Page 102 of Omega Hunted

“So do I.”

He reached for the rifle and snapped the action closed. “They’ve got one wolf leading, two hyenas flanking—they’ll try to separate us until the humans have a clean shot.”

Outside the window, the mountain was peaceful. Fresh snow lay untouched beneath the pines, every branch heavy with white, the wind carrying nothing except the faint whisper of falling flakes and somewhere in the trees in there were people who would do anything to get Soren and Asha.

“Wolf,” Ronan said, and walked to the mudroom and finished unlacing his boots before pulling them off. His instinct was to work this in our fur, and I glanced down at my body armor, and my wolf was unhappy and restless. In the end, there was no decision to be made, and I lay my rifle within easy reach while I stripped down.

Three years ago, this had been routine for Team Three. Brec. Ronan. Me. Raff.

Mission prep. Weapons. Routes. Extraction. Only today there wasn’t going to be an extraction, and there was only one objective.

Protect Soren and Asha.

“The humans will want elevation,” Ronan said.

“I’d put one on the ridgeline covering the western clearing, and the second overlooking the creek. The wolf will push us; the hyenas circle. They’ll keep us moving right into overlapping fields of fire.” It was as if we’d never stopped being a team.

“You ready?”

I glanced in the direction of the hidden bookcase, where Soren and Asha waited.

My wolf rose silently inside me.

Ready.

Ronan’s eyes held mine for a long second. Then we opened the back door together, locked it behind us, and disappeared into the trees.

Every sound carried farther. Every snapped twig echoed between the pines. Even my breathing sounded too loud as I moved through the trees, my rifle resting on my shoulder while Ronan disappeared westward without another word. Three years hadn’t dulled any of it. We no longer needed hand signals or whispered plans. We both knew our jobs.

My wolf surged closer to the surface.

Enemy.

The wind stayed in our favor, drifting down from the ridgeline. Whoever had planned this had done their homework, approaching from three directions to avoid bunching together, but they’d made one mistake in that they didn’t know this mountain as I did.

I crossed the frozen creek at the narrow point where the rocks sat just beneath the ice. Two more steps brought me behind a stand of old cedar that obscured me from the western approach. I crouched, slowing my breathing until it matched the rhythm drilled into every member of Team Three.

See. Listen. Wait.

The human appeared first. He wore white camouflage, picking his way cautiously from tree to tree with a suppressed rifle cradled to his chest. Professional. Every few yards he stopped to study the house through a compact monocular before continuing. He wasn’t looking for me. He was waiting for one of the wolves to flush me into the open.

I watched him, learning his rhythm. Six steps, pause, scan, six more... he never once looked behind him. I eased the rifle into position, slowed my breathing, and waited until he stepped into the only clear lane between two pines before squeezing the trigger.

The man dropped into the snow, and I was on him before the echo faded, reaching him in seconds. His radio crackled once.

“...West? Report.”

I tore the earpiece free before smashing the radio against a tree.

One down. Four to go. And a heartbeat later, another rifle cracked somewhere high above the eastern ridge.

Then silence.

For several long seconds, nothing moved. Then the first enraged howl rolled across the mountain. Another howl answered from farther south.

The hyenas had heard the rifle shots and abandoned stealth. I leaned the weapon out of sight behind a pine and shifted, bone and muscle rearranging beneath skin until my paws landed silently in fresh snow. Cold air flooded my lungs, bringing the world alive all at once. The scent of pine, blood, and wolf.

Close.