Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
LOGAN
T he woods breathe around me. Early morning mist clings to the ground, wrapping around tree trunks. Every sense heightens as I move through the forest—the smell of damp earth, pine needles crunching silently under my boots, branches swaying overhead.
Movement catches my attention, a flash of blonde through the trees. She’s learning, moving from cover to cover, but her white-blonde hair betrays her in the morning light. I shift deeper into shadow, keeping an eye on her. She tilts her head, scenting the air, and something primal stirs in my chest. The Omega hunting her Alpha. The thought shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is.
She’s got good instincts, I’ll give her that. Keeps the wind in her face and moves quietly, despite her lack of training. Stubborn pride made her refuse the knife I offered at first, but after my persistence, she took it, insisting on leaving it in her room and not on this hunt. Fine by me to give her a weapon to use if she needs it.
I circle around, using the terrain to mask my movement. The forest floor slopes here, creating natural hollows perfect for concealment. She passes within ten feet of my position, completely unaware. The urge to reach out, to grab her, to show her how vulnerable she is, wars with the desire to let her continue tracking me. To see what she’ll do.
Her scent drifts to me on the breeze—sweet peaches and spring flowers, with that underlying sweetness that’s been growing stronger each day. My fingers dig into bark as I fight the instinct to inhale deeply. Tactical error, letting her perfume affect me like this, but damn if I can help it.
A branch snaps somewhere to my left. Not Casey—she’s still in front of me, crouching to examine something on the ground. Probably the mark I deliberately left. Smart girl, picking up on the signs. But the sound...
A young buck emerges from the underbrush, antlers still in velvet. It freezes, seeing me, nostrils flaring. Prey recognizing predator. For a moment, we’re locked in stillness, neither moving. Then its head jerks toward where Casey is, and I see the moment it catches her scent.
The deer bolts, crashing through the forest in panic. Classic prey response—making noise to warn others of danger. Casey’s head snaps up at the sound, and I use the distraction to move positions.
I find higher ground, settling into a natural observation post. She’s methodically quartering the area now.
The sun breaks through the canopy, creating patterns of light and shadow that dance across the forest floor. She moves through them like a ghost, getting closer to my position with each sweep. My training says to relocate, to maintain a better advantage so she won’t find me, but something else, something stronger, keeps me in place.
I want her to find me.
The confession hits hard. I’m compromised. Have been since she first looked at us with defiance instead of fear. Since she offered to help with the heist rather than beg for mercy. Since every interaction started feeling less like a job and more like...
A crow calls overhead, wings black against the grey sky. The sound triggers something?—
"Contact left! Get down!"
The memory slams into me like a physical blow.
Rain drips down my neck as I press against wet bark, grip tight on my rifle. George is bleeding out beside me, his leg shredded by their trap. His breathing comes in short gasps that give away our position with every exhale.
"Leave me." Blood bubbles on his lips. "I’m slowing you down."
"Shut up." The makeshift bandage is soaked through. His blood. Always their blood. "We move together or not at all."
Footsteps in the distance. Getting closer. The hunters becoming the hunted.
"Logan." George’s voice cracks. "You can’t save everyone. Some of us aren’t meant to make it home."
But I couldn’t. I never could. They found us just before dawn. George took two rounds meant for me. I got him to the extraction point, but he was gone before the chopper landed. Just like the others. Always too late. Always?—
Movement near a fallen log snaps me back to the present. I blink away ghosts and focus on the hunt at hand.
The thought brings a growl to my throat. Let her try running. There’s a reason Julian hired us to find her. We’re the best. Though he never mentioned how her scent would affect us, how her sass would get under our skin, how?—
"Tag. You’re it."
Something pokes me hard in the back, and I snap to my feet, whipping around to see Casey standing there with a long branch in her grasp.
The fuck? She snuck up on me ?
She grins, blonde ponytail swinging. Something in my chest cracks open at her playfulness, and I burst out laughing. The sound feels foreign in my throat.
"Is that seriously your tactical approach? Tag?"
"Well, I considered ‘you’re under arrest,’ but felt that might be too cliché." Her nose scrunches. "Though I guess in this case, it’s more accurate."
She tosses the branch aside, hip cocked in those painted-on Gucci jeans Nash bought her. They hug every curve like a second skin, and the cropped top reveals a strip of sun-kissed skin that has my mouth going dry. Perspiration gleams on her brow, and a bead of sweat trails down her neck.
"You know," she continues, oblivious to the effect she’s having. "For a super-secret guy, you weren’t that hard to find."
"Maybe I wanted to be found."
Her eyes narrow. "Why would you want that?"
"To see what you’d do." I step closer, testing. She holds her ground. "To see if you’d run."
"From you?" A challenge flares in her gaze. "I don’t run anymore."
"Everyone runs eventually."
"Speaking from experience?" She grins slyly.
The question hits too close to home. I change tactics.
"You should have taken the knife."
"Why? Planning to attack me out here in the woods?"
"Others might."
"But not you?"
I move closer still. Her pulse jumps at her throat, but she doesn’t back away.
"I’m not the one you should be afraid of."
"No?" Her voice drops lower. "Then why do you smell like danger?"
"Some things can’t be helped."
"Like being constantly on guard?" Her head tilts. "Like needing the hunt?"
"You trying to psychoanalyze me?" She’s good and I like that she doesn't hold back.
"Someone should." She takes a step forward, surprising me. "You think I don’t see it? The way you are always on guard? The way you can’t relax unless you’re in motion?"
"Survival instincts, sugar."
"Addiction." She corrects softly. "To danger. To the edge. To feeling alive."
My jaw clenches. "You don’t know me."
"No?" Another step forward, and this brazen Omega has me more than intrigued. "Then tell me why you really brought me out here. Was it really about training? Or did you need the hunt?"
"Both," I answer truthfully.
"At least you’re honest." Her scent shifts, sweetens. Preheat pheromones are making my head spin.
I move without thinking, backing her against a tree. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away.
"You think you’re not fire? You can understand me that easily?"
"I think..." Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. "I think you’re scared of what happens when the hunt ends. When there’s nothing left to chase."
"There’s always something to chase."
"Is there?" Her hand hovers near my chest without touching. "What if what you’re chasing is right here?"
The growl builds in my chest. Her perfume spikes—arousal, fear, and challenge all mixed together.
"Dangerous game you’re playing."
"You’d know all about those." Her fingers finally make contact, pressing against my thundering heart. "Tell me something, Logan. When was the last time you let yourself feel something besides the hunt?"
I cage her with my arms, hands pressed to the bark on either side of her head. "You asking professionally or personally?"
"Yes."
A laugh escapes me. "You’re impossible."
"You like impossible." Her other hand comes up and traces my jaw. The touch sends electricity down my arms. Fuck, she’s torturing me. "You need it."
"What I need..." I lean closer, inhaling her. "Is for you to stop pushing."
"Or what?"
"Or I might push back."
Her pupils dilate, darkness swallowing brown. "Promise?"
That one word snaps the last thread of my control.
I lean closer, but she moves first, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to mine. The kiss hits like an explosion, shattering every wall I’ve built. Her lips are soft, hesitant at first, then bolder as I respond. She tastes like wild honey, like everything I’ve tried to deny wanting.
My hands slide from the tree to her waist, fingers finding bare skin under her crop top. She gasps into my mouth, the sound breaking something loose in my chest. All my training, all my careful control, undone by one kiss.
"God, you taste like heaven," I murmur against her lips. "Been fighting this since that first day."
She nips my bottom lip.
I lift her like she weighs nothing. Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, bringing us face to face. The position draws a growl from deep in my chest. One hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss while the other supports her weight.
"You’re playing with fire, sugar."
"Maybe I like fire." Her fingers slide into my hair, nails scraping my scalp in a way that makes me shudder. "Maybe I like watching your control slip."
She’s responsive, so goddamn responsive. Every touch draws little sounds from her throat—soft whimpers and breathless moans that drive me wild. Her perfume wraps around me, intensifying with her arousal, with an undertone that speaks of approaching heat.
"You’re fiery," I breathe against her neck. "More dangerous than any target I’ve hunted."
"Says the man who tracks people for a living." She arches as I nip her pulse point. "The big bad Alpha, brought down by one little Omega?"
I capture her lips again, harder this time. No hesitation, no gentleness. Just heat and need and the addictive taste of her on my tongue. She meets my intensity, matching it, challenging it. Her legs tighten around my waist as she arches into me, and the friction draws a groan from my throat.
"Nothing little about the way you kiss," I manage when we break for air. My forehead rests against hers, both of us panting. "Nothing little about what you do to me."
"Yeah?" Her fingers play with the hair at my nape. "And what exactly do I do to you?"
"Make me forget protocol." I trail kisses down her jaw. "Make me want things I shouldn’t."
"Like what?"
"Like fucking you right here." The words slip out, and I hear the gasp in her throat. "Making you mine before anyone else can."
She shivers. "That your tactical assessment talking?"
"That’s pure instinct." I breathe her in. "You’re close to heat, you know that?"
"Not that close. I have time." Her voice hitches as I find a sensitive spot below her ear.
"Yet your scent is getting stronger every day." My teeth graze her skin. "Driving me crazy."
"I don’t want to talk about me right now." She rocks against me deliberately, drawing another growl. "Let’s focus on you and how tightly wound you are, needing to always be in control. Gotta let go a bit."
"Not anymore." I capture her mouth again, pouring everything I can’t say into the kiss. All the fear and need and desperate want. I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her chest pressed against mine, her nipples so hard, I feel them, and the way she wraps against me like we’re made for fucking.
Made for me.
"Logan..." she breathes my name.
"I’ve got you." My lips brush her temple, her cheek, and the corner of her mouth. "When your heat hits…"
She stiffens in my arms.
"…you have three Alphas who?—"
"Put me down." Her voice shakes.
"Casey—"
"Put me down!" She squirms until I have to set her on her feet or risk dropping her. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown, but not from desire anymore. Pure fear floods her scent.
I reach for her. "There’s nothing to be worried about. If you need an Alpha for your heat, you have three?—"
She backs away, shaking her head. The terror in her expression stops me cold. Before I can say another word, she turns and runs toward the house like hell itself is chasing her.
I watch her scramble inside, the door slamming behind her.
"Fuck."
What the hell did I do wrong?
But as I replay her reaction, something clicks. The way she froze at the mention of her heat . The pure panic in her eyes.
What happened to her to make her panic about it?
And why do I suddenly think of Julian and want to put a bullet between his eyes?