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Chapter 2

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

Matthias spared his friend a brief glance. Zane’s brown gaze scanned the forest terrain around them. Late-afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting light and shadow in dappled patterns across the forest floor.

“Relax, Zane, we’ll be fine,” Matthias said, his arms at his sides as he gazed down the trail.

“I don’t trust Rafe Woodland as far as I can throw him,” the guardian muttered, folding his arms.

Matthias’s lips twitched. “Neither do I.” He’d been surprised that Woodland had agreed to parley. Surprised and suspicious.

“We should be doing this in Nightwing. Neutral territory.”

Matthias glanced over his shoulder, looking for any giveaway movement in the underbrush. Nightwing was the home territory for a colony of vampires, spearheaded by the Marchetta family. Well, Vivianne Marchetta. There was a brother, Lucien, but he hadn’t been in the area for years as he headed up the family’s interests on the west coast. “Our deal with Marchetta is for thoroughfare only. If we held this meeting in Nightwing, we’d have a whole bunch of vampires raining down on us.”

“As opposed to a rival pack,” Zane said drily.

Matthias grinned. “You sound scared, Zane.” His grin broadened when his sergeant shot him a dark look. “Besides, I don’t trust Marchetta that much, either.” It had been annoying enough having to enter into talks with Nightwing’s vampire prime, but he didn’t want to further indebt the Alpine pack to the vampires. They could use the Nightwing territory as a shortcut between Alpine and Woodland, but they were to use it as a thoroughfare, not a stopover. He’d agreed readily enough. He didn’t know any wolf who wanted to hang around with a bunch of bats. Besides, their argument was with the Woodland Alpha Prime, not the vamps. If they gave him and his lycans a wide berth, he could do the same.

“I don’t see why we don’t just storm the den.” Zane walked for a couple of steps, then wandered back to him. “The others are ready for it. Hell, they want his blood.”

Matthias’s lips tightened, and he clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Firstly, we have no idea where their den is. Secondly, we all want his blood. Jared was my friend, Zane, as well as my alpha. I hate that he died on my watch, and I’ll do everything in my power to avenge his death. That’s a promise.” He needed the pack to know that.

Zane tilted his head. “Jared’s death wasn’t your fault, Matt. He went out on his own.”

Matthias’s arm dropped back to his side. “He was my alpha. I was his guardian, and he was murdered.” He glanced away. “I let him down.”

In his mind, there was no doubt. Yet again, someone he loved had died on his watch. This time, though, there would be payback.

Zane shook his head as he turned back to the forest. “Nobody blames you for it. Not even Samantha.”

He winced. Samantha Alpine was pregnant with Jared’s baby. That was possibly the hardest part, knowing his good friend wouldn’t be there for the birth of his son, would never hold the babe in his arms, smell his scent, nuzzle noses with him, see him take his first steps, show him how to hunt or talk to him about girls. He wasn’t sure what was worse: having some of those moments and knowing what you were missing out on, or missing out on them altogether.

“I appreciate that,” he said softly. He did, but nothing could erase his own sense of guilt at the murder of his friend. A sound in the distance alerted him, and farther down the track he heard the rustle of wings as birds were startled into flight.

“They’re here,” he murmured.

“I say we kill him now.”

Matthias shook his head. “Diplomacy first.” He shrugged. “Then we kill.”

Rafe Woodland came into view, striding along the track with his shoulders back. His expression was dark, fierce—not in the least contrite or remorseful, Matthias noted. Rafe was followed by four guardians.

“I count six in the fringe,” Zane murmured. Matthias hid his nod by looking down as he casually folded his arms.

“There will be more,” he muttered beneath his breath, before glancing up to meet Rafe’s gaze. He’d expected the alpha prime to stock the forest glade with his supporters, but was mildly impressed by the numbers. Pity. Obviously the alpha prime wasn’t that interested in a peaceful resolution.

Matthias smiled grimly. He was going to enjoy this.

“You’re trespassing,” Rafe said brusquely as he stopped in front of him.

“We’re here under parley.” The very nature of the discussion implied permission to be on the land, from time of entry, for the duration of the talks and until the time of exit.

“Then hurry up and state your terms.” Rafe glanced off into the trees behind Matthias. “What is it you want?”

“Oh, that’s simple,” Matthias answered. “We want you.”

Rafe arched an eyebrow. “Then this is a waste of time. Not happening.” He started to turn away.

Matthias placed his hands on his hips and bent a leg in a relaxed pose. He puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled. “Well, that’s a shame. For you, and for Woodland.”

Rafe paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You conspired with Arthur Armstrong to kill Jared Gray. Armstrong is being handled through Reform Court, but you—your ass is mine.”

Rafe turned. “What if I said I don’t remember? What if I told you I have no recollection of the events leading up to Jared Gray’s death?”

Matthias shook his head. Nothing could excuse what this lycan had done, siding with a human against another of his own kind. “I’d say you were lying to avoid facing punishment.”

Rafe chuckled. “Punishment? You’re not looking for punishment. You’re looking for blood. My blood.”

Matthias nodded. “It’s a start.”

Rafe shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

Matthias stepped closer to the alpha prime to look him straight in the eye. “I’m offering you a limited-time deal. You come with us. Now. We leave Woodland territory, and nobody else needs to get hurt.”

Rafe arched an eyebrow. “Or?”

“Or you hide behind your pack mates, and instigate a pack war. Who knows how many lycans will die?” He was prepared to offer the alpha prime an honorable out. But if the lycan didn’t take it, he was prepared to make the whole pack take responsibility for the tragedy wrought against the Alpine pack.

“On both sides,” Rafe pointed out.

Matthias smiled. “Ah, but you did us wrong, Woodland, and you pissed us off in the process. We will come at you from every angle, with everything we’ve got. Do you really think you’ll win? How are your stocks going? Got enough to feed your pack for the winter?” He knew they were running low. He’d managed to close a number of their borders with neighboring packs, preventing the delivery of much-needed supplies.

Rafe bared his teeth, and Matthias was surprised to see the lycan’s incisors lengthen with a vampiric grace. “You threaten me, and you threaten my pack, under the guise of parley?”

Matthias wouldn’t back down, despite the fangs gleaming in his direction. The audacity of the man angered him. Rafe stood there, and his close friend was in the ground, lifeless, because of this lycan’s selfish ambition.

“I’m telling you how it is,” Matthias rasped, the words emerging from deep within his throat. “And how it will be. Woodland will pay for murdering Jared Gray.” He put all his sincerity and determination behind the vow, leaving the alpha prime in no doubt that he meant what he said.

Rafe smiled, his eyes glittering as he removed the Woodland crest ring he wore on the third finger of his right hand, the symbol of his rank within the pack, and slipped it into his jeans pocket. “Well, I guess that’s the end of parley, then, isn’t it?”

The alpha prime sprang at him, and Matthias grabbed his shoulders, using the momentum to pull him over and hurl him into a giant redwood behind him.

Matthias’s guardians rose from their hiding places, teeth bared, and the forest rumbled with the growls of a dozen lycan warriors as they shifted into beast form and attacked.

Rafe rolled to his feet, glaring at Matthias, who grinned back. Woodland wasn’t the only one to attend parley with backup. Rafe morphed into his beast form, a wolf with jet-black fur, and Matthias did the same, surrendering to his beast, his white fur almost a beacon in the dark forest. The lycans shrugged the remnants of clothes from their bodies as they launched at each other.

Rafe caught him in the shoulder with a meaty paw. Matthias fell back. He snapped at the black wolf, catching him in the chest with a sharp nip before the Woodland Alpha Prime leaped away. Two wolves bounded into the clearing to aid the Woodland pack leader. Matthias whirled and snapped, relinquishing his control to the rage he always carried within. It started low, but rose in a red-hot wave of fury, power coursing through his muscles, through his very blood. He hunkered down, prepared to take on the three large lycans. One charged at him, and Matthias neatly sidestepped, shredding the wolf’s side with his claws as he barreled past.

His heart rate throbbed within his ears, within his chest, as his muscles bunched. A thump on his back propelled him forward, and he rolled, hearing the snap of jaws in his ear as he dodged a nasty bite. He kicked at the attacking wolf with force, sending him back awkwardly against a large boulder, and he heard the crack of the wolf’s head against stone.

The large black wolf charged, and they both rolled in the dirt and pine needles, snapping and growling. Matthias jerked his head back from the alpha prime’s jaws, and the wolf ended up biting on the chain around his neck instead. Instantly Matthias morphed, grabbing the snout of the lycan to prevent the chain from snapping. For a moment they glared at each other, man to wolf. As realization dawned in the lycan’s eyes, Matthias moved. A series of quick, hard jabs to the wolf’s soft belly, and the Woodland Alpha Prime was forced to open his mouth to suck in tortured gasps.

Matthias rescued the chain, morphing back into his beast form. He glanced around the clearing. His men were vastly outnumbered, although they held their own against the Woodland guardians. He turned to face the black wolf. Woodland lifted his head and howled. Matthias gritted his teeth. It was a call for reinforcements.

* * *

Trinity froze as the call of the lycans echoed through the forest. She glanced about, trying to gauge the direction of the alarm. Another howl echoed through the forest, a voice she didn’t recognize.

A trespasser. Someone else was in the forest, someone other than Woodland.

“What’s that?” Jax asked, his young eyes wide as he came bounding out of the underbrush.

“Time to go home.” She’d had to clear this excursion with Rafe himself. All trips into the forest were assessed with care, so the noises startled her out of her relaxed state, her heart pounding at the rude shock.

She whistled, and one by one, her class of juniors came running through the forest toward her. Her fists clenched as she counted them off on return, nodding with relief when she had full attendance. Their tracking exercise had just been cut drastically short.

She beckoned them into a huddle. “Follow me. Do not stray. Do not wander off. Do not make a sound, okay?”

The young children nodded, eyes wide in pale faces and she gave them all a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, guys. This is just a drill—but we do drills exactly like the real thing, don’t we?” She tried to make the lie as convincing as possible. They’d never had a drill for anything like this, with the sounds of fighting echoing through the forest.

The kids still looked a little anxious, so she tried again. “First one back to the hall gets a treat.” She started jogging cross-country, checking over her shoulder to ensure each of her wards were following closely. Ducking under ferns, leaping over logs, the children ran silently through the forest.

Trinity could hear the grunts and growls in the distance, and her heart hammered in her chest. The kids. She had to get the kids to safety. There would be time enough later to find out what had made hell break loose in the woods.

She skidded to a stop at the foot of the mountain and heaved against a massive boulder. It shifted slowly to reveal a dark hole, one that would just fit her if she bent over double.

“Go here,” she ordered to the first child who reached her.

“But it’s dark,” the girl whispered, shrinking back.

Trinity winked. “It’s okay, Mia. The dark can be your friend,” she whispered back. “It can hug you and hide you. Don’t worry, it’s only dark until the first intersection.” She’d learned that the dark could protect, could hide, could reveal all sorts of secrets.

“What if we get lost?” Mia whimpered.

“You won’t. Keep turning right, and you’ll end up in the laundry.” She knew all of the tunnels within the mountain like the back of her hand, knew exactly the quickest, shortest route to safety for her pups. “When you’re all inside, go and wait for me in the great hall. Now go.”

She put her hand over the child’s head, guiding her through the opening so that she wouldn’t bump into the rock face, then helped the next child, then the next. Seven. Eight. Trinity frowned. Where was number nine?

“Who’s missing?” she grabbed the disappearing ankle of the last child in the line as she mentally reviewed the names of the children who’d passed. “Jax. Where’s Jax?”

The little boy shrugged. “He saw a trail.”

Trinity swore under her breath. Great. The too-curious kid was wandering into a battle zone. “Go on,” she muttered. “Get back to the others, and stick together in the great hall until your parents come and collect you, okay?”

The boy nodded, then started crawling again, and Trinity pushed against the boulder until it concealed the bolt-hole, then took off running up the path, her eyes scanning the undergrowth for signs of Jax’s trail. When she got her hands on that kid...

She spied a branch that was snapped but not fallen. It had caught on another branch, indicating the direction the boy had taken. She skidded a little as she changed direction, following the slight indentation in the loamy soil here, the break of a branch there, the gap in a bush further along. Her heart pounding, she jumped over fallen logs, ducked under branches, and sprinted along paths that weren’t really paths at all, merely vague impressions of a little boy’s passing. Little trails worn by smaller creatures through the forest that unfolded at the same breakneck pace she ran. She had a skill for spying tracks and trails, no matter how faint, how old, how unused—or how newly trodden by a five-year-old pup.

Birds screeched and flew overhead, and she almost tripped over a rabbit as it bounded across her path. Something was going on, something big. She tucked her elbows in against her sides, fingers straight and rigid as she pumped her legs faster. Trees whizzed past her in a blur. She catalogued each little sign of Jax’s trail, then skidded to a stop, her chest heaving, her eyes wide.

Jax stood on the tips of his toes by a tree, his hooded sweatshirt clutched by a tall, bearded lycan. The man wore only a pair of camouflage pants. No shirt, no shoes. He was streaked with dirt and blood, and his expression was fierce as he gazed back at her.

“Let him go,” she said, her voice low. Despite the panic, the fear, her words came out dead calm. She stepped closer, just once, and the man backed away, pulling Jax along with him. Anger flared inside her. Jax was a pup, damn it. A Woodland pup. Nobody threatened her pups.

The boy whimpered, his eyes round with fear.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she said in a soothing voice, although her gaze didn’t shift from the lycan. “You will not hurt him,” she said, her tone low and heavy with warning. If he so much as hurt a hair on Jax’s head, she would kill him. Or at least try to. Her skills weren’t in fighting. Her eyes narrowed. There was only one of him, and although he was big and obviously a warrior while she was neither, she was prepared to try and take him down, if only to give Jax an opportunity to escape.

“I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to release him,” she said, edging closer. The lycan narrowed his eyes.

“One,” she said slowly, then launched herself at him, using the element of surprise as an advantage.

A heavy body slammed into her side and she was caught in midair and knocked off target. She rolled in the dirt, trying to escape the weight, fists and feet lashing out, cursing herself for her mistake. He wasn’t alone. Flashes of tanned skin and white-blond hair made brief impressions as she tried to keep some momentum, to roll away. She heard a muffled oof as her fist connected with something firm and warm, then she grunted as her back was slammed against the dirt, and something hard, muscled and strong slammed against her front. Her wrists were grasped and shoved above her head, and she shook her hair out of her eyes as she glared at the shirtless lycan lying on top of her.

“Someone can’t count,” he commented drily, staring down at her, a grin sliding over his lips.

Lycan Unleashed

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