heavy air, dense smoke, and growing flame.

  Fire.

  Only a few yards away.

  "Maisy," she screamed, going into a panic. "Maisy!"

  The vampire could hear a spider weaving a web. If she wasn't answering, likely she couldn't. Perhaps she'd been ejected from the vehicle.

  Oh, no.

  No, no, no.

  This isn't happening.

  Her worst nightmare had come true.

  She wasn't a predator. She wasn't even prey. She was a runt who died to feed the worms and nourish the soil. Another werewolf would have been able to use their abilities and climb out of the wreckage immediately, using their perfect bodies and clear vision. Something like this wouldn't cause them any sort of alarm or concern. They would shake the entire ordeal aside and go on their way.

  How could she be worthy of a mate? She wasn't even worthy of a pack.

  No wonder he didn't come to me.

  He knew better.

  The thought hurt. It always hurt.

  Trapped in a place she couldn't maneuver, unable to rely on others, she let shame and embarrassment consume her. Wasn't it bad enough that her sister hated her? Their relationship had always been strained, but at least they'd spoken to each other on occasion. Then the worst had happened and Luna had destroyed everything. Things would never be the same because she'd been born wrong and her mate didn't want her.

  I should die, right here. Right now.

  In death, she would spare everyone the utter humiliation of her presence. She should have been culled as soon as she started losing her sight. Wolves were strong. Weakness wasn't permitted. The only reason she'd survived this long was her mother and father. They'd refused to give her up, protecting her as much as possible. She often wondered if it had been worth the effort. Even when she didn't want to be a bother, she found herself getting in someone's way.

  Max whined, and she knew he was trying to calm her. That only made her feel worse. Self-loathing ate away at her, making her feel weak. Over the last few months, her inadequacies seemed to multiply and worsen. No one had the ability to pull her out of her dark musings, although her grandparents had really tried.

  Luna gasped when the wolf stirred, coming to life.

  Then she felt its claws ripping at her skin.

  Like it's going to break free.

  That shouldn't have been possible.

  The meds always kept the beast sedated, ensuring she wouldn't shift during the full moon. Usually, she couldn't sense the animal. That was no longer the case. The beast wouldn't be denied, giving itself a firm shake, chewing through the cobwebs and stupor, going into protective mode.

  Doubt dissipated, becoming determination.

  Things wouldn't end here, not by a long shot. They were going to survive, period. And so was Max. Because the wolf was determined to make it so. The wolf didn't believe in fate. The beast existed on sheer strength of will. Luna didn't resist, allowing the animal to gain clarity, letting her bestial half rise. Her skin hummed and her perception changed. The medication allowed her to maintain some control, but she still had to get her bearings.

  In order to get out, she had to see.

  Luna was blind, but the wolf wasn't.

  Not exactly.

  Licking her lips, she braced herself and hollered, "Max!"

  It felt like a knife slammed through her temples.

  She cried out in misery, aware doing so would hurt, knowing the sound was necessary. Colors flashed, pulsed, and started fading. She focused on the shadows along the contoured shades, attempting to decipher shapes, forms, and the surrounding area. Th
e car had flipped and landed on its side. It only took a moment for her to realize she was still in her seat, her side resting against the door. She moved her hand to see how bad the damage was, finding herself grateful adrenaline had flooded her system and lessened the pain from her injuries.

  She reached for her safety belt and relied on her fingers to sort out the mess. The shoulder harness had snagged beneath her armpit, but the lap portion remained in place. She pressed the buckle with her thumb and sighed in relief when she heard a sharp click. She slid free and the pressure in her chest instantly abated.

  Max barked, his claws tearing at hard plastic.

  The kennel had shifted and wedged directly behind her.

  "I'm coming, boy." Her voice had changed, becoming deep as the wolf grew stronger. Her fingers found the back of the seat, and her nails lengthened. She forced herself upright with sheer determination as she sat up. She had to make it over the obstacle to get to the back. She started climbing onto the crate. "It's going to be okay."

  A warm rush of blood sped down her nose.

  A wound on her head? It had to be.

  Using her fingers to feel the wound, she found her hair clumped and bloody. The injury from her scalp had poured down, cascading along her throat, and soaked her clothing. Disregarding that, she felt the top of the kennel and used it to guide her. She wedged herself between the middle of the van and the rear, finding locations to place her feet and knees, worming her way to her destination.

  In seconds, she was directly on top of the crate.

  Her fingers slipped along the plastic prongs holding the metal grate in place, but she eventually grasped them, squeezed, and struggled to tug the thing open. Soft fur rushed over the back of her hand, followed by a cold nose. She kept her grip on the latch, using all her strength. Hopefully, the crate had kept Max in place and provided some measure of protection. The barrier keeping him inside slowly opened and gave way. The dog squeezed out of the crate when he had enough room, his soft coat brushing over her hand, and immediately came to her.

  A warm tongue swiped at her face, over and over again.

  "We have to get out, Max." Her head was throbbing, and she was getting dizzy. As worried as she was for Maisy, she had to save her own ass first. Since her shirt was soaked with blood, there was a definite chance she was racing against the clock. "Out. Show me out."

  He pawed at something: the back hatch of the van.

  She couldn't open it from here. They had to go around.

  Before she could direct him, she heard the harsh sound of metal being torn apart. Cold wind slammed into her face and punched into her lungs. She was pulled from the top of the kennel, yanked away from the vehicle, and landed on solid ground. The wind went out of her, and she choked on a scream.

  Max growled, a clear indication something was wrong.

  She rotated toward the noise, ready to call for him.

  A loud cry of distress echoed in her ears, followed by a tortured yelp.

  The sound was like lightning over a dark and raging sea, revealing dangerous clouds and waves. Colors merged, blended, and everything came together. While things weren't clear, she made out blurry shapes. Max was on the ground, yelping in terror, struggling like a wild thing. He was being held in place by a sliver of shadow. The fragrance of the canine's fear carried through the air, slamming into her nose.

  Adrenaline and power detonated inside her.

  The wolf was taking over. It had finally had enough.

  Fur burst from Luna's skin, and her bones snapped as they contorted. The shift wasn't coming; the shift was here. The change had never happened this fast, which was a terrifying thing. She went from two legs to four in seconds, in so much pain her screams came out as snarls. As she rose, she shook herself. Guided by scent and shadow, the wolf located her target and charged.

  "Luna!" A familiar voice cried out. "Stop! It's me!"

  Maisy.

  It was too late.

  Her teeth sank into soft flesh and hit bone. She tried to pull back, horrified at her behavior, and her heart sank. There was a reason she had to be drugged during the full moon. Her beast had gone mad when her mate hadn't come to her, lashing out when she gained freedom, full of torment and fury. That hadn't gotten better in the last few months. In fact, it had become a serious problem. There was no rationalizing with the animal. When that part of her took over, it made all the decisions.

  The wolf was in control now.

  Luna had no say in the matter.

  Only the beast had the power to let go.

  Shane Heyward fought to stay in control.

  His wolf was crazed, snarling in his head.

  He took deep breaths, attempting to steady himself.

  The truck jerked as he barreled through a fence and crossed a field, the tires bouncing over the rough terrain, causing him to slide in his seat. The entire pack had heard the collision a mile or two away, and they all knew who was heading to the hunting grounds. Luna Lowe. New to the area. Capable of locating a rogue pack member with her keen sense of smell.

  He'd rushed to the nearest vehicle at the hunting grounds without hesitation, taking off in a truck that had been parked closest and had keys in the ignition. He was truly terrified for the first time in his life. He'd been looking for his mate for so long. He wasn't going to lose her now. Not when he'd finally found her. He tried to see what was ahead of him. A bright glow of headlights in the distance told him he was close, only a couple of hundred yards away. Clenching the steering wheel, he pressed the pedal to the floor, revving the engine.

  His female needed him.

  Get to her. Keep her safe.

  Mine.

  My mate.

  Something hit his bumper, causing him to swerve. With a snarl, he looked into the rearview. A car was riding his ass. He gazed through the window and saw Gertrude and Ben Lowe. Luna's grandparents. They'd followed him and would make it to Luna when he did. Ripping his eyes from them, he looked ahead. Would they approve of him as their grandchild's mate? Did he care? Yes and no.

  He'd do anything to make Luna happy.

  Her wish was his command.

  But he would claim her. Without question.

  She belonged with him. They were made for each other.

  He saw a dark van directly in front of him. The large vehicle had landed on its side, falling midway into a ditch. The back was open. Smoke was pouring from the dented hood. He took a deep breath, drawing air into his lungs. One scent caused his heart to lodge in his throat.

  Metallic, rusty, and fresh.

  Blood.

  He slammed on the breaks, put the engine in park, and opened the door.

  Cold air rushed into his face, the chilly breeze pumping to his lungs. It felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest, his pulse erratic. The wolf within tried to break free, desperate to get to their mate. He forced it back, racing from his truck to the van, fueled by instinct.

  Strong gasoline vapors burned his nose.

  He went for the back hatch, prepared to look inside.

  Luna might be trapped.

  Although he'd never been close to her, he'd heard her voice. One touch and everything would be clear. He'd know her instantly, and she'd know him. The connection between them would flare without question.

  I've waited so long...

  A snarl caused the hair on his nape to rise.

  The rays of the moon broke through the clouds, beams of white highlighting the ground. He glanced back, making sure his mate hadn't been ejected on impact. He saw a raven-haired female struggling to get away from a slim, enraged wolf. The girl's forearm was trapped in the animal's jaws. She'd placed her free hand around the creature's neck, her fingers hidden beneath thick, dark fur. The beast refused to be moved, thrashing its head violently.

  "Let go!" The words were laced with pain and fury.

  He heard a loud crack and knew the woman's arm had been broken, snapped down the center by the wolf's jaws.

  "Let go n
ow. I'm not asking again." The female's voice changed, going from pleading to authoritative. She didn't growl, not exactly. It sounded almost like she was holding something back, afraid to set something free.

  He inhaled, hoping scent would guide him.

  The girl wasn't his mate. She wasn't even human. He tried to see through the fall of her long, thick hair. Her irises were blood-red. He froze, staring at full, parted lips, studying her long and lethal fangs. Then he knew what he was looking at.

  Vampire.

  The wind shifted, and he caught another scent.

  The glorious smell wafted into his nose and stayed there. He ditched the car, running for the pair, and let his beast rise, ready to kill. The vampire wasn't fighting just any wolf.

  It's her.

  Luna.

  Another form rushed into view, Shane realized he was looking at a dirty, obviously injured, dog. Blood stained the German Shepherd's coat, winding from neck to chest. The pitiful canine staggered as it fought to get close to the vampire and Luna. It whined, the sound low and weak, just before it gave a loud whimper, and collapsed.

  "Luna!" Ben shoved Shane aside, knocking him down, and was followed by Gertrude. "Stop!"

  Shane shot to his feet.

  What the fuck?

  "Let her go, right this instant!" Gertrude ordered. "Now, Luna!"

  "Get the bag," Ben instructed, rushing the vampire and werewolf. "We'll have to sedate her. She's not listening."

  "Damn it!" The older woman sounded worried and terrified. She retrieved a red handbag on the ground near the back of the van. She never stopped moving, putting on a burst of speed as she unzipped the small bag and removed a syringe. She extended her arm, offering it to her husband. "Hurry! She'll never forgive herself for hurting Maisy."

  Shane lurched forward to intervene. He reached out, braced to pull Luna away from danger. Her fur brushed his fingers, but she moved too quickly for him to grasp her, jerking from him. She kept going, attacking the awkwardly bent appendage in her teeth, snarling like a wild thing. She buried her claws into the ground, gaining leverage, and started tugging the vampire toward her.