This was the price.
Renegade had a head start—one she’d bought with her pussy and mouth and every last centimeter of cunning she possessed. One she couldn’t waste. It wasn’t much, considering the size and skill of the males who’d be coming for her, the achy twinge that begged her to return to that soiled nest of leathers and males. But it was enough.
It had to be enough.
As if to mock her defiance, something behind her crashed through the brush. Moving at speed. Trailing her and making no effort toward discretion.
A strangled cry ripped free from her throat. Heart skipping over her ribs hard enough to make her stumble.
How? How had they managed to catch up to her so quickly? And without making a sound?
A roar blasted through the thinning forest. Startling an earnest scream from her lips, for in that single, fleeting instant, she knew exactly what hunted her. That it wasn’t Sinadim’s ragged pack, but something else. Something much worse, and she knew then just how foolish she’d been in abandoning her defensible den filled with possessive pack males, fuck-drunk and ready to die for nothing more than another taste of her slick.
Heart in throat, she didn’t turn. Didn’t grace the hunter with even the slightest glance, or broadcast her spine-bending terror—she merely redoubled her effort to flee.
It wasn’t nearly enough.
Bellowing, the hunter crashed through the thinning trees at her back, closing the distance between them in massive, ground-eating strides. Driving her to the edge of the wood, he pushed her beyond anything that might be used for shelter. Any fleeting shred of sanctuary she might have sought, and in doing so, eliminated any obstacles she might have put in his path.
He had, in fact, left her nothing in the way of options—beyond the forest, there were only gently rolling hills. Nothing to be used in defense but the startling certainty that she’d been herded.
But the realization came too late, and Renegade didn’t have the time or breath to scream before the hunter took a swipe. Kicking her boots out from under her, the hunter sent her tumbling to the forest floor in a confused heap of limbs. It was only by the grace of the Nine that she rolled to the left instead of right, for with a snarl, the hunter charged right on past her. Unable to stop or change direction as quickly as someone who’d had the incredibly good luck to be stopped by the trunk of a young tree.
On her feet before the pain could register, Renegade did the only thing she could—she went up.
Pulling herself over the lowest branch, she flung herself into a sturdy sapling and reached for the next branch above it.
The hunter roared again. Rattling her bones and eardrums as she crested the second rung in her makeshift ladder and narrowly avoided another swipe—this one aimed at pulling her bodily from the tree and back to the earth. Where she’d be utterly at the whims of fate. At his mercy.
Renegade couldn’t help the terrified little squeal that burst from her lips. Couldn’t help the tremor in her hands as she climbed or stop her thoughts from once again returning to the pack. But it wasn’t until the hunter jumped—missing the first branch entirely as he clung to the second—that Renegade screamed for help. That she called for her rejected pack and wished for the dull safety a functional unit could offer.
The male bending the back of her fragile sapling was anything but safe, and when Renegade had climbed as high as she could, there was nothing left but to look.
To acquaint herself with the male who would surely be her doom.
His fur was a mess of mats and burrs, though beneath it all she could tell it might have once been beautiful. He was unkempt—as true ferals usually were—and big. Really, really big. Easily the weight of two Anhur males combined, this feral was Alpha straight down to his core. She could smell it on him as he struggled to reach her and scale her tree in one smooth movement. Couldn’t ignore the scent of his pheromones that hung heavy on the air, or unsee that impressive bulge distorting the front of tattered pants.
It was his eyes that truly caught her attention. Gold. Streaked with green and flecks of chocolate. The mark of a feral. Of the infected.
But this was no simple Anhur male.
The Trax virus had marked him. Deeply. He was a mutant, his genes warped, his nature altered only half as much as his body, for the beast was easily as big as one of her hybrids—and twice as stupid.
There would be no reasoning with this beast. There would be no compromise, discussion of mutual satisfaction, or foreplay, for the Trax had taken his mind. If he caught her, he’d take exactly what he wanted. He’d try to plant a litter in her womb, and rut her until Renegade was little more than a sleeve for his drooling cock.
Addicted to feral cum.
Keening, Renegade whined, her gaze turning back, to the pack she’d abandoned.
And she prayed.
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Ravenous Innocence
I wasn’t supposed to be here.
Wasn’t allowed to walk amongst my fellow citizens, enjoying the beautiful, sunny day. I’d been forbidden to stroll through the over-crowded market, unattended and unprotected. To do as I wished without the express permission of my father—and the accompanying escort—was to invite dire, world-altering consequences.
It wasn’t safe.
I smiled, soaking up the sun and watched a jewelry merchant hawk his wares. Watched as he snared the attention of a tall, willowy woman, seizing her elbow before she could pass his display. Tugging, he pulled her into the shade beneath his tent and the flapping azure awning, thumb stroking the pale skin of her upper arm. Directing her gaze to follow a trinket with his free hand, he bedazzled her with glittering stones and polished silver that danced in the shadowed half-light.
I pressed my palm to the pendant perched on my breastbone, torn. As of yet, I hadn’t actually done anything deserving of consequences. Had, in fact, done nothing but watch, enthralled by the market’s chaos. Thrilled by the colors and scents of the Tritan people, I watched from the sidelines. Pretending I was just another face in a sea of silver-blonde, Tritan heads, to whom words like ‘consequences’ and ‘unsafe’ did not apply.
But I wasn’t one of them, blood or not.
My fingers tightened around my pendant, considering as the precious, ugly stone glittered in the sun, tossing distinct shades of blue, green, and purple onto the street before me. Simply being here was a risk to everything my father and I had sacrificed over the years, surrounded by the crush of unsuspecting masses, each more sightless than the last. Most unable to sense the ki burning thick and sweet in the air. That such a power could go unnoticed by so many was a blessed curse from the Goddess herself, drowning me in the temptation to reach out and touch them… to blend in. To taste the living flames of their ki and know normal. To be normal, if only for a few stolen moments.
I clenched my fist, letting the tarnished family heirloom bite the meat of my palm. At once concealing the scatter of blues, greens, and purples before they were recognized, and letting the stone drink deep of my life force. It feasted with greedy abandon, starving for ki willingly given. Storing my excess in its stony, cold heart in return for blessed, numbing calm.
A service only the Glaith could provide to one such as me.
I shuddered, drained, for now, but conflicted. There wouldn’t be another chance as perfect as this, what with my father occupied by some important State Senate meeting and my target already marked. In fact, everyone who might take an interest in my actions was in that meeting. The rest, the Priestesses with their keen ki-sense, were locked away, deep in the heart of the temple.