Seeking Pack Redemption Read Free Page B

himself to the
assholes lying in wait. Worse, Trent knew his two buddies would come sniffing
after him when he didn’t meet them at the rendezvous point, which meant he’d
soon have company—along with the teasing that came along with it. He
could hear it now: “Caught like a wet-behind-the-ears
pup.”
    Goddamned
hillbillies! What else to call the gap-toothed idiot who
owned enough brains to shoot him with silver buckshot—enough to
incapacitate his wolf—but not enough intelligence to kill him. Stupid, because once I get loose, I’m going
to rip his fucking head off. Adding insult to injury, a second inbred
asshole tranquilized him with a dart. It almost made a wolf wonder what the
hell they intended. He might even ask before he tore their throats out. Although
humans were generally considered off-limits, in some cases, such as this one,
where they knew more than they should, there was only one solution available.
    First,
though, he needed to get free. Whoever his captor’s father was, which in this
fucked-up part of the mountains could even be his grandpa or uncle, he’d taught
the boy how to tie knots well. But he’d forgotten to tell him that Lycans , short of being bound in silver chains, couldn’t be
held by conventional means for long. When straining didn’t work, Trent coaxed
his wolf forth, and the violence of the change, which contorted his body and
ripped his clothes to shreds, snapped the rope.
    On four
paws, he hit the floor and sniffed. Bad idea. According to the malodorous scents
hitting his snout this place had never encountered the cleansing touch of a
mop, broom, or anything resembling a cleaner. He did, however, catch the rancid
stench of his captors. Now he just had to find the buck-toothed idiot and his
equally stupid sidekick and teach them why it was a bad idea to shoot a Lycan in the ass with silver.
    Not
wanting to change back into his human shape to open the door, Trent dove
through the filth-encrusted window. Already half covered in cardboard, it gave easily against his weight, with the remaining shards of glass tinkling
to the ground. He shook his thick coat, which sent the lingering bits flying. The
sharp pricks of broken glass, trying to bite through his calloused paws, didn’t
really bother him, but he still stepped gingerly out of the mess until he got
clear. Running on wounded feet was never a pleasant experience.
    Raising
his head, he sniffed. Ah, the cool, crisp scent of the forest. How he loved it.
He just wished he’d come here for a better reason.
    His little
brother David was missing. Had been for about six months now. But had David’s pack
leader told Trent right away? He couldn’t fault David’s alpha. His brother told
his alpha he was going back home to Trent’s small pack. David lied, and for
some fucked-up reason, which Trent would discover when he caught up to his
missing sibling, kept answering his cell phone and pretending as if he’d never
left. Of course, Trent didn’t know all this until about two months ago. When
calls to his brother’s cell went unanswered, and then the phone became
disconnected, he got concerned and called his brother’s pack alpha. Talk about
a sucker punch to the gut finding out David hadn’t been seen or heard from
since he left.
    It made no
sense. His brother wasn’t the lone-wolf type, so where had he gone? And why did the little prick lie to me?
    Given how
long it had been since anyone last saw him, Trent was more worried than he
liked to admit, especially since an order from the Pack Council had come down
the line saying there was danger out there. Something stalked their kind. Or as
the whispers claimed, “The bogeyman’s coming to get us.”
    The
smaller Lycan groups were ordered to merge with the
larger packs in gated compounds. Curfews were set. People, Lycans like himself, who usually feared nothing, were told to not leave unless in
large groups, and to never exit the safety of the compounds after dark. Hell,
even dusk