Page 163 of Red Marked

I’m sure.

The rifle cracks as Brian fires.

Holt doesn’t take to the sky. Instead, he spins on the gravel and bolts, and the jungle growing at the base of the cliff swallows him. Branches whip back into place behind his tail.

“I think I got one in him!” Brian yells. “In the flank! I’m pretty sure.”

Flint lands at a run and crashes in after him, with Atlas right on his heels. I land behind them. Rift lands next to me and keeps her shoulder against mine all the way in.

It’s thick in here. We quickly follow broken branches to the cliff, where the trail stops dead.

There’s a crevice in the rock. It runs from the ground to well above my head, and it’s no wider than a doorway. I couldn’t get my snout into it.

Atlas rakes through the ferns on either side of it. Dane climbs the cliff and comes back down. Saber circles overhead, lands, and shakes his head.

The male hasn’t gone up or around. I put my nose to the large crack. His scent is all over the rock, and it changes right there on the threshold. It goes from scale to skin. Underneath the years of river mud, blood, and unwashed male, there’s something familiar.

I’m sure it’s him.

It’s Holt.

He shifted. He’s gone in there on two feet.

Rex edges in with Brian on his back. Brian, night vision goggles pushed up on his head, shines a flashlight over the ground at the entrance and then into the crevice. The beam only reaches a few yards before the passage bends.

“There’s no dart on the ground,” Brian says. “It’s probably somewhere back there.” He clicks the light off. “I don’t think I missed, but I might have caught thick scale. Sorry, boss.”

Flint stands in front of the entrance with his head low and his nostrils working. I can see him thinking it through. To follow him, we’d have to go in one at a time, in our skins, with no claws, no scales, and no teeth.

We’d be vulnerable.

He lifts his head and gives two short barks. He wants us to leave. After all this. We have to pull back.

No!

Holt might run after this. We might never find him again.

Shit!

Atlas backs away from the cliff. Dane huffs and follows. Rift bumps my shoulder to turn me around.

I don’t move.

There’s too much riding on this.

I sniff again.

It’s him, dammit.

Flint turns his head around to me and barks again, twice. He shoves his snout in the direction of the river.

I’m desperate to speak with him.

To save my females. To have a life.

I’m desperate.

It’s a risk, but I know this is the right Holt, so it’s a calculated one.