Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
They ran through the forest, snow flying from their boots.
Brie’s lungs burned from the cold air and fear, branches whipping past as they raced back toward the cabin.
The peaceful morning had shattered into something nightmarish, and she couldn’t shake the image of Brennan’s convulsing body, the way his shifts had gone violently wrong.
The cabin appeared through the trees. Hunter took the porch steps two at a time, Brie right behind him. Inside, he went straight for the satellite phone mounted on the wall near the kitchen.
“Dom.” Hunter’s voice was clipped, professional, the soldier emerging. “Brennan is at Crystal Lake. North shore, about three hundred yards from the cabin across the water. He’s alive but incapacitated.”
Brie couldn’t hear Dom’s response, but Hunter’s expression stayed grim as he continued.
“No, you need to see this to understand. It looks like he’s been testing the shifter drug on himself.
Multiple forced shifts, complete loss of control.
His transformation ability is destroyed.
” He paused, listening. “I don’t know if he’s dead or dying, but he’s not moving. How fast can you get the feds up here?”
Another pause. Hunter checked his watch. “Copy that. We’re heading down the mountain now. You’ll have to secure him without us.”
When he hung up, his jaw was tight. “Forty-five minutes. They’re mobilizing now.”
“Should we stay?” Brie asked, though part of her desperately wanted to leave, to get away from what they’d seen. “To keep eyes on him?”
Hunter was already moving, starting down the hall to the bedroom. “No. If the cartel’s watching him, we could be walking into an ambush. The pack and the feds can handle it.” He stopped, meeting her eyes. “My priority is getting you somewhere safe.”
They packed in minutes, the efficient movements so different from their leisurely arrival yesterday. The playfulness of the day before felt like it had happened years ago.
Outside, the thin layer of snow was beginning to melt.
Hunter did a final scan of the area, his hand hovering near his concealed carry.
He then opened her door. She climbed into the truck, and he was behind the wheel moments later, engine turning over with a rumble that seemed too loud in the mountain silence.
The drive down started in tense quiet. Hunter navigated the slick road with careful urgency, his hands steady on the wheel despite the way his jaw kept clenching. Brie stared out the window, seeing nothing, replaying the scene at the lake over and over.
“He destroyed himself.” The words came out before she could stop them.
Hunter glanced at her, then back to the road as they rounded a curve. “Yeah.”
“That drug he created, it was supposed to enslave shifters. Make them addicted, controllable.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “But it just... broke him. Took away the most fundamental thing about what we are.”
“That’s the horror of it. He knew exactly what it would do, and he still created it. Still tested it on himself.”
The implications settled over her. “If he tested it on himself, do you think he gave it to others? Those men who tried to kidnap me, could they have been shifters too? Taking his drug?”
Hunter’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. It’s possible.” He was quiet for a moment, navigating around a patch of ice. “The cartel’s been using shifters as muscle for years. If Brennan promised them enhanced soldiers, they might have tested it on their own people.”
“And instead they got...” Brie couldn’t finish the sentence. The image of Brennan’s final convulsions was too fresh.
“Exactly.” Hunter reached across the console, finding her hand.
She held on tight, needing the anchor of his touch. The truck descended steadily, leaving the snow behind as they dropped in elevation. Trees thinned slightly, the road improving as they got closer to civilization.
They drove faster, the mountain road giving way to the outskirts of Fate Mountain Village. When they pulled up to her apartment building, the early afternoon sun was trying to break through the gray clouds. Hunter parked and was around to her side before she could open her door.
His phone rang as they were unloading their bags from the backseat. He answered immediately, phone pressed to his ear. “Dom.”
Hunter’s face turned hard. “What do you mean he’s not there?”
She froze on the stairs leading to her building entrance, bag forgotten on her shoulder.
Hunter started pacing, three steps one way, three steps back, caged animal energy barely contained. “We saw him. He was down. He wasn’t moving.” A pause, listening. “How the hell did he get away?”
Dom’s voice carried faintly through the phone, tinny and distant. Brie caught fragments: “tracks in the snow” and “vehicle” and “twenty minutes.”
“He’s gone.” Hunter slammed his palm against the truck’s side panel, the sound cracking through the quiet parking lot.
Brie’s knees felt weak. She sat down hard on the stairs, her bag sliding to the concrete beside her. If Brennan had managed to escape…
Hunter was getting details now, his questions rapid-fire. “Tracks? Which direction?” Pause. “Blood trail?” Another pause, his expression darkening further. “How much? Right. So, he was mobile enough to move on his own.”
Dom’s response was longer this time. Hunter stood perfectly still, listening, his eyes distant as he processed information.
He ended the call, stood there for a moment staring at his phone, then looked up at Brie sitting on the stairs.
“Is he alive?”
“Dom thinks so. There was blood in the snow but not enough for a fatal wound. The tracks show he dragged himself to the tree line, then disappeared. Either he shifted again or found somewhere to hole up.” Hunter climbed the stairs, sitting beside her.
“He’s out there somewhere, still unstable, still dangerous. ”
Inside her apartment, Hunter went through his now-familiar routine, checking every room, every window, every lock.
Brie stood in the middle of her living room, bags at her feet, not knowing what to do with herself.
The peaceful weekend at the lake felt like it had happened to different people, in a different lifetime.
When Hunter emerged from her bedroom, he pulled her into his arms without a word. She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent, trying to ground herself in something real.
“I’m sorry,” he said into her hair. “I wanted to give you one day without all this hanging over us.”
“It’s not your fault.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt. “At least we know he’s alive now.”
Hunter pulled back slightly, looking down at her. “Is that better or worse?”
She didn’t have an answer.