Last Wolf Hunting. Rhyannon Byrd
Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat like a buoy and quickly shifted his bleary gaze back to Jeremy. “Danna’s not the only one, but she worries the most, because she’s the one you were rumored to be with that night. But ever since all that crap went down between you and Jillian, a lot of your old girlfriends have been waiting for her to take her revenge.”
“How? By stealing their men? You’re joking, right?”
Magnus shrugged. “Not exactly Jillian’s style, I know, but who knows how a woman’s mind works. All I know is that the witch has been fighting off challengers for longer than I can remember, and every damn one of them has been a woman you dated back before you left.”
Aw, hell. If that were true, Jillian would have been fighting off more than a few. God only knew he’d been reckless back then, bedding the members of the pack as a way to thumb his nose at the laws that kept him excluded from its inner workings. That is, until the summer when Jillian had come home from boarding school and he’d finally met the girl who would one day become the pack’s Spirit Walker. After that, Jeremy had never touched a pack female again—not that Jillian had ever believed him.
He didn’t want to believe what Magnus claimed. “It’s a nice story, but I’m not buying it, Gibson.”
“Well, you should,” someone drawled from the thick shadows darkening the edge of the forest, “because it’s the truth.”
The husky words came from the tall, built-like-a-brick-house female walking slowly toward them, her red hair gleaming a vivid copper in the hazy light of the torches as she came to stand at his side. Elise Drake, daughter of the man at the top of the Bloodrunners’ list of possible suspects. Son of a bitch.
Part of the reason Jeremy had returned to Shadow Peak was so he could keep a close eye on Stefan Drake, the pack’s most notorious Elder. If things worked out, he’d be able to uncover the proof the Bloodrunners needed to nail Drake’s sadistic ass, putting an end to his plans. But it wouldn’t be easy. If he was the traitor, there was no way in hell Drake would go down easy.
“You really have no idea what her life’s been like, do you?” Elise smirked at him, the look in her dark blue eyes saying she knew something he didn’t—but that he should—and it pissed him off. Not that he wasn’t already angry. Hell, at this rate he was going to choke on rage before the night ended.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
The redhead’s gaze flickered briefly to Cian, who had propped his shoulder against a nearby tree. The Irishman stood with his arms crossed, a small grin playing at the corner of his mouth, as if he found the unfolding drama fascinating entertainment and had decided to just step back and watch. He winked at Elise, earning him an angry sneer, and she quickly turned her attention back to Jeremy.
“It means that she’s lived with what went down between the two of you for ten years, while you got to leave and pretend it never happened. More than a few of your old girlfriends have challenged Jillian over the years, thinking she’ll go after their men because she wants to get back at them for having had you, when she never got the chance herself. As if she’d be driven by envy or jealousy or some kind of twisted revenge. They seem to think she’s still tearing her heart out over losing you.”
Her lip curled, blue eyes moving slowly over his body, from the top of his blond head down to the scuffed toes of his hiking boots. “God only knows why they’d think she cared. You never brought her anything but trouble.”
Ten years ago, Elise had been a stuck-up snob who made it her business to act like the prima donna pack bitch. Her attitude had always matched her appearance, fiery and cool all at once. When had she become friendly with Jillian? The two women were as different as night and day.
“I still think this is bullshit,” he muttered.
“Don’t believe me, ask around.” She shrugged, as if to say she didn’t care what he decided to do. “The League gave her no choice. Though she refuses to kill any of them, if it weren’t for her powers, she’d have died by the hand of one of your exes long ago. I suppose the Elders feel it’s just punishment for the fact she ever allowed you to get close to her, when they’d warned her repeatedly to stay away from you.”
The coolness of her tone told him she was speaking the truth, and he scowled as the implications sank in.
All this time, she’d been fighting in life-and-death situations…and he hadn’t even known. Despite the fact Bloodrunner Alley and Shadow Peak were separated by mere miles, the powerful racial conflict that existed between the half-breeds and the Lycans was what truly created distance between the two. Located south of the town, on the mountain, within a secluded glade, the Alley provided Jeremy and his friends with the privacy and isolation they preferred. Since they weren’t members of the pack, they didn’t travel into the Silvercrest town of Shadow Peak…and the Lycans stayed clear of the Alley. In fact, the name itself had come from a derogatory slur made by one Lycan years ago, who had referred to the Runners as half-breeds who were no better than “back-alley mongrels.”
And suddenly Jeremy felt like the outsider he’d been his entire life—even when he’d lived in Shadow Peak. He hadn’t known about the challenges Jillian had fought over the years, simply because he wasn’t pack. Because he and the Runners weren’t part of their social structure. She could have died, and he wouldn’t have been there…wouldn’t have even known it was happening. Rage at the entire situation poured through him in a fierce, steady flow, but there was pain, as well. A churning bitterness at the social chasm that existed between his world and hers.
“If she was ordered to fight a Lycan, why doesn’t she have a weapon?” he asked, determined to get what answers he could.
A slow smile spread across Elise’s mouth, her dark eyes gleaming with what he could have sworn was pride. “Says it isn’t honorable.”
Yeah, that sounded like Jillian. Stubborn to a fault. “She had to have known Danna would cheat by shifting.”
“Oh, she knew,” Elise murmured, turning to watch the fight. “The rules of the Challenge Circle say no weapons. That’s all that matters to her. Our Jillian is too set on doing what she believes in, too freaking honest for her own good.”
Not your Jillian. My Jillian.
Jeremy had to bite back the telling words before they slipped off his tongue, like something that was his right to say. But they were there, crowding into the corners of his mouth, making him sick and angry and riding the hard edge of explosive.
Within the Challenge Circle, Danna charged, swiping at Jillian, catching her in the side with a vicious strike that would have proven mortal, if Jillian hadn’t been quick enough to avoid the brunt of the blow. As it was, five thin streams of blood appeared on her skin, just over her ribs.
“You can slip in now, Jilly,” Elise called out suddenly from his side. “She’s wearing herself down.”
“Slip in?” Jeremy echoed, cutting her a sharp look.
Elise flashed him a sly smile. “Shh…just watch.”
In the circle, Jillian nodded, the only acknowledgment she made to Elise, but the next time Danna made a move for her, she closed her eyes, lifted her arms again and this time she pushed them forward with a hard, thick shoving motion. The fey lines of her face became etched with strain, while her skin flushed a deep, brilliant rose, and her hair whipped around her face, as if caught in a violent breeze. Danna slammed to a halt, howling with fury as she gripped her head between her claws, screaming…and then she hit the ground. Hard.
And once she fell, she stayed down, knocked out cold.
A roar went up from the pack—long, curling howls breaking the heavy silence that had held everyone in its grip during the fight’s final moments.
Looking around, Jeremy spotted Cian at the edge of the crowd. The Irishman saluted him with two fingers against his temple, before he slipped into the shadows, heading back the same way they’d come.