Lycan Unleashed

He listened as the guardian walked away through the forest. When they turned down the trail, she dropped the smile and turned back to fix him with a steely glare. Not just a fighter, she had the ferocious spirit of a warrior, he realized, intrigued by the visible resolve as her eyes shifted to a steely blue.

“You’ve got what you want, now get off me,” she snapped. She moved under him, trying to pull her wrists out of his grasp.

He relaxed, his chest lowering to press against hers. Her gaze flicked up to him, and he could feel her heart pounding against his. There was something in her eyes... It wasn’t fear; it was an awareness, a flare of something warmer. Desire. He could see it, he could smell it. He could feel it as her breasts swelled beneath him, her nipples a sweet torment as they peaked against his chest.

“Oh, honey, you have no idea what I want,” he murmured as he inhaled her sweet essence again. It was pure seduction, her scent. He trailed his nose along her jaw, and smiled when she rolled her head, arching her neck to give him better access. He sank into her, relishing the feel of her body against his. Her body was lithe and toned, but she was soft and curvy where it counted, and undeniably feminine.

Luscious. He wanted to dive into her, and not come up for air. He slid his hands down her arms, feeling the shape of her limbs through her lightweight jacket. She sighed, then inhaled, her breasts pressing firmer against his chest, against the chain he wore. He smiled as her legs widened, and he rolled his hips against hers. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, then delved into his hair, her short nails scoring in a delicious, sensual massage against his scalp. He was as hard as granite, utterly consumed by the need to have this woman.

He trailed his hands down to cup her breasts, and she moaned, flexing her hips against his in response. His need to have her grew. He molded the soft flesh in his hands, taking his time to learn their weight, their shape, her nipples pressing into his palms like hard little studs. He was about to combust. She dragged her nails down his back, and he shuddered in ecstasy.

“Trinity.” That’s what the boy had called her. Trinity. He tasted the name on his lips. He liked it. He rubbed his erection against her, trying to alleviate the pressure, the ache, but her heat increased, as did his need for her. She stiffened beneath him.

“God, what am I doing?” she rasped.

“Getting to know me,” he said as he nuzzled her neck.

“No.”

“Are you sure? It damn well feels like it. Your hands are in my pants.”

Her hands clenched, her nails digging into his buttocks where they’d slid beneath the band of his trousers. Then she pulled them out as though they were burning. “Holy smoke,” she whispered.

He groaned. He was burning. A molten mess of burning need. For her. For Trinity. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this intense desire, this consuming drive to become part of another lycan. Not even with Cara.

He rose to his feet, grasping the tracker and dragging her up to stand. He held her close, peering into her eyes. They weren’t cold and steely anymore; they were dark and turbulent, full of stunned dismay and smoking-hot desire. His eyes narrowed. She’d made him burn, damn it.

Nobody made him burn. He took pride in his self-control, in his self-imposed punishment, and all it took was one tackle with this she-wolf and he was ready to forget everything, forget his plans, forget Jared, forget the rest of the pack that looked to him to avenge their alpha prime’s death. All for a roll with the enemy.

He nudged her in the direction Zane had taken with the boy. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Trin resisted, turning back to face him again. She stared at the muscled figure for a moment, her body humming. Holy smoke, indeed. Like his friend, this lycan wore only a pair of low-riding camouflage pants, the button undone, revealing a tantalizing patch of golden skin before the fabric covered a noticeable bulge that seemed to match in scale the rest of him. She’d thought the other lycan was big. Good grief. This lycan towered over her, his shoulders so broad and thickly roped with muscle. Smudges of dirt and blood covered him, his short white-blond hair a stark contrast against the tanned skin and dirt. His eyes, staring back at her so solemnly, were a beautiful green.

He was beautiful. She should have been grossed out by the gore and filth, but there was something so magnetic, so charismatic, that all she could see were those beautiful green eyes, that stunning chest. He wore a gold chain around his neck, a ring resting in the dip between his chest muscles. Perspiration slicked his skin, turning his pectoral muscles and deeply-ridged six-pack into a shiny playground begging for a woman’s fingers. Her fingers. Her gaze dipped. He had an old scar that slashed across his abdomen, yet it only added to the sexy, dangerous air about him. He was muscled and toned everywhere, no spare fat. She sucked in her breath. She’d seen some good-looking lycans, but she’d never had such a bone-deep, compelling reaction to anyone before. At least, not in her pack.

But he was Alpine, and he was here, in Woodland territory. She wasn’t quite sure of the details, but she wasn’t stupid. That howl to war had everything to do with the man in front of her. She released her breath, letting it out slowly, grabbing on to some measure of calm.

“Who are you?” She took a step back, trying to put some distance, some perspective, between them. Good grief, he was Alpine. She should be howling to the skies, calling her pack—not that any would be racing to rescue her, with her current standing within the group, but still, she should be raising an alarm, and doing her utmost to fight him. Although, he was such a massive unit, and she was just a tracker; she didn’t like the odds of facing him down. Jax. She had to get back to Jax, get him to the safety of their den, such as it was with Rafe in charge.

“Matthias Marshall,” he said, inclining his head.

Cold crept over her shoulders, despite the jacket and the heat generated from their physical tussle.

“You’re Alpine’s guardian prime,” she said, eyeing the woods. Of all the damn lycans to run into, this one had to be the worst. The calm she’d so carefully manufactured now fled. She knew of his reputation—hell, all of Woodland had been talking of nothing else since that communication came through yesterday. He’d sworn vengeance against Woodland Pack for their part in the murder of his alpha prime, Jared Gray. He’d successfully applied to enforce tribal law against Woodland, and so far he’d made their lives difficult. Uncomfortable. Borderline hell. She swallowed. And now he stood before her, all six feet three inches of vengeful, ruthless, sexy—no, damn it—relentless and pumped-up guardian.

“And you’re the infamous Woodland tracker,” he commented, folding his arms.

She swallowed again. He knew who she was. She didn’t really want him to know who she was. She lived a largely anonymous life within her pack, had gotten used to being ignored. He wasn’t ignoring her, though. He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her closely.

“I’m surprised they let you out unguarded,” he murmured.

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t they? I’m a tracker.” Her position within the pack implied a certain level of competency with looking after herself. Of course, when faced with this hulking guardian prime, she wasn’t sure if even Woodland’s first-tier guardians could match him. “Besides, we’re not expecting Alpine to trespass,” she said pointedly as she folded her arms, mimicking his stance. “You and your men need to leave.” With the current tensions between the packs, their presence would start a fight that would quickly escalate, considering her alpha prime’s easy-to-fire temper.

She lifted her chin. “It’s not safe for you here. Let the boy go, leave the area and I’ll allow you the opportunity to retreat.” Rafe would probably have her hide for letting them go, but her goal was to protect the rest of the pack. Having these lycans in Woodland territory—especially this guardian prime—would result in a fight, perhaps even a war, and she didn’t want her pack hurt. Judging by the size of this lycan, there would be many casualties.

Matthias arched an eyebrow. “You’ll allow me the opportunity to retreat?” His breathless chuckle was incredulous, then he stopped laughing. He unfolded his arms and strode toward her, stalking her as she tried to back away. She halted when her back bumped into a tree. “I’m not trespassing,” he grated as he came up close to her, bracing his hands against the trunk, enclosing her in a confined space within his arms. His broad chest pressed against hers, trapping her against the tree. This lycan had no concept of personal space. She lifted her gaze from the muscled shoulders, the defined biceps that cut off any avenue of escape. She took a deep breath, and was surprised by how pleasing his scent was, all mossy and pine, with a hint of something deeper, a musk that was all enticingly male. His expression was harsh as he glared down at her.

“My men and I came here under parley,” he growled, his eyes flashing. “We came to talk. Your alpha prime broke parley and attacked.”

She shook her head, a frown pinching her forehead. “We wouldn’t...” her voice trailed off. Actually, knowing Rafe, he probably would. His impetuous actions were what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. But to break parley, to violate discussions under truce—that was an act of dishonor. She couldn’t accept that her pack would behave like that. “No...” she said, shaking her head.

He nodded. “Yes. And you know what that means, don’t you, Tracker?”

She swallowed. It meant pack war. It meant that borders would not be respected. It meant attacks and assaults, until one pack submitted to the other. It meant many lives were at risk.

He’d already managed to halt their supplies, and winter was coming. How long would they be able to hold out? They would grow hungry, they would weaken, but her pack would fight to the death before they surrendered. Rafe would see to it.

“You can stop this,” she said, striving for calm in the face of his brutal intention. “We are the same tribe. We have young, we have old—just like Alpine. What you have planned... This will ruin our pack, and it could ruin yours. Is that what you want? To kill families?”

Something flickered in his gaze, something dark, pained and sad, but then it was gone as he blinked. He shook his head as he leaned closer. “You’ve brought this upon yourselves.”

He was so big he loomed over her, crowding her. All glorious golden skin and brittle eyes. But she was a former Scion, damn it. The daughter of an alpha prime. She would not be cowed. She shoved at him, with the result of him moving not at all. She didn’t think her effort even registered with him. She tilted her head back against the rough bark of the tree.

“What happened to your alpha prime—I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “It wasn’t—nice.” No. It wasn’t nice at all. Jared Gray’s murder in a dentist’s chair had sent shock waves throughout the tribes, for a leader to be killed that way. But the dentist had maintained his innocence, and it wasn’t until her own alpha prime had coordinated the abduction of the dentist and his half-blood vampire lawyer from Nightwing territory that she and most of her pack learned of their involvement in the event.

Matthias’s eyes rounded. “Not nice? Well, that’s one way of putting it. Not nice.” He shook his head, then tugged on her belt and hauled her close to him. “Your pack wounded mine. Your pack killed my alpha prime, and now your pack will pay for it.”

She tried to wriggle away from him, but he started to unbuckle her belt. Panic shot through her, and she shook her head. “No,” she gasped, trying to halt his efforts. He was so big, so strong, and she could feel the anger roiling beneath him, as though all it would take was the faintest spark to unleash the fire of his fury. “Please, no.” She tried to escape, but he pulled her back. She felt the tug on her belt, then the release as the clasp was undone, and the leather slid out of the loops of her jeans. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Rape won’t solve anything,” she gasped as he grabbed her wrists.

He froze, then lifted his gaze from where he clasped her, the surprise in his face dissolving into an exasperation tinged with hurt.

“I’m not— I wouldn’t—” He snapped his lips shut for a moment, his eyebrows golden slashes pulling into the center of his forehead. She could see he’d taken offense to her words. She gaped at him. Was that...was that a blush?

“I don’t force myself onto women,” he said with a quiet dignity. He wrapped the belt around her left wrist, his pec muscles rippling with the movement, then looped it around his right wrist, securing it so that they were belted together. He held their bound wrists up between them. “But I will do whatever it takes to make Woodland pay for what they did to us, and you’re going to help.”

He tugged her farther into the forest. If they didn’t have Jax, she would have fought. As it was, the thought of the young boy had her reluctantly following him.

Chapter 4

Matthias looked to the opposite side of the fire, watching the tracker offer the boy some cooked rabbit. She’d followed him without resistance, but he didn’t fool himself. The reason she’d been so cooperative was currently sitting right beside her, her arm curled protectively around him.

The firelight glimmered against the copper strands in her hair, bathing her features in a soft glow as she said something that made the boy laugh. She smiled, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she glanced about the campsite, her gaze assessing. For a brief moment their eyes met, and then she looked away. He frowned. He was still stunned, and slightly abashed, that she’d thought he’d force himself on her. That had hurt. That and the fact that she now tried to shield the boy from him and his lycans. The young pup shot him a curious glance, and he winked. He was rewarded with a tentative smile.

He knew what she thought, what she feared, and was willing to use it to his advantage. But there was no way he would ever hurt a pup. Nor would he hurt a woman. Sure, his physical reaction to her was...intense, but he’d never physically force a woman to submit to him. Hell, he hadn’t been remotely interested in a woman since—well, not in a long time. Something about this tracker, though, made him forget his control, forget his own rules, forget that which drove him hardest. He glanced around the campsite, at the lycans who had accepted him into their den, into their pack, and who now looked to him for leadership. When Jared had adopted him into Alpine Pack, nobody could have guessed he would one day become their guardian prime, but in the three years he’d lived with them, he had. He’d earned their trust and loyalty. He wouldn’t let them down. Not again.

Night had fallen, and he and his lycans had gathered at the meeting point. They were still in Woodland territory, but very close to the Nightwing border, and there was little chance of the Woodland shifters tracking them here, tonight. Woodland would have to tend to their injured and ensure their home den was secure before setting out to hunt for the Alpine guardians. He’d planned for a scattered retreat, and he and his guardians had laid plenty of false trails before finally descending upon their rendezvous point. He eyed the woman across the campsite. Holding the Woodland Tracker Prime would restrict their enemy’s ability to locate them—at least for a while.

Smokey rabbit and pine scented the air, along with the stringent scent of medicinal body rubs and antiseptic creams as the Alpine lycans tended to their injured. Fortunately that nose-burning smell masked the hypnotic fragrance of the woman who even now he couldn’t dislodge from his thoughts. She was delectable. He could lose himself in her scent, in her body—and that made him equal parts angry and scared as a day-old pup caught in a summer storm.

A movement caught his eye, and he looked up. Zane was trying to catch his attention. He walked around to his second-in-command, stopping to chat with some of the injured guardians. Fortunately there were no deaths in today’s skirmish—but it wasn’t for lack of trying on Woodland’s part. Today, Alpine had retreated. His lips pressed into a firm line. His expectations for the outcome of talks hadn’t been high, but damn, things had gone haywire. He didn’t think highly of Rafe Woodland, yet had still been surprised when the alpha prime had attacked under parley. He smiled. He didn’t mind. They now had just cause to launch attack after attack on the enemy pack.

Zane beckoned him over to the pickup truck parked a short distance away from the camp. Matthias caught the eye of Kai, one of his guardians, and gestured toward the tracker. He didn’t want her to think this was an opportunity to escape. Kai nodded and casually strolled to take up a position behind Trinity and the boy.

“What’s up?” he asked Zane as he met him and Nate Baxter, another first-tier guardian and valued sergeant, at the pickup.

Zane rolled out a map onto the hood of the car, and clicked on his flashlight. “You were right. Woodland has gone to ground. Nate and a couple of the others tried to track them, but they’ve disappeared.”

Nate sighed. “Like ghosts. Poof.”

Matthias took the flashlight and scanned the map, then frowned. He shook his head. “Are you sure this is the most current map?”

Zane nodded, his lips pursed. “Yeah. I know all the packs like to keep some of their trails hidden, but Woodland takes secrecy to a new level.”

“I even cross-checked with satellite imagery,” Nate said. “The trees effectively mask many of their trails. This is the best we can get.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the document. “Rafe Woodland doesn’t trust easily.”

“Rafe Woodland doesn’t trust at all,” Zane muttered. “We’d do well to remember that. Someone who doesn’t trust easily isn’t trustworthy, as he proved today. Although that tracker could prove useful...” His voice trailed off in suggestion.

Matthias kept his eyes glued to the map, and merely grunted a response. He’d been thinking of little else since he’d dragged her into camp late that afternoon. That woman, that...she-wolf. Her long legs, narrow waist, and gentle swell of hip and breast—she was beautiful, in a lithe, natural kind of way. There was something about her that called to him, that stirred his beast, that tightened his body with a need he didn’t appreciate and could barely control.

“You two certainly had an—intimate—connection,” Zane drawled, leaning his hip against the truck.

“Oh, really?” Nate inquired. Matthias fought the inclination to growl at his pack mates. He wasn’t in the mood for any of their teasing.

Zane nodded. “Oh, yeah. Thought he was going to imprint on her,” he admitted in a stage whisper to Nate.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s more than he’s done with any of our pack,” Nate murmured.

This time Matthias did growl, the sound low and soft yet nonetheless clear in its warning.

Nate folded his arms and looked expectantly at Matthias. “You say so much when you say nothing, Matt.”

Matthias shook his head, his lips tight. “She’s Woodland.” That pretty much said it all. Her pack had conspired to kill his friend.

Zane shrugged. “She’s hot.”

“That she is,” Nate commented, his tone light with interest, and it was all Matthias could do to stop the snarl forming in his throat.

Zane nodded, then glanced back at Matthias. “Two months ago you were the guardian to stop us all going on a pack hunt, Matt—no matter how much I tried to convince you. I would have thought you, of all people, would be prepared to overlook her...shortcomings.”

This time Matthias did look up at his friend. Zane had this knack for making him feel ancient. His friend liked to act now, and think through things later. Maybe. Matthias had never thought he’d be the cautious one, the voice of reason, but he’d learned his lessons the hard way. Sometimes it paid to do the homework.

“I stopped the pack hunt because we didn’t know what we were up against—we still don’t know,” he said in a low voice. “Woodland haven’t welcomed visitors in years, not since their previous alpha prime died. We have no idea how strong they are, how many there are or how they act. Hell, we can’t even get an accurate map of their territory. We learned today that observing the normal rules of engagement won’t work with Woodland. We’ll fight, but we’ll be smart about it.”

Zane frowned. “They killed Jared. They all deserve to die.”

“And that’s why I’m guardian prime, and you’re not,” Matthias said shortly, then leaned forward, crossing his arms over the hood of the pickup. “Just a minute ago you were commenting on the sexy Woodland tracker, now you want me to kill her? What about the pups? Would you kill them? The juveniles? The elders?”

Zane looked down at the toes of his boots. “Of course not.”

“We want them to pay, though,” Nate said quietly.

Matthias nodded. “Hell, yeah. Jared was a good man, and a great alpha. He didn’t deserve to die, not that way.”

When the conspiracy between Woodland Pack and one of Irondell’s so-called pillars of society, Arthur Armstrong, was revealed, it had been all he could do to keep the Alpine pack from wreaking revenge on Woodland, Nightwing and Irondell—an act that would have cost them dearly.

Armstrong was currently rotting in a prison cell, but Woodland Pack’s involvement meant a crime was committed by lycan against lycan, and justice came under tribal jurisdiction. It was Alpine’s privilege—and duty—to serve justice to those within the pack responsible for the murder of their alpha.

So it didn’t matter how hot, how sexy, how damn desirable their tracker was, she was the enemy. If she was in any way involved, she would pay, along with the rest of her pack.

“I’ll be the first one to admit I want blood for blood for Jared’s death,” he said in a low voice. He shifted his gaze between Zane and Nate. “And I’ll do whatever it takes, but no justice is served if we kill any innocents. It wouldn’t honor Jared.”

Both men dropped their gazes, but he could see he was getting through to them.

“For the record, I said she was hot. You’re the one that came up with sexy,” Zane grumbled.

Matthias decided to ignore that. He turned to Nate. “You saw the numbers Rafe Woodland had at his disposal. We’re going to need reinforcements. Go back home and call up another guardian squad, but make sure there are still some left behind at Alpine. I don’t want Samantha left vulnerable.”

As Jared’s pregnant widowed mate, Samantha Alpine had stepped into the alpha prime role in Alpine Pack when her partner was killed. Not many knew of the discussion she’d had with him prior to doing so. Nobody else knew she’d offered him the prime position. He clenched his teeth. He couldn’t accept, though. He had been Jared’s guardian prime, and Jared had died under his service. He wasn’t fit to be an alpha prime, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to leave Samantha defenseless while he avenged his alpha’s death.

“Do you think a squad is enough?” Zane asked, his brow furrowing.

Matthias grinned. “Sometimes you need a better weapon than sheer brawn,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder at Trinity, now playing a game in the dirt with the pup.

Zane sighed. “Fine. So we have the Woodland tracker—what if we use her as a bargaining chip? Exchange the tracker for the alpha prime?”

Matthias had to clamp down on his instinctive refusal. It was reflexive and purely selfish. He wanted to spend more time with the tracker, although Zane’s proposition had merit. If Woodland’s alpha prime agreed, then it would mean limiting the risk of casualties and deaths on both sides. And it meant that the alpha prime could save face. He’d be saving one of his own, an honorable surrender.

He sighed. “Fine. Send a message through to Woodland proposing the exchange. In the meantime, let’s get those extra guardians down here.” He glanced at Nate, who nodded.