Page 85 of Striker

“It’s not great, but it’s the first thing I’ve made.”

“I like it,” I say in a rush. “Did you see wolves?”

Hunter shakes his head. “Just in my dreams.”

The wood feels coarse, the edges rough, but I like the way he etched little lines in its tail like fur.

“They’re pack animals,” he says, voice low. My gaze darts up to his. “They’re loyal. Protective. Mean as shit when one of their own is threatened.”

At first I think he’s describing Reaper, but then I realize he’s talking about wolves.

“They hunt in packs. Live in packs.”

My fingers enclose on the carving.

“Fuck within their pack.”

My hand hesitates as I slip the figurine into my pocket. I lick my lips then say, “And they mate for life.”

Hunter nods. “They do.” He hooks an arm around my shoulders. Scratches and bruises mar his thick forearms. “Come on. I need some real food. My stomach is eating itself.”

“Was it bad?” I ask.

His step falters. “Yeah.” But then he pulls me close and chuckles.

“What’s so funny?”

Hunter turns to face me. “You were scared for me.” I drop my gaze, focusing on the mud caking his boots. My breathing hitches when he shifts, his large hand squeezing the back of my neck, thumb skimming over my pulse. He leans down, so only I can hear, to whisper, “You really think I’d not return to you, little wolf?”

My gaze darts up to meet his. Hunter winks and steps away. I watch his strong back as he stalks across the yard, leaving me with a thundering heart.

Yes.I want to scream.Yes. I was scared you’d not come back, but I remain quiet, watching as Viper runs up to him and hooks his arm over his shoulders, pulling him down to press his forehead to his. He says something to Hunter, but Breaker’s loud crack of laughter keeps me from hearing.

I may be four years younger than him, not as experienced in life or in other ways like he and Reaper thanks to the girls in the village, but I know what this sinking feeling in my gut means. And I don’t want to feel it. I don’t want to care too much. About any of them, but Hunter most of all.

“Fucking Christ,” Reaper curses, staring down at the paper. I snap my gaze to him, having forgotten he was standing just feet away.

Reaper tosses the paper to the muddy ground and turns toward our quarters. I lean down and pick up the paper, uncurling it, smoothing the wrinkles out so I can read the order.

Center of the page, in small letters, reads one name. I look up at Reaper’s back as he walks away. Reaper is cold. Distant. Calculating. So different from all of us. But this?

I don’t know if he has it in him to kill a little girl.

Chapter 34

Striker

The setting sun atmy back washes the ocean in front of me a garish gold, the sky turning purple slashed with pink and yellow as the light fades. The waves crash against the large rocks below, a fine mist dampening my face with cold, salty water. I shove my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket, turning my face up toward the sky. Now I know why Reaper comes here to think. It’s peaceful. A vast open area to spill out the disaster whirling through my head.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I tilt back on my heels. The skin around my ankles pulls, reminding me I still have Viper’s cum on me.

Jesus.

My shoulders drop, and I rake a hand through my hair, trying to shove the memory of him away, but the heat behind his blue eyes as he looked up at me with a mixture of shock and…

Want.

As much as I’ve told myself we were all worked up, driven practically mad by need after our punishment that I lost controland fucked any mouth that was near, I’m a liar and I know. He knows it.

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