Chapter 10: Hunter

Today was going so well. With no surprise, little sister visits or detours to coffee shops or public exchanges with Lottie or the elf. My routine falling back into place where it should be, everything running on schedule as usual. Things going smoothly around town for once. Until now. Even before his features come into view, I can tell who the man standing on my porch is as I pull into my drive.

Why the fuck is Vincent here? I was pretty sure I made it abundantly clear last time he was in town that if he ever showed his face here again, I would tear it off with my teeth. Apparently, he has a death wish because there he stands without a glimmer of fear in his cold black and silver eyes. Not even deigning to wear a glamour. All of his sickly-gray skin visible.

Most elves don't have a healthy pallor to begin with, but for some reason, Vincent's is even duller and sicklier than others, making him appear one foot in the grave even though I know he's nowhere near a natural death. He wouldn't allow it. Extending his life by extricating magic from pixies, sprites, and fairies for his own benefit—and not in a humane way, either. From what I hear, most don't survive his 'treatments.'

Just makes me want to kill him that much more. And now that he's willingly stepped foot on my land after my last warning, no one would fault me for killing the arrogant male.

The only thing that keeps me from immediately disemboweling the elf on my front porch is the exuberant amount of security he's brought with him. Not only elves but fairies, shifters, and nymphs as well.

I know I can take them, but the odds aren't weighed in my favor, one against a dozen. Even as an alpha, I may be able to disperse his men, but he would be long gone by that time. The coward. Never fighting his own fucking battles. Brute strength only goes so far against fairy dust and nymph magic. I'd rather wait until I at least have Ryder around to even the playing field. He's one of the more feral fighters of our pack; even with his passive daily demeanor, his inner beast is one of the most vicious I've ever met. Even though he hasn't shifted around me in years. At least not fully, only partial shifts.

My truck is barely in park and turned off when I jump from the driver's seat and stomp in his direction.

"What the hell are you doing here? I thought I made myself clear to you and your minion crawling around town; I'm not selling, and there's no amount of money you can offer that will make me change my mind."

Vincent's answering grin is all self-satisfying superiority .

Fucking prick.

"Come now, Hunter, I'm sure we can find something enticing enough to persuade you."

"No. Now get off my property."

I point an aggravated, sharp-clawed finger down my driveway and away from my home. My body already trying to shift into my true form to fight the male trespassing on my land. He's pushing his luck stepping foot on an alpha shifter's land. After our pack, our land is the most sacred to us and is highly protected.

"Is that any way to greet a guest? I thought shifters were all hospitality and cordiality? No? Your mother would be ashamed."

We're only hospitable to invited guests, and he damn well knows that he is not welcome here. Ever.

"Say one more word about my family, and I will not hold myself back. You will be faced with my alpha wrath whether I want it or not."

He shakes his head disapprovingly, like a scolding teacher. "You should really get that temper of yours in check. Might get you into trouble one day."

Alpha rage is not something that can be controlled. It's instinctual, and holding it back takes every ounce of control I possess. A control I was forced to learn after an unpleasant incident when I allowed my inner beast to take control. A mistake I'm not going to make again. No matter how much I want to let it loose on this asshole.

"It already has in the past. I must admit I'm rather fond of unbridled rage and bloodlust when directed at my enemies. I like having beings with such power in them at my command." Vincent's eyes are dark and assessing as he looks over my strained posture and fisted hands.

I say nothing because I fear speaking will distract me from restraining myself and unleash the bloodlust he seems so fond of. Vincent, it seems, has plenty to say for us both.

"I just wanted to come by and see if there weren't some way we could work out this little disagreement between us like mature males. You have all this land just sitting here in disuse."

He waves a grand sweeping arm at the forest surrounding us as if it were a barren wasteland with no purpose. It has a purpose and a deep connection to a lot of non-humans. Many would be lost without this land to roam freely. Numerous sprites and pixies have made it their permanent home. They can't live in modern society. They aren't shifters or humanoid enough to pass for humans, even with a glamour. Most can't even speak words like we do. They're more magic and creature than the rest of us. Harmless in most cases but can be deadly if attacked or frightened. Their magic is the purest of all the non-humans.

I know this is part of the appeal to Vincent and why he wants the land. Which is just one more reason for me to keep it far out of his reach. He wants to defile it with his abominations—atrocities grown from the mixing of non-human magic and natural psychotropic plants to create his special breed of potent drug. The richer in magic the land is, the stronger it'll be.

Not in my fucking lifetime.

"My land gets plenty of use that doesn't involve stripping it to grow drugs. I am completely content with what I have and don't need anything more. Especially anything you have to offer."

"It's a real shame. I could use a shifter as powerful as you in my organization. You could make real money working for me. Have any female or male you want; live wherever you please. Not have to answer to whimpering simpletons complaining about roadside garbage and flickering streetlights. Don't you want to put your alpha power to good use? Commanding strong shifters and enforcing your will? That's what an alpha was meant to do after all. Lead. Command."

I sneer at the insinuation that I would associate myself with scum such as him. Or that I would ever stoop so low as to work for him.

"No thanks."

Vincent ignores my refusal again , strolling over to the carved wooden bench swing hanging from the rafters of my covered porch. Sitting he crosses one ankle over his knee getting comfortable. His black loafers polished to an annoying shine.

"Why must you insist on remaining in this backwater town wasting away?"

"I like backwater towns. They're cleaner than gutter cities."

Vincent winces mockingly. Pursing his thin lips and glaring at me through slitted eyes, the silver of his irises nearly swallowed whole by the surrounding black.

"I tell you what. You think on my offer, say for the next two weeks. And I'll be around when you're ready to accept. After that, I can't promise my offer will remain as juicy as this. Or as civil."

"Juicy as what? Unless I'm mistaken, you haven't made any offer, just vague statements."

He chuckles and grins. "See, that's why I like you, Hunter. You come to work for me as a general in my ranks, commanding your own pack of elite shifters for whatever amount of money you want, and in return . . . I get your land. That's all I want."

Before I can reject yet another asinine offer, he stands and crosses the porch to where I've been standing on the steps, glaring.

"Don't answer now. Just think about it."

"My answer won't change. It'll be the same in two weeks as it is today."

"We'll see."

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his pristinely pressed suit pants, Vincent ambles by me, not a fucking care in the world. Completely comfortable in his assumption of my inevitable acceptance as his football team of minions coalesce on the two black SUVs parked in my driveway. He stops at the rear passenger door of one and slips on a pair of mirrored sunglasses, flashing his fangs at me with a grin.

"See you around, Alpha."

"Better not. If I see you in my town, it won't matter how many people you have with you, I will kill you."

His smile doesn't falter, and his hands don't shake. Anyone else receiving a promise of death from an alpha shifter would be shitting their pants, but not Vincent. Death threats are a daily occurrence in his world.

"You say the nicest things," he mocks in a saccharine tone.

I don't move until the two black vehicles are out of sight. Letting out all my pent-up anger in a roar and one swift right hook to a column supporting the awning. It splinters and breaks clean through leaving small dangling pieces at the top and bottom. Sharp pieces of wood strewn across the deck.

Damn it. Now I'll have to make a new one.

The shift that began the moment I first saw Vincent continues to crackle through my body. I can't hold it back any longer. I need to let it take over and run it out. As quickly as possible, I pull off my shirt and pants, tossing them on the ground, not bothering to fold them neatly as I usually would. There's no time. My inner beast needs to be set free. So, I let it.

I release the hold on my control and allow my instinct to take over. The shift rolling through my body faster than it ever has. Flying right by basic unassuming wolf straight into my full true form. Ginger likes to refer to it as "beast mode" or "beast form."

My height stretches to over nine feet tall, knees reversing direction, popping into place as I settle on my hind legs. My arms and hands elongate, tipped with razor-sharp claws, while thick black fur sprouts from every pore covering my entire body. Jawbone cracking and growing to form my snout. The sharp point of my fangs curl around my lower jaw, and a snarl works its way from my chest out my throat.

I take off into the forest, crouching to propel myself forward with my hands and claws. The trees fly by in a blur as I run. The anger already beginning to dissipate the farther into the forest I go.

I don't consciously pick a direction and don't even realize where I'm heading until I slow on instinct. Standing on my hind legs, I slowly walk towards the small clearing where I first met Lottie days ago. Then when I arrived the meadow was empty, this time it isn't.

Before I see her, I hear her. The gentle strumming of a guitar and her sweet, melodic voice carry through the still forest. Her voice is perfection. It floats through the air and slivers into my bloodstream. The sound is melancholic and uninhibited. Her words laced with a feeling of freedom. A sweet singing nightingale. It eases my simmering rage, cooling it to nothing more than a tepid puddle.

Her scent is stronger in this form, my enhanced nose inhaling deep and pulling every bit of her into my body as possible. It sends tingles through my nerves, and impulses I've never felt course through me with my desire for more of her. More of her scent, her voice, and her soft touch threading through my fur. The need to claim a blaring alarm in my mind that I have to silence. The growing lust a fire I need to put out.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't spend any more time with Lottie than I already have. Especially alone, especially in this form. Realizing I'm still a nine-foot beast, I take in a deep inhale laced with gardenias, clove, and mint and shift down to my basic wolf form. I can't shift to human; I'd be naked and would freak her out just as much as my true form.

That's probably what I should do. Walk out into the meadow butt-naked and say something lewd. She would definitely keep her distance if she thought I was some sort of exhibitionist perv stalking her in the forest. But that could cause so many other problems... Unassuming wolf form it is.

Within a few silent steps, I'm at the edge of the meadow, listening to her sweet voice. I don't want to interrupt; I want to hear more of her singing—more of her pure essence. Her words sound familiar; I think she's singing a song I've heard before.

"And I don't want the world to see me.

Cause I don't think that they'd understand.

If everything's made to be broken.

I just want you to know who I am."

Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, but in a way I've never heard it before. Softer, quieter, more vulnerable. Sadness and joy mixing in a swirl of scents. Sugar and salt. Like flakes of sea salt on caramel chocolate.

Stepping into the clearing, her singing stops, and her head whips around to search out the source of the disturbance. When she spots me, her startled expression transforms into a smile so sweet, so heart-stoppingly brilliant, it almost knocks me on my ass.

"Hello there, handsome. I was worried I wasn't going to ever see you again."

Lottie is angelic in the golden rays of sunlight creeping in through the tops of the tree canopy. Her blonde hair glows like a beacon, drawing me to her light. The dark blue of her irises glittering like the surface of Blue Agate Lake only a few miles away, bringing the feeling of being adrift in the sea of her smile churning in my gut. A rapid pattering in my chest is the only indication that I still live.

No matter the logical reasoning I have as a man to stay away from her none of it matters when I'm in this form or my true form for that matter. I can't deny my inner beast's desire for her. The draw to her. Her sunshine hair and ocean eyes and nightingale voice. And finally, I give in with all of me. Relenting to my demanding inner self. If this is where my soul wants to be, then, at least for now, this is where I shall be. Sitting at her side and rubbing my neck against her shoulders. Scent marking her like I never have another. At least for today. Her presence the only thing reigning in the temper and anger Vincent brought on. The only thing keeping me from relapsing into uncaring oblivion.

Tomorrow, when I get back in the office and am once again a man and mayor and thinking with a straight head, I'll resume faking disinterest.