Page 47 of Anton

Sleep finally claimed me, the feel of her body pressed so perfectly against mine, the soft scent of her hair, and the rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat a lullaby I couldn’t resist. My mind quieted, and for the first time in a long while, I felt all my worries blur into nothingness.

Sleep didn’t last long. A noise, not far off, jerked me awake. I glanced at Marcie—she stirred, her eyes wide with fear.

“What was that?”

“Get dressed,” I whispered.

My instincts taking over, I stood and grabbed my clothes, tugging them on as I moved toward the door.

“Anton, is it them?” she whispered, her voice thin with fear as she hurriedly pulled on her dress.

“Not sure. Get your boots on and be ready to move,” I said, easing the door open just a crack. That’s when I spotted him—one of the hunters, sitting astride a quad bike, not far from our hiding place.

My gaze locked on him. A smirk tugged at my lips. We needed that bike.

The guy stopped and spoke a few words into his walkie talkie, before climbing off and heading our way on foot, scanning the area as he moved cautiously towards the buildings where we hid, gun in hand.

“Marcie!” I hissed, my voice sharp with urgency.

She rushed to my side, her breath quickening as the realisation hit. “How many are there?”

“I can only see one, but I doubt he’s alone. Even if he is, the others can’t be far behind. We need to ambush him—quietly. Nonoise, or we’ll alert the rest. If we take him down and grab his quadbike, we can use it to get out of here.”

Marcie nodded, her fear still evident but overpowered by determination.

The guy was poking around the large barn, but it wouldn’t be long before he moved our way. We had to act fast.

I motioned for Marcie to stay silent, then we slipped outside, moving quickly and quietly to the far side of the building, out of sight of the barn.

“When he gets close, I’ll take him down. You stay back until I say otherwise.”

As I spoke, the guy reemerged and turned toward the stone building we’d just left.

When the hunter stepped close to the door, I moved quickly, slipping around the side of the building. I approached from behind, charging at him and shoving him into the small room. The impact sent us both crashing to the floor, the force of it knocking the air from my lungs. His gun slipped from his hand, skittering out of reach.

Recovering quickly, I knelt on his back and punched him in the head. He grunted as his face slammed into the ground and before he could react I locked an arm around his throat and with one swift, precise twist, snapped his neck.

I glanced at Marcie standing in the doorway, her wide eyes fixed on me.

“Come get his weapons, honey,” I whispered, my voice steady. She clamoured to do so, her hands trembling slightly as she worked while I turned quickly back to the door, intent on checking for others, when a voice shouted from nearby, “John!”

“Hide behind the bed and stay down,” I hissed at Marcie, before dragging the guys body to the side and ducking behind the open door to wait.

A few moments later, the barrel of a rifle edged into the room. I grabbed it, yanking it out of his hands, and as the hunter stumbled forward, I drove the butt into his face. Cartilage crunched under the blow, and he let out a guttural howl, his hands immediately flying to his nose. Blood gushed between his fingers as he staggered back, his eyes narrowing with murderous intent.

Unwilling to fire the gun and alert any other hunters nearby, I went to swing it at his head, but he anticipated the move. He bent low and lunged toward me, his shoulder slamming into my stomach, driving me back a few steps and winding me in the process. The rifle clattered to the floor. He chuckled as he kicked it out of reach.

“I’ll fuck you up for that,” he spat, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand as he reached for the knife strapped to his thigh. He took a step forward, his posture aggressive, his chest heaving as he glared at me, teeth gritted, eyes filled with malice. I could see his muscles flexing, ready to strike.

But then his gaze flickered to the dead body on the floor. His eyes flashed with anger, at the sight of his dead friend.

“You bastard. You killed my mate. I think I need to teach you a lesson. I’m going to gut you, and then, as you bleed out, I’m going to find that sweet little bit of ass and make her scream before I do the same to her,” he sneered, his words laced with a leer that made my blood boil.

The red mist of fury surged through me and I charged at him, my body crashing into his in a brutal tackle that drove us both to the ground. The impact knocked the knife from his grip, and I pinned him beneath me. His fists swung wildly, one connecting hard with my jaw, and the taste of blood bloomed in my mouth.

The guy bucked beneath me, but the adrenaline gave me extra strength and I couldn’t be moved. He continued to flail, but I leaned in close, avoiding the blows and grabbed his headbetween my hands. The fucker had threatened my woman, and he needed to die. Rage screamed in my ears as I slammed his skull against the ground. The first impact stunned him, his body jerking beneath me, but I didn’t stop. Again and again, I smashed his head into the stone floor, each sickening crack echoing in my ears until his body went completely still.

“Anton,” Marcie cried, her voice cutting through the fog of bloodlust.

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