God, what an idiot. He was almost as stupid as his missing younger brother. Walked right into the trap and pretty much handed 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 had 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 t

It took them a day to actually track down the hillbillies. Their home-turf advantage aided them in hiding for longer than Jaxon's usual prey. Idiots with only half a brain between them, they should have left the woods entirely. Lycans with a purpose and a grudge made the worst enemies. His new companion, Trent-so strange to hunt with others after all these months alone-found them and made them talk, after they'd finished screaming. But they didn't learn much other than a guy with freaky eyes had paid them to lure folks to their cabin. Once they had a victim, whom they were told to shoot with silver and tranquilize, they put up a flag on a tree and left. When they returned the next day, the body would be gone and a bottle of something alcoholic left behind. Hoping to trap the hillbillies' patron, Darren ran the flag up the tree, and while they hid and waited, nothing came to take the bait. Or so Jaxon assumed. Not all of Roderick's minions acted liked red-eyed, rabid dogs. J

With Jaxon's caution about Roderick and his mental powers ringing in his ears, crazy as it sounded-like I'm going to believe in a mind-controlling vampire-Lycan-Trent waited by the edge of the woods with his friends. The stink of wolves who'd foregone bathing and something acrid, a stench borderline putrid and yet somehow familiar, burned his nose and made his beast fidget in his mind. But he couldn't shift, not yet. He'd need hands to open the doors. However, just in case, he was ready to go furry, stripped naked with his clothes tucked up a tree. Someone with a video camera would have a blast if they saw him tiptoeing through the underbrush, his man parts swinging free. Lycans, though, would think nothing of it because nudity was a regular part of life. After all, the budget for new clothes only went so far. So, naked as the day of his birth, he waited for the signal. Darren and Marc also waited in their own spots, silent and covered in a hunter's perfume-a.k.a. fucking animal

Trotting on four feet behind Trent and the female they'd saved, Darren tried to process everything that had happened in the last few minutes. And he didn't mean the battle. When he'd kicked open the door to the only barred room he'd found in the large cabin, he'd not expected the kick to the gut when he saw the small brunette peering fearfully at him. She had reason. Enclosed in a dark room with only a bed to sit on, a bed with currently unused restraints hanging at the four corners. A wild rage imbued him, a rage that grew as he noted her fear. Then he got a whiff of her, and even unbathed and frightened, her underlying scent, the odor that marked every person like a fingerprint, hit him, and his eyes widened further in surprise. His wolf roused enough to growl, Mine. Unfucking believable. He'd found his mate. Darren wanted to gather her in his arms, reassure her that she was safe. Instead, he'd gotten attacked by yet another fucking rogue. The place virtually crawle

Finding a motel several hours later proved easy. Getting rid of the emotions churning in his mind, not so much. When Trent had embarked on his quest to find his brother, he'd never expected it would end in tragedy. How could David be dead? How could he have turned from the shy and gentle teen Trent knew into a man capable of violence toward a woman and, if she could be believed-and his gut said she could-worse? As if that weren't hard enough to swallow, he'd apparently killed himself. What horror had his little brother endured to take such a cowardly route? Trent needed to know more, which meant talking to the woman his brother had impregnated, mated with, and hurt. Knowing the next step didn't stop him from stalling. Thea scared him. Not scared in an I'm-afraid-she's-going-to-kick-my-ass way, but in a why-do-I-think-she's-hotter-than-hell way, which seemed totally inappropriate for a lot of reasons. For one, in spite of the battle, the danger, and the mission, as well as her ref