Wild Hunt - Kali Argent Page 0,17

on his forearm, and she squeezed gently. “What I’m trying to say is that whatever you’re feeling is okay. Have you talked to her about it?”

“Not yet.” He couldn’t avoid it forever, but he needed to wrap his head around it first before they dived into that conversation. “I never thought I’d be someone’s mate. Hell, I don’t even know what that means.”

“Well, first, you’re not just her mate. It’s not a one-way street, Cade. She’s your mate, too.”

Cade blinked. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head. He didn’t know why that hadn’t occurred to him. It should have. Upon further examination, he realized just how true that statement was. Mackenna was his. He’d felt it from the first moment he’d set eyes on her.

He’d lost so many people, let down everyone he’d ever cared about. Having someone else depend on him was terrifying. This time had to be different. He had to do better, less selfish, more proactive.

This time, he couldn’t fail.

Chapter Five

Night had fallen.

They’d spent the past thirty-six hours scouting the shifter camp in the far western part of the state, learning every movement, every weakness. They still weren’t prepared, but they were out of time. It was now or never.

If they had any hope of rescuing Abby and freeing the other captives, they had to move. Normally, it would be Captain Deke Collins who led the charge, but this time, only one of them knew anything about the white-coated shifters beyond the forest.

Lieutenant Lynk Foster crept through the densely packed trees that surrounded the settlement, his pale coat gleaming in the moonlight. An albino tiger in the middle of rural Colorado would raise quite the commotion under different circumstances, but they were so isolated, there wouldn’t be anyone to see him.

He wasn’t the only one who’d taken to his animal form. A panther moved like a shadow through the forest, his inky coat the perfect camouflage in the darkness. To the east, a puma ghosted over the forest floor, her tail swishing with agitation.

Thea’s sable coat wasn’t as detectable as Lynk’s white fur, but she didn’t exactly blend into the night like Deke, either. Still, all three of them had an advantage over those who couldn’t shift. The vampires and werewolves had scattered amongst the trees, moving almost soundlessly toward their target.

None, however, were more noticeable than the humans. While they tried to move stealthily, their footfalls sounded like thunder to anyone with supernatural hearing. They were also slow, a little clumsy, and every one of them breathed like a wounded rhino.

Yet, strength came in numbers, and right then, they needed as many trained and willing soldiers as they could get. Lynk hoped it wouldn’t come to a fight. In a perfect scenario, they’d find the captives, free them, and be halfway back to the safe house before the shifter clan realized anything was amiss.

He hoped, but he didn’t count on it.

The Ikande family of lion shifters had been regarded for decades as royalty in the paranormal world. A large pride comprised of multiple generations, they had once lorded over a territory that stretched from the coast of California all the way to the cornfields of Kansas. Before the Purge, their wealth and might had attracted a dedicated following, but like everything else, it couldn’t last forever.

When the world had gone to hell, so had the sovereignty of the Ikandes. With the rise of a militarized paranormal government like the Coalition, shifters didn’t have much need for a king. The name still commanded respect in certain circles, and there were still those who remained loyal to the family, but the once great lion pack had since fallen from grace.

Adding to their troubles, the pride’s numbers had fallen dramatically in recent years. Obsessed with the purity of race and lineage, the Ikandes were now suffering the effects from more than a century of inbreeding. They had fewer fertile females now, which meant fewer babies born within the camp. Only a third of pregnancies made it to term, and for the offspring that survived, all were thought to inherit the albino mutation. Nearly half were born blind, deaf, or both.

They called them ghost walkers.

Eventually, the Ikandes had been forced to adapt or risk the extinction of their bloodline. At first, they’d tried breeding with other shifters, and while more of those pregnancies were carried to term, they still hadn’t produced acceptable results.

Lynk was living proof of that. Not only had he failed to escape being born a