Chapter 12 #2
“You hover.” Viktor’s gaze shifted to Lena, softening almost imperceptibly. “Take her home. Give her the life she deserves. I will handle things here.” He gripped my shoulder, mindful of his wounds, and held my gaze. “Go home, brother. I will send word when we have something.”
“Viktor.” I covered his hand with mine, trying to find words for the gratitude that threatened to overwhelm me. “What you did today. What you risked.”
“Do not.” Viktor’s voice was rough. “You would have done the same for me. That is what brothers do.” He released me and stepped back, the moment of vulnerability passing as quickly as it had come. “Now go. I have a pack to run, and you are cluttering up my territory.”
Lena stepped forward and, to my surprise, wrapped her arms around Viktor in a brief, fierce hug. He went still, clearly unused to the gesture, before his hand came up to pat her back awkwardly. She smelled like relief and gratitude and the faint salt of tears she was trying not to shed.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “For everything.”
“You are pack now,” Viktor replied, his voice gruff. “Pack protects its own.” He stepped back and nodded to Dmitri. “See them safely to the edge of our territory. Then return. I will need you here.”
Dmitri inclined his head. “Yes, Pakhan.”
The title sounded strange applied to Viktor, but it fit. It had always fit. Max had just been too blind to see the threat sleeping in his own house.
We left the clearing as the sun climbed higher, the frost giving way to damp earth and the rich scent of pine warming in the morning light.
The air was clean here, sharp with cold and the wild smell of the mountains.
I breathed it in and let it settle into my lungs, into my wolf, into the newly restored pack bonds humming at the edges of my awareness.
I shifted to wolf form, the change coming easier than it had in weeks.
My wolf was content, settled in a way he had not been since before Max’s decree.
Lena climbed onto my back without hesitation, settling into the familiar position, her grip secure against my shoulders.
Her weight was familiar now, welcome. The scent of her surrounded me, and my wolf preened at having our mate so close, so safe.
But this time was different. This time we were not fleeing.
We were going home.
Her hope rose with every mile we covered.
Her relief. Her trust. She had watched Viktor kill a man, had stood surrounded by wolves who wanted her dead, and she had not flinched.
My mate. My warrior. The bond between us hummed with contentment, with the simple joy of running together toward something instead of away.
Dmitri ran beside us in his dark wolf form, silent and watchful. He would escort us to the edge of the territory and then return to Viktor’s side, where he belonged. The brotherhood we had forged in Max’s brutal service would not end because the Pakhan had changed. It would only grow stronger.
The forest blurred past as we ran, and I let myself think about what came next.
The hotel. Paradise Peaks. The life Lena had built and the life we would build together.
Christmas was coming, and I would actually be there to see it.
I imagined her decorating the lobby, imagined waking up with her on Christmas morning in our own bed, imagined a future that did not involve running or hiding or counting the hours until the next attack.
But underneath the hope, the anticipation, a cold hunger coiled in my chest. Michael was still out there. Still watching, still waiting, still thinking he could take what was mine. He did not know that the pack war was over.
He did not know that the prey had become the predator.
I would show Michael exactly what happened to men who touched what belonged to me.
The wolf inside me stirred at the thought, hungry for the hunt that was coming.
We had been prey for too long, running and hiding and watching over our shoulders.
Now we had a pack behind us, resources at our disposal, and the time to plan instead of react.
I could already imagine his fear when he realized the tables had turned, when he understood that the man he had been hunting was now hunting him. Would he run? Would he beg? Would he offer money, information, anything to save his pathetic life?
It would not matter. Nothing he could offer would be worth more than the terror I had seen in Lena’s eyes every time she found another message from him, another photograph taken without her knowledge, another violation of the safety she had tried so hard to build.
Lena’s fingers tightened in my fur, her sense of my darkening mood rippling back to me. She did not ask what I was thinking. She already knew.
The monster she had married was not done with blood. Not yet. But this time, the blood would belong to the man who had made her afraid, who had sent threats and photos and locks of her hair, who had allied with Max to make us prey.
Michael thought he knew what Raphael Antonov was capable of.
He had no idea.
I ran faster, Lena secure on my back, Dmitri at my flank, and the mountains opening up before us like a promise. Home was waiting. Safety was waiting. And somewhere in the shadows, a dead man walking did not even know to be afraid.
The hunt would come. And when it did, I would be ready.