Page 63 of Prey of the Lycan Queen
Regan sighs heavily. “So, the king has likely returned to his bunker. Is that what you’re saying?” Regan questions.
She nods. “Yes, he likely has returned to his fortress within the mountain.”
“We should leave immediately. Time isn’t a luxury we have. The mountain is our next destination,” Regan tells me, and I nod in agreement. “There is a highway that leads to a hikers trail,” he shows me on the map.
I nod, and we make our way back to Leila and the truck while Regan’s deteriorating state plays on my mind. I know he can feel the full moon coming, and we are both aware that when it does, when Zirah shifts, his time left here is limited.
It takes us a good twenty minutes to walk back to the truck. Gnash, Hunter, and Shadow stand atop it, their keen, watchful eyes looking over Leila and my brother. Leila’s relief is evident when she spots us.
When we climb into the car, she leans forward between the seats. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t returning. The scouts have come by twice now,” she states. “We know, they’ve tracked us through the city,” I answer while starting the truck.
The tension is palpable as we hit the highway, going toward the huge mountain behind the kingdom walls. As I turn off the highway around the mountain on the last few bends before we hit the dirt road, without warning, the wolves leap from the truck bed, vanishing into the looming darkness. I slam the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt.
At first I’m confused, but then it hits me that they must have caught a scent. “Follow them,” Regan says, and I spin the truck around, finding a concealed road between some trees that runs along the kingdom walls.
We follow the wolves, trusting their instincts to lead us to Zirah. When they slow down, we stop, and I realize the wind has changed direction. Whatever scent they picked up is being blown around, confusing them.
“Get in the truck,” Regan calls to them, and Hunter and Shadow jump back in the bed with thuds that rock the truck from side to side. With the window down though, something smells off in the air, something that has my instincts screaming at me.
“Can you smell that?” I ask Regan, but his eyes are locked on the tree line.
“Let me drive,” Regan tells me, and we quickly switch places. Gnash climbs onto the hood of the truck, and he peers in the window before huge meaty paws lift and he jumps onto the roof.
As we near the mountain, the fever plaguing Regan’s father breaks. His cloudy eyes open clear, and he’s alert once again. “Finally, you’ve come to join the party, brother,” I tell him. I relay our situation, the relief in his eyes doesn’t mask the worry lurking beneath.
However, as we near the end of the city walls before the road that leads to the gigantic mountain, our plan goes awry. The shrill sound of tires screeching fills the air. Looking in the side mirror, I spot King Slavic’s guards hot on our tail.
“We’ve been spotted,” I mutter.
Regan glances quickly at the rearview mirror. “Fuck!” he shouts.
“What do we do?” Leila asks, plastering herself to the backseat and putting on her seatbelt.
Regan and I lock eyes, the shared understanding between us clear. We have one mission, one goal—save Zirah and the coven. The race against time has begun, and I can see Regan is nowhere near conceding.
The roar of engines fills the air, echoing off the nearby mountains as the SUV behind us speeds up. When we hit the back wall of the kingdom, there’s another road that runs behind, but cars are racing toward us from that side too. Out the window, I see Slavic’s guards, their cars bearing down on us. Louder engines draw my attention to the tree line where the vampire guards are on motorcycles, following suit as they tear onto the road behind us.
Chapter Forty-Six
An electric hum of danger hangs in the air, sending my instincts into overdrive. The pursuing vehicles glint ominously under the moonlight in the side mirror. A menacing horde of motorcyclists follows close behind, their engines growling like predatory beasts.
“They’re on bikes too,” I warn Regan.
“Even if they were riding unicorns, it wouldn’t help them,” Regan snarls. He glances over at me, an unspoken promise passing between us. They’re not catching us, not tonight. He shifts gears, and his eyes are wild and manic.
One of the motorcycles catches up first and runs up the side of the truck. The wolves snarl savagely, rocking the truck with their movements. Suddenly, Gnash leaps off the roof, and Hunter explodes from the back of our truck. Their large forms take down the closest two guards on bikes, while another three zip past them. Their growls resonate through the night and their ferocity is a sight to behold.
As the chase intensifies, Regan seems to come alive. His movements are fluid and precise as he maneuvers the vehicle, deftly avoiding obstacles. He is a force to be reckoned with, an unstoppable wave of power and skill. His hands work the steering wheel, each move sending us swerving away from the lethal pursuit.
“Hold on,” he says, his voice steady when he rips on the wheel. Leila squeals in the back, and I grip the handle above the door. My body slides into the turn, and Shadow’s claws screech against the metal truck bed, making my fangs ache.
Regan leans into the sudden sharp turn, and our truck skids in a spray of gravel. The first car flies past us, missing our bumper by mere inches. With a swift movement, Regan yanks the steering wheel around, sending our vehicle into a tailspin.
We come to a sudden stop, our truck now facing the oncoming motorcyclists, and one has no chance to stop in time as he hits our truck head-on and cartwheels through the air. The bike flies over the hood and lands in a mangled heap. Gnash snatches the downed guard just as Shadow pounces off the back. It’s a mess of flying limbs and blood spraying everywhere.
“What are you doing?” Leila shrieks when Regan rips off his seatbelt.
“Settle down. He’ll handle it. He’s not called Wrath for nothing,” comes Theron’s unwavering voice.
