Page 5 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

We tie the horses to low-hanging branches, David looking more like a frightened animal than any of the horses. “You stay here, kid,” I mutter. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I should help–” he starts.

“You’ll be helping more if you stay here and cover us,” I tell him. “Pick up your rifle and keep your eyes on the watchtower, okay? I know you’re a good shot. So help us from back here.”

David nods. “Okay…okay.”

I reach out and grip his shoulder. “Gotta make it back to Enid, right?” I say.

“Right.”

I tilt my head at the bounty hunters, then we move toward the perimeter wall. The forest smells alive tonight: damp earth, animal musk, and the faint trace of smoke. I’ve been watching the Austin pack’s movements for months, learning their routines. Last full moon, there were two guards in the watchtower, another roaming. Only one gate, one road in and out.

Abrams gestures to the faint glow of a campfire beyond the wall. “Music,” he mutters. “They don’t sound too worried.”

“They aren’t,” I reply. “Not tonight.”

Jackson chuckles under his breath. “Cocky bastards. Let’s show ’em how that works out.”

We creep closer, the soft hum of voices growing louder. I keep my grip on my rifle, my heart steady. This isn’t just about revenge or some vague promise of Angel protection.

I’m almost at the wall when I see it—a bright red laser slicing through the grass, its beam cutting against the night like a flare. The hum of a rifle charging up makes my stomach drop.

They didn’t have guns when I was here last week.

The beam sweeps dangerously close to Abrams, his head just visible in the grass. He ducks lower, invisible; but I hear him curse quietly. My pulse spikes.

They don’t have to see him to figure out his location; wolves canhear you, and he just gave himself away.

Damn it.

The first shot rings out, loud and sharp, and he goes down. Just like that.

It happens so fast I barely have time to process.

I don’t move toward him, but I hear Jackson’s voice rise up from the grass. “Abrams! Motherfucker…fuck!”

We’ve still got numbers on them. I have to remind myself of that, and of the fact that luring these guys out is part of the plan. There are four of us, and I can only see two of them through my binoculars—big guys, of course. Lycans always are. Neither of them have shifted yet, but with those rifles, they don’t need to.

Garza isn’t with them.

He’ll come out to find us…he has to. Because he’s the Alpha Prime, and he’ll feel an instinct to protect his pack.

I’ll be waiting.

Another shot zings overhead, close enough to singe the grass. The smell of burnt vegetation stings my nose.

They’re going to set the whole prairie on fire at this rate.

Then I see it.

Something’s moving in the grass–silent, predatory. A ripple, barely visible against the waving blades, but unmistakable.

A shiver runs up my spine as I pull my rifle from my back, aiming toward the movement.

“Come on, you bastard,” I whisper under my breath, finger hovering over the trigger.

Before I can fire, a sharp yelp cuts through the air, followed by a gurgling noise that turns my stomach. Another one of my guys goes down. I’m not sure who it is, but he didn’t go quietly like Abrams…no. That was death by wolf.

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