Wolf Slayer (The Order of the Wolf, #2)(21)

“Oh, Jay.” Panicked, she shifted him from her lap to the grass, then laid her head on his chest, pressing her ear to his flesh. His heart still beat, slow, stuttered, unnatural. “Don’t leave me.” Meaningless words. He’d been shot by a Huntress—a fatal blow.

The silence stretched as Aubrey lay on him, awaiting the moment his heart give its final beat, ready to attack her sister the second he died, force her to throw that dagger. Instinct driving her. Jaylon in the afterlife. Her destiny stayed with him.

“Bree.” Her name was a whisper, but it startled her all the same. “He’s dying.”

Aubrey lifted her head to look at her sister. “I’ll die with him.” Crazy words. Die for a wolf?

“No.” Corra breathed the word out, horrified.

The sound of tree branches crashing, thundering roars, the shaking ground brought the conversation to an end. Aubrey jumped to her feet, her bow in hand, ready to fire.

Corra spun to greet the battle. Two wolves crashed through the tree line, corralling a Hunter. It was Corra’s mate, bow slung on his shoulder, a dagger in one hand, a lump of a human thrown over his shoulder, blood covering most of his body. Aubrey realized it was Chris. Unconscious. Badly injured. Aubrey’s heart constricted. So much blood.

“What are you waiting for?” He backed up to Corra’s side. “Take the shot, love.”

Corra ripped her gaze away from the threat to look at her Hunter. “Where is Derrick?”

The Hunter cut a hard look over his shoulder at Aubrey and she knew the answer before he said it. “Dead. Now take the shot. Drop the wolves.”

“No!” Aubrey yelled as she took aim at Corra’s Hunter.

The wolves held back, circling, trying to get close to their fallen pack mate.

Corra and her Hunter pivoted, angling themselves so they were almost back-to-back. Corra facing off with Aubrey, blocking a clear shot. “You don’t want to do this, Bree. I’m your family. You belong with the Order.”

“Leave!” Aubrey yelled. “Just leave.”

“I can’t leave you here with them.”

“What future do you see for me, Corra? What will I be at the Order? The widowed Huntress, not yet bonded? How can you condemn me to that?”

“The beast is not your mate!”

“He is! My only one now, you heard it yourself. The Hunter is dead. Leave me.” She pulled back the string, aligned it with her nose. “Leave me or I will make you a widow too.”

“You’ll have no one, Bree. You forget, your beast is dying.”

Tears burned Aubrey’s eyes. “I love him. Whether you want to accept it or not. He’s my destiny. Here or the afterlife, we will be together.”

Corra stared, her face contorted as the reality of Aubrey’s words seemed to filter into her brain. A range of emotions flashed across her face. “Has he bitten you yet?”

Aubrey shook her head. No, he hadn’t claimed her.

“You never asked me what I gained from my Hunter. You don’t know what you’ll gain from yours.”

“Corra!” her Hunter warned.

Aubrey frowned. “Gain?”

“Your power. Your Hunter, his skill was as a healer.”

Aubrey blinked, her confusion muddling her brain. “I don’t care.”

“You should care, Bree.” Corra nudged her Hunter, motioning for him to move backward, away from the wolves. “Your Hunter was a powerful healer, Bree.” Her words caught on a sob.

Aubrey looked up, realization dawning.

“If your beast claims you, you’ll be a healer too. The magic of the bond doesn’t discriminate. You’re a Huntress who is endowed by a special ability. All you need now is your bond to bring it forth.”

Without lowering her bow, Aubrey dropped down to Jaylon’s side, the pack joined her, facing off with Corra and her Hunter.

“Your word that we have safe passage, Bree,” Corra demanded, her bow still raised as she and her Hunter continued to walk backward out of the clearing.

Aubrey gulped back tears. “Goodbye, Corra. I love you, but I truly hope we never meet again.”





Chapter Fourteen

The pain was a smoldering fire deep within his chest. For a time, he was only aware of that burning hell, radiating from a central point, his heart beating so slow that he knew he would be dead soon. Hoped he would die anyway, the pain was that bad. But he lingered in life, raging to the point of violence, a vague memory of lashing out, biting something that tasted of sweet nectar, something he wanted to taste again.

His thoughts were muddled, his dreams bizarre. Flashes of her face, the feel of her hands. Something began to ease the burn, soothing like a dousing of cold water, submerging him in calm tranquility where he could float, buoyant and at peace. He thought he was dying finally—that the bliss he entered was a gift from death.

But then he opened his eyes and found darkness. He felt weight across his stomach. As his eyes adjusted, he craned his neck to look down. Aubrey was sprawled there, head on his abs, one arm flung over his body, the other resting along his side, like she had fallen asleep trying to hug him. Or hold on to him.

“Aubrey,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair, loving how thick and silky it was. He did it again, just because.