Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(86)

Get up! Stand!

Still whistling, Amos unholstered a weapon as he strode up to the trap. He flicked off the safety and pointed at the nearest wolf—Aeric, who was snarling and still slamming his body into the trap, trying to break through it.

The sound of my heart beating filled my ears, and fear and terror rippled through me like a bullet.

It’s happening again. Someone I care about is going to die.

My hunter magic pulsed in my chest—hot, furious, and desperate to get out.

No.

“No.” My lips felt numb as the sensation of my magic flooded my entire body, numbing me to the pain.

Maybe it was the blood loss, but my magic beat in my chest—screaming to be used. But I didn’t know how! What could I do? I wasn’t Pack—I was a hunter!

My magic surged, and it felt…different—though I couldn’t say how, because I was barely holding on to consciousness, my eyes drooping shut—and it surged through my body.

Before I entirely lost it, several things happened at once.

Greyson’s Alpha powers hit the area with enough force to fry my nerves, and the hunter who’d been standing over me flew over my head, tossed aside like a doll when Greyson slammed into him in his massive wolf body.

The wolves inside the trap glowed before they grew larger. They were nearly horse sized now. Their eyes glittered with magic I’d never seen before, and energy hummed around them.

Aeric slammed into the trap, and the net-like weaving frayed.

Several other wolves threw themselves at it, and the trap bulged—hissing and spitting sparks. Aeric and Wyatt—still in his human form—slammed into it together, and the trap snapped.

The wolves burst out of the trap, howls tearing from their throats as they pounced on the hunters.

Is this the power of a Pack under the direction of their Alpha? It’s beautiful.

Even in my addled state I could recognize the one-sided fight.

Aeric leaped onto a hunter’s chest, flattening him with enough force that he wasn’t going to be getting up anytime soon.

Wyatt jumped over Aeric—pushing off his back—and kicked another hunter in the side, downing her with one hit.

Another wolf grabbed a hunter by the shoulder—which was easy to reach now that they were all so huge—and flung the man into another hunter.

A shadow fell over me, and I realized somewhere in the battle, Greyson had turned into a human. (Which must have been a record for him; I swear only twenty seconds had passed since I saw him arrive.) He scooped me up, cradling me against his bare chest.

I groaned in pain, but as soon as my forehead smacked the side of his bicep potent, powerful magic zapped me like a lightning strike, waking me up and chasing off the wooziness of the blood loss.

My shoulder was hot, but I felt great. I could feel my muscles knit together—it was like chugging three of the best fae potions, one after another.

“Wow.” I weakly clung to Greyson as I exhaled pure magic. “Is this what being part of the Pack feels like? Because this…this is pretty awesome.”

“This isn’t the Pack’s magic.” Greyson adjusted his arms under my legs so he was carrying me princess style and my entire body was practically plastered against him.

“Really? Then what the heck is this?”

Around us, the wolves snapped at hunters, smacking them down with pure strength.

I blinked as I felt something tickle my hunter senses. “Incoming!” I shouted. “From the woods.”

More hunters stepped out of the trees—carrying sparkling magic that I was fairly certain was another trap spell—but three of the wolves had already streaked toward the forest at my shouted warning. They were on the hunters before they could even get a shot off.

“How are you feeling?” Greyson asked.

“Great,” I said. “Really great. Seriously. If the Pack could bottle this feeling, you would be so rich. How are you doing this?”

“It’s not the Pack,” Greyson repeated. “Can you stand?”

“Yep.” I shook my head, trying to adjust. All the sickness from blood loss was gone. Instead it felt like every part of me was singing with power.

Greyson set me down as if I was fragile glass, but I was steady on my feet despite being close to passing out minutes ago.

I laughed and stretched my arms over my head—I’d never felt so alive!

Greyson grabbed one of the biggest hunters and cuffed him upside the head. The hunter sagged in his grasp, and Greyson proceeded to rob him of his jacket.

I felt for my dagger on my belt—the other one was somewhere in the mess of the fight. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to fight.” Greyson shrugged the jacket on—which struck me as a weird thing to do as part of battle preparation. He then yanked the hunter’s daggers from him and passed them off to me—which did make sense.

“Perfect, thanks! I call Amos!” I declared. “He’s gotten something wrong that’s been bothering me for a long time. I want to correct him.”

Greyson narrowed his gold eyes at me. “You’re not fighting, Lady Hunter.”

“Why not?”

“Because you were shot with a crossbow?”

“Pft, that was, like, five minutes ago. This magic is fiiiine, so I’m all good now.” I winked at him and twirled my stolen daggers, trying to adjust to their unfamiliar balance and weight.