Page 67 of The Renegade Mate

“It’s me.”

“Mai.” The relief was clear in his voice. “You okay? Where are you?”

“Ryan, listen. I’ve got Jase. We’re okay. Brock ordered some guy called Carl to take me to a cabin in the woods. It’s a trap designed to lure you here so he can take us both out.”

“Carl Utson?”

“I don’t know. Got a birthmark on his neck. He’s a complete dickhead. He broke Jase’s ankles. He’s calm, Ryan, methodical. No emotions.”

“Yeah, that’s Carl Utson. He joined the Pack while you were gone, did some work for Jem, but we saw what he was like and kicked him out about a year ago.”

“Well, he’s working for Brock now. You can’t come here, Ryan. I’ll find a way out of this—”

“No fucking way, Mai. I don’t care if it’s a trap. Just tell me where you are.”

I paused. “No. I can’t risk—”

“I can track Jase’s phone. I’m coming for you.”

“No, Ryan. We can’t—”

“I’m coming, Mai. End of discussion.”

The line went dead.

Great. Fucking wonderful.

If I got out of this, he and I were going to have a talk about him listening to me. We had to stop playing into our enemies’ hands.

I opened the glove box of the SUV, rifling through it. A stack of old receipts and an engraved metal lighter. Nice. I stuffed the crumpled papers into the gas tank, struck the lighter, and set them ablaze. I didn’t wait to see if it worked. Grabbing Jase, I hoisted him back onto my shoulders and sprinted toward the woods.

The night erupted behind me, a deafening explosion that tore through the silence, followed by a wave of heat that singed the ends of my hair as I ran. The SUV was now a fireball, lighting up the night sky, and if that didn’t distract Carl, I didn’t know what would.

I ran for half an hour. I had to put Jase down twice. Once to check the route across a small river and again to clear a path through thick bushes. Both times, he’d whimpered quietly when I picked him up. He needed to Shift again to accelerate the healing, but I wanted to get us somewhere safer first.

My legs pumped, every muscle screaming in protest, every pain from my injuries shooting through me as I wove through the trees. Branches snagged at my clothes, roots tried to trip me up, but I kept going, aware that Carl would be tracking us.

The forest thinned gradually, and then, all at once, we broke through into an open space. The meadow was surreal, bathed in the silvery light of the moon. Wildflowers dotted the landscape, their colors muted in the darkness but still painting a serene picture. For a moment, I allowed myself to take it all in—the crisp air filling my lungs, the soft rustle of the leaves, the distant chirping of nocturnal insects. But then reality snapped back.

I set Jase down, my muscles grateful for the reprieve. As beautiful as this meadow was, it was also a killing field. Open, exposed. If Carl followed us, we’d be sitting ducks; he could shoot us at his leisure while we crossed it.

My eyes scanned the tall grasses, the clusters of trees that bordered the meadow, and the sky above. No sign of Carl, but that didn’t mean anything. My nostrils flared, trying to catch a scent on the wind, but all I got was the sweet aroma of blooming flowers and the damp earthiness of the soil. Should we go through the meadow or waste time tracking around it?

I was about to bend down and lift Jase back onto my shoulders when a voice came from upwind, slicing through the night’s stillness like a knife.

“Hard choice, isn’t it?”

My head snapped up, my nostrils flaring as I tried to catch the intruder’s scent. My fingers itched, my body coiling, ready to tear into whoever this was.

A figure stepped out of the tree line, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. He was tall, at least six four, and broad-shouldered with muscles that bulged. He had dark blond hair that was evenly cut close to his head but a rough beard that hadn’t been trimmed in at least a couple of weeks. His eyes were a deep brown, almost black in the dark, but they held a haunted look. Despite his height and bulk, there was a calmness about this man. A measured stillness that hinted that it was important to him that he was controlled and thoughtful in everything he did.

“You’re Carl’s backup?” I guessed.

He inclined his head. “I’m AJ.”

The wind shifted, and I finally caught his scent. It was faint but unmistakable. My eyes narrowed. “You’re the fucking bear who attacked Tucker! He’s a child! What the hell were you thinking?”

His face twisted, a grimace of what seemed like genuine regret. “I’m sorry about that. I hope the boy is okay.”

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