Hunted (The Feral Souls Trilogy #1)

by Erica Woods

All I could see was him, his dark thin frame as he leaned over me, glasses almost falling off his crooked nose while he scribbled notes in his journal. All I could smell was blood. My blood. Metallic and sharp, rapidly cooling on skin that felt frozen. Knives. So many knives. Silver gleaming in the low, yellow light from the overhead lamp. And all I could hear was the scrape of his pen.

“It’s . . . it’s human!” the man with the thin voice gasped. The one they’d called Tim. My gaze flew to his mouth, not believing he’d said what I thought he had. Did he call me an ‘it’? And said I was human, like that was abnormal?

“Her name’s Hope,” he said as the delicious vibrations of his aggressive warning danced across my skin. “All you need to know.” Blake’s smile widened, showing a hint of sharp fangs—did all the men have fangs these days? “How fascinating.” A low chuckle broke the rising tension. “Don’t mind Ruarc. He is just a smidgen”— Jason held up two fingers less than an inch apart—“protective.”

I’d been the enforcer for as long as we’d been a pack, and I was not known for my diplomatic skills.

“Can’t leave,” I muttered. “Take Lucien.” “Why me?” “Don’t care about Hope.” Lucien crossed his arms and sent me a piercing look. “And I suppose you do?” “Yes.” “So much so that you can’t stand to be parted from her for a day?” I squared my shoulders and glared back. “Yes.”

Female like her was too good for me. I’d settle for being a . . . a friend. Protector. Wanted to-needed to chase off those shadows clouding her bright eyes. Damned if I’d let Lucien’s ridiculous fears stand in the way! As if she’d ever want me back.

“I know she’s kind,” I pushed out. Talking was a bitch when your teeth weren’t made for a human mouth. “I know her compassion is greater than her sense of self preservation. She’s brave and—” “Brave? The girl is scared of everything. She stammers when she speaks and she jumps at all sudden movements.” Lucien ground his teeth together. “Calling her brave is like claiming the rain is dry.” “She’s brave,” I snarled. “Maybe it’s not the loud kind of courage of a male preparing to fight, but it’s courage all the same. She threw herself at Kieran to save Jason, for fuck’s sake!”

My little female has faced enough pain in her life. I won’t add to it by questioning the few secrets she has trusted enough to share with us. No. Fucking. Way. “I’m done with this.” I turned my back on them both. Ash should have fucking joined in and supported the female. No way he’d failed to see what I had. I’d lived longer. Fought longer. But Ash saw things others didn’t. Wise. Perceptive. Controlled. He knew things other didn’t. Understood them. So why the fuck didn’t he chime in now?

I cannot put her safety above my pack, yet I cannot conceive of leaving her to fend for herself.

Tim scoffed, having gained confidence from the lack of interference. “Why would I do that? It’s only the truth, you are a filthy hu—” “Not that!” Hope interrupted, taking a small step toward the fearless youngster who kept insulting her. “About Ruarc! He isn’t disfigured at all! Scars show character! They are a badge of honor showing that the person carrying them has been through—” Tim threw his head back and laughed.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Tim chortled. “Look at him.” He gestured toward Ruarc, not seeming to comprehend the danger he was courting. “I am sure he was ugly even before his face was mutilated, but with that scar? He’s hideous.”

“Y-you monster!” She stood nose to nose with Tim, having moved when we were all busy shrinking away from her battlecry. Jason quickly hurried to stand beside her, keeping one eye on Tim at all times. “He is not deformed!” Ruarc’s strangled, “Hope . . .” bounced off her. The angry female did not look back, nor did she give any indication she had heard him. Fearless. In defense of others, she proved fearless.

Many of our kind made the mistake of thinking fear equaled weakness. But fear was imperative to life, to living. The day I woke up utterly without fear would be the day I had lost everything, for it would mean I either had nothing left to lose or that I stopped caring about the consequences of my actions.

Confusion pinched Hope’s face, but though she clearly did not understand what Tim meant, she stood her ground and blocked Ruarc from Tim’s view. Or she would have, had she been anywhere near his height and width. It was as though she didn’t want Tim to refocus on Ruarc, and would rather hear Tim continue to abuse her than to watch Ruarc suffer.

How dared Tim speak like that about Ruarc?

“Hope, my Hope,” he rasped, desperate hands running over my body in a way that didn’t feel intrusive, but rather like he wanted to assure himself I was okay. It was the kind of touch my soul craved, like a light had been lit and shone upon the damaged, shriveled thing. I could feel it stretching inside me, unfurling like a withered flower touched by the sun for the very first time.

It was all I could do to not whimper at the loss. I wanted his lips back on mine. Wanted his taste in my mouth. Wanted that big, muscular body wrapped around mine, all that power, all that heat washing over me until we were indistinguishable from each other.

Ruarc buried his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled. “Mmm.” His mouth moved up the column of my throat, then . . . A swift, wet caress, my body flooding with heat. Did he just . . . Did he just lick me?

I’d waited for that inevitable degradation every day. Each threat, each taunt had made the anticipation slowly chip away at my sense of self until I almost wanted it to happen. Just to have it over with. Of course, after I’d overheard a Hunter curse the fact that rape wasn’t allowed I’d wept with relief. It was the only time during my captivity I’d felt grateful.

Tim was just like the Hunters. He would feed on my fear, take pleasure in my pain, win with every wound he inflicted.

“R-Ruarc w-will k-k-kill y-you!” Tim snorted and tightened his punishing grip until I whimpered. Then he smiled, a cruel, ugly thing, and yanked. My scream was silenced by the hand he clapped over my face. White-hot pain traveled up my arm, piercing my shoulder where it felt my arm might fall out of its socket.

Something in me chafed at the smell lingering on my tongue. There was an odd scent in the air, one that did not belong. It smelled like stark terror interwoven with a predators fierce anger. And it smelled decidedly female.

I crept through the door without making a sound. And what I saw, what awaited . . . My blood curdled. My vision flashed from dark red to black. Claws sprouted from my fingers. Long, sharp fangs cut my lips as they sprang from my upper and lower jaw. The frozen wasteland of my soul ignited with volcanic heat. And I. Did. Not. Care. A male—a male not of our pack—lay on top of the female under our protection. Vile threats flew from his lips. His claws were out. Touching. About to rip. And her shirt . . .

I reached them. Did not make a sound. Dug my claws into the worthless cretin’s back and threw him off my—the female.

Then Tim lay at my feet, as powerless as Hope had just been and about to feel pain far surpassing what he would’ve inflicted upon her had I not arrived in time.

This male . . . this male would die. Incredulous eyes blinked up at me, and I smiled. How could I begin to describe the pleasure I took from his paling face, from the knowledge of his own death stamped across wan features? I couldn’t.

Above Tim loomed an avenging angel with a smile so savage, so cruel, I could barely stand to look at it.

Lucien was towering above the blubbering mess on the ground, a brutal, inhuman smile twisting his harsh beauty into a terrifying, cutting mask.

My eyes shot to Tim’s groin where blood was spurting through a ragged hole in his pants. Oh my god. Lucien had ripped off Tim’s . . . Tim’s man-part.

Lucien followed my gaze. “I will kill him for you.” Cold eyes burned into mine. “Turn away.”

I will kill him for you. An ugly part of me rejoiced in the violence of that offer, the violence already perpetrated. If Lucien hadn’t ripped it off, the thing that was now the reason for Tim’s pain would have torn through me and destroyed a piece of my soul that I could never have gotten back. But . . . another part of me was horrified. Mostly at myself for not being more horrified.

Not human. Tim had not been human. Ruarc was not human. Ash was not human. None of them were human. And I couldn’t find it in me to care.

Ruarc . . . you have no good options left. The Council—” “Fuck the bloody Council and fuck their rules! She’s mine!” “You can’t be serious?” “Deadly serious.” “But what—” “I’ll protect her!”

Ruarc rose to his full height, towering over me. “Don’t you ever, ever, go anywhere alone again.”

What possessed me to say what I did next, I had no idea. “Y-you . . . you can’t t-tell me what to d-do.” His eyes widened for a second, then narrowed. He doubled over and lowered his face until our noses touched. “Watch me.”

Everything I was demanded I kiss her. Devour her. Claim her until she would never even think about leaving my side for more than a few seconds at a time. Possessive asshole that I was, I didn’t want to share her time with anyone.

Possessiveness surged through every inch of my being until she was all I could see. All I could smell. Taste. Feel. Mine. A playful sparkle lit her expressive eyes. “And you’re mine.” My gaze shot to her smiling face, my breath froze.

Lycans. It made just about the right amount of sense. I’d been through too much to doubt the crazy truth when I heard it. At the Hunters’ compound, I’d seen things, heard things that didn’t make sense. And though all the monsters I’d ever seen had been human, a monster lived inside me as well. An unnatural, inhuman monster that caused my soul to fracture and left me half of what I was meant to be.

“At some point in your life, if you are lucky, you might meet someone who touches a part of you you had thought long dead. A part no other has been able to see, let alone reach. It could take you completely by surprise and be someone you would never expect, or it could be a person who buries under your skin in such a gradual way you do not notice until it is too late.” His gaze grew sharper. Assessing. “If you meet someone like that, what does it matter if you have to share her? If the thought of losing this person is as appalling as the thought of losing a limb, you would do anything to keep her. Anything . . . as long as it meant you would be a part of her life.” My breath caught. He’s speaking from experience. Some unnamed emotion set my heart to throbbing. Who was this faceless, nameless woman that Ash so obviously longed for? And why do you care?

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” I swallowed, the hunger in his eyes making me melt. “I’m yours.” A long groan tore from his throat and his grip on me tightened. “Always.”

before he finally looked down at me. As our eyes met, I tried to infuse all my feelings into my gaze. The respect and admiration I felt for him, the desperate want I harbored for him—his body, his mind, his soul—the pain I felt at the terrible things he’d been through, and the very real awe at how he’d not only survived, but moved on and left the horrible woman without a backward glance.

As I stared up at Ruarc, trying to convince him with my eyes alone that he was worthy, that, to me, he was perfect in his imperfections, the bleakness in his eyes slowly retreated. They glowed, brighter than ever before. And then he slumped forward and buried his scarred face in my neck with a broken sound that split my heart in two.

What still got me was that Ruarc—grumpy, hard-headed Ruarc—had managed to win her over while I’d gallantly decided not to pursue her. To protect her.

My chest swelled, heart aching with both sweet delight at her clear pleasure and agonizing misery that her life had been so filled with pain that something as simple as winning a card game made her this happy.

Anger mixed with heartache as I tried to sort through our argument. I understood that I’d hurt him, even though I hadn’t meant to. I could appreciate his protectiveness—in fact, it often made me feel safe and cared for—but this time it had felt too much like being under someone else’s control; a feeling my body rejected with a violent bout of nausea. And the way he’d roared at me, terrified me into submission . . . It’s not right.

Lucien tracked her retreating form until she was out of sight. “My parents were married, you half-witted harlot,” he muttered, stiffening when Jason chuckled.

Who was this man and why was this the first time I’d seen that dry humor? He frowned. “Not a word out of you, pup,” he warned, and strode past us. Jason turned to me with a grin. “Didn’t know he had it in him, did you, love?” I shook my head. No. No I hadn’t.

“You deserve only the best.” A sharp pang pierced my heart. I didn’t deserve the best. Not even close. Not after what I’d done. And look at you now, my conscience spat. Lusting after Jason when you already have the perfect man wanting to be with you. God, what was I doing? “Jason,” I began, intent on pushing him away. But then . . . Soft lips swept over mine in a soft caress that left me shaken. Breathless. Branded.

“I . . . I didn’t—” My voice shattered. I would lose Ruarc. I would lose him. My eyes burned. He wouldn’t put up with a betrayal like this. He shouldn’t. He deserved better. More. Not me. Not my baggage, not the evil hunting me, and not the darkness buried so deep inside me it had become a part of who I was. I slid down the car, knees almost buckling when my feet hit the hard ground.

I’d hurt him. My beautiful, amazing, proud warrior. I’d hurt him. And hurting him made me feel like the lowest of the low. Like scum.