Tangled
178

178 Lucas: Hunt Him Down

LUCAS

Hundreds of wolves flood the forest in search of the elusive

vampire, filling my blood with the lust of the hunt and pride in my pack.

Ava's at the lodge and safe. I'm on my way. Kellan's mental voice is a welcome interruption.

Ryder scented him near the border of the human dairy farm. Take a team and move south, in case he's fucking with his trail.

Got it, Alpha.

Now that I don't have to worry about her safety, I can focus on this bastard who has the balls to come to our lands during this sacred time.

My wolf snarls, a vicious rumble deep in our shared chest as we race through the shadowed forest.

Moonlight weaves between the trees, illuminating the underbrush in random patterns, brushing against my dark fur as I weave

between ancient trunks.

All around me, howls rise into the night sky. It's an eerie symphony of bloodlust, feral and free, as we rush through the land in pursuit, ready to tear any vampire we catch from limb from limb. The pack's rage pulses through me, mingling with my own, until I can't distinguish where mine ends and theirs Begins.

Good. Let them feel the depth of my wrath, the seething

17:45

178 Lisas Hunt Hen Down

maelstrom that demands vengeance and blood in price for the eighteen wolves I've lost.

I inhale deeply, seeking past the earth and trees, far past the past the warm musk of my wolves racing alongside me. There. A trace of sweetness, cloying and

cold, shot through with the metallic tang of old blood. Death given form.

Vampire.

A vicious growl tears from my throat. My blood surges as I lunge in the direction of that unholy scent. My paws devour the distance, powerful muscles flexing as I give myself over to the pure instinct of the chase.

Kellan, take your team northwest. Scent leads that wa

way.

Even my mental voice sounds more beast than man, roughened by the intensity of my focus. I sense Kellan's acknowledgment, feel him gathering the wolves under his command to pursue the trail. Ryder, swing your group around to flank from the east. Box the bastard in..

We'll catch this undead filth that dared to invade my territory, dared to threaten and kill my people. And when we do...

My lips peel back from gleaming fangs in a silent snarl. When we do, I'll tear his fucking head from his shoulders and mount it on a pike for all to see. A warning to any bloodsucker who even looks at our lands. Alpha, I've got the scent near the perimeter! Sabine, one of my hunters, her excitement bleeding through the mind-link.

17:45

10 luck that Hen Down

As do 1, Ryder cuts in, his mental presence sharp with confusion. But it's... to the south. Opposite direction from Sabine.

A cold thread of unease winds through my gut. South should lead them away from the trail, not...

Picking up the scent by the human farms. Kellan again, terse and grim. Miles from the original trail. What the fuck?

More voices crowd the pack-link, wolves reporting contact with the same sickly sweet vampire stench in different locations. Scattered throughout our territory like a web of dark corruption.

I slow my headlong charge, a low growl building in my chest. This isn't right. It's too spread out, too perfectly placed at the edges of our land. Almost like...

Fuck.

A snarl of frustration rips from my throat. I should have seen it immediately. Multiple trails, each leading in opposite directions-

it's a ploy. The leech is trying to lure us out, divide our forces while he laughs in the shadows.

The unease solidifies into a leaden weight in my stomach, a

gnawing sense that we're missing something vital. Being played for fools by a cunning monster who knows exactly how to manipulate our instincts.

I halt in a small clearing, my sides heaving as I cast out with all my senses. Straining for any sign of the vampire's actual location amid the chaos of false trails. But there's nothing. Only the maddening sweetnes pack-link like a whip. We're being loved with. Ryder, Kellan, take a group each and sweep through the area.

Snarls of protest and bloodthirsty tage batter against my mind, but I shut that connection down with ruthless efficiency. I understand. my wolves' frustration, feel it roiling inside me like a living thing. But charging

I will not be goaded. I will not be ruled by base instinct when the lives of my pack are at risk. Grinding my fangs together, I turn sharply and begin loping back the way I came. Back to the lodge, to

Ava.

Hunt, my wolf snaps. Rend them. Don't be a fool.

Every inch of me rebels at running from this fight, at showing weakness to our foe. But this is a battle of wits, not claws and

fangs. The vampire wants to throw us off balance, divide our focus so he can slip through our defenses.

There's only one thing he wants.

Ava.

I won't allow it.

As I race through the night-shrouded forest, the simmering unease crackles into a sense of foreboding so intense it borders on dread.

A vampire openly taunting us, attacking my people on a sacred night of mourning... it speaks to a level of arrogance, of complete. disregard for our strength, that sets my hackles on end.

178 LUNG Post Ham Pow

It's been over a century since the last conflict between wolf and vampire. What does this vampire have behind him, to believe he can handle what this brings to his door?

This creature is planning something. Something terrible and bloody and brutal. I can't shake the sinking feeling that we're already three steps behind.

Dancing to a tune of death and madness composed by a mind that knows neither mercy nor fear.

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