Page 13 of Wolf Hunter

“Let’s not pretend anymore. The others are getting bored with waiting.”

We both move at the same time, me going for her throat, and her going for the skirt of her dress, ripping it at the seam. I see her bare leg and then the glint of a gun in her hand as I lunge and knock her off her feet before she has a chance to aim. The pistol shoots off, whizzing past my ear, and the bullet buries itself deep in the nearest tree trunk.

The other witches scream, scattering like roaches hit with light. But my wolves are quick and snatch whoever is closest, holding them hostage. When some try to make a run for it past the tree line, half of my men follow. Screams and howls join together in a chorus from hell, but my attention focuses entirely on Sexy Pink Hair, who’s now underneath me, her arm with the gun pinned in the grass.

That doesn’t stop her, though. She throws her free elbow into mine and slams her head into my nose, making pain explode and my vision blur. Then she twists, locks me between her legs, and somehow sends all two hundred and fifty pounds of me onto my back.

Within seconds, the barrel of the gun is pointed at my face, and I stare up at her, now straddling me, with both shock and awe. She knows how to fight, I’ll give her that.

If I wasn’t staring death in the face, I would admire the way she looks on top of me, the dress now ripped to expose her strong leg. And as fucked up as it may be, my cock jumps at the mixture of lust and danger, my wolf seeing it as another challenge and a chance to play. But the click of the gun’s safety reminds me that this is the wrong time to have my head in the gutter.

I snatch the gun and squeeze with all my strength, crushing the metal and rendering the weapon useless. After wrenching it out of her grasp, I chuck it somewhere off in the woods.

Without missing a beat, she reaches between us, where a small blade is strapped to her inner thigh. As she wrenches it out, I grab her wrist.

She punches me across the jaw, hoping to make me to let go, but I seize her other hand as blood coats the inside of my mouth.

Shit, she socked me good.

Trying to yank herself free from my grip is proving too hard, so she tucks and rolls. I do the same, making sure to keep the blade’s edge far enough away from both of our flesh.

As we tumble, wrestling for the upper hand, she’s somehow able to wiggle her way out of my hold and jump to her feet.

I crouch, the power of the shift rippling over my skin. My wolf wants out; he wants her to submit to him, but I shove the power back for now. That’ll only make things messier. Best to make her yield while I’m on two legs instead of four.

“This is quite the introduction.” I maintain my smile as I straighten. She comes at me again, knife raised, and I swivel to dodge her quick dagger. “Never had a willing sacrifice try to kill me before.”

“First time for everything,” she grunts, swinging her weapon again. I block it, but when she stomps on my foot, taking me off guard, she’s able to push the tip into my shoulder.

I roar, the pain quick and sharp.

She smiles.

Okay, this has been fun, but I’m done playing around.

Twisting her wrist, I force her to drop the knife. Disarmed, she scrambles to hit me again or land a kick, but I grab her around the waist and scoop her off the ground.

Ignoring the biting pain in my shoulder, I hold her tight against me, pinning both her arms at her sides. She bucks and kicks, but she’s no match for my strength.

When she realizes she’s been caught, a furious yell tears past her throat.

“What did you think would happen? Hmm?” I ask her. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about you? I can practically smell your lust for vengeance seeping out of your pores.”

“Go to hell,” she growls.

I should kill her. Right here, right now. But as her gorgeous body is pressed flushed with mine, my pulse is a raging boom in my ears, and my wolf is pushing against my control. He doesn’t care that she’s an enemy. He only sees a potential mate.

Why her? I don’t get it.

Nostrils wide, I draw in her scent. Vanilla and magnolias—the sweetest smells for such a ruthless woman. It calls to me. Makes my head fog.

Leaning in, the tip of my nose grazes against hers, and for a split second, her lips part. I think she may close the distance and kill me, but instead, she rears back and then slams her head against my face with a grunt of exertion.

Cursing, I drop her against a swell of pain.

She lands a second hit right to my cheekbone, and stars bloom in front of me. She’s barely on her feet and already fighting back like a wild animal. A moment of dizziness costs me as Pink Hair takes advantage by kicking me square and solid between the legs.

I don’t block her in time.

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