Page 3 of Claimed

And now, it’s done. I did what I was ordered to do. I should feel relieved, grateful it’s over, that I’ve followed orders, that there won’t be another day anticipating doing this. Even if I failed at killing him.

I guess it’s just not in me to fire a kill shot. And I know to my core that’s a good thing.

Instead of feeling grateful, acid relentlessly washes my back molars as I shakily set the heavy gun into my bag, strip, and erratically shove my clothes and shoes on top of it before I drop the bag into the hole I’ve dug. I hastily sweep the dirt back over it, toss the leaves and catnip trimmings on top, and now… I’m shifting.

Hands become paws that hit the ground and I’m painfully aware of my labored breathing as I run. I’m not fast enough. Must run faster. Must get away instead of vomiting like I want to do. I’m not very athletic; it's been forever since my last shift and my body feels shaky. My back and my limbs are sore, and my stomach is in knots. I’ve eaten a bunch of the catnip, too, and it’s turned my stomach. I didn’t have much choice; I know the rest of Aphra’s potion to mask my scent won’t last too long, and she told me catnip would help if I ran low, though would only stop someone from scenting my nature from a distance. If they get close, the catnip wouldn’t work as well as her potion.

We’re rarely allowed to shift, let alone go for the kind of runs that build endurance, agility, and speed, but I run as fast as I can, mind racing with the reality of my situation.

I shot that giant black wolf and watched him drop.

I did a terrible thing I didn’t think I was capable of just now, but it's done. I’ve obeyed Wyatt. Father has been avenged. And maybe this will be the first step in stopping the destruction of what’s left of our pack. There’s so much work to do to fix it. We certainly can’t sink much lower than where we’re at.

I'm nearly breathless already, but I must power through and run faster, run harder than I’ve ever run. The wind kicks up and it’s so strong it’s slowing me down, but I keep going, hoping hard that Jimmy will be waiting with more of the scent masking agent my brother promised to send so I can disguise my scent once more.

Then we can mask and come back later and fetch the gun and the bag, but for now… get out of this area before the alphas from the Arcana Falls wolf shifter pack catch my true scent.

It shouldn't have beenmeWyatt tasked with this. But when Father taught us to shoot, he made no bones about the fact I’ma way better shot than Wyatt. Wyatt would never admit that he can’t shoot for shit. But since I can, and since he got teased for it endlessly by Father when we were kids, that’s probably part of why I’ve been tasked with this. Punishment for being a better shot.

I’ve also got a stronger nose than almost any male in the pack, too. Another fact my brother is angry about but takes advantage of. He’s got strengths of an alpha but yet I have some of those senses in spite of being female, despite being so weak.

Besides, I’m also tasked with this dangerous mission because I’m completely expendable to my brother, always have been. If any of the Arcana Falls alphas catch me and kill me, it’s not much of a hit to his plans.

He wouldn’t sacrifice one of his betas ahead of a female – that’s for sure.

I didn’t think I could pull it all off, but somehow I did.

So, why aren't I filled with pride at avenging my dead father, finally? Why is there a lump lodged in my throat? Why is my chest burning with remorse?

Because I might have killed someone. At the very least, I definitely injured him. Even if that man killed my father, two wrongs don’t make anything right. And doing what my brother tells you to do is almost never the right thing to do. But you have to heed his commands otherwise get punished, and his punishments are never light.

No, it wasn’t a head shot, but it could still kill the giant black wolf. He was bleeding profusely from what I saw until I got out of sight and the substance I dipped the bullets in might mean he’s unable to shift in order to heal.

***

I’ve been running for what feels like an eternity, but I’m panicking because I’m lost. I’m not where I thought I was. I’m nowhere near that old, unused highway that got me here.

I’m parched. Exhausted. And everything feels wrong in my nose, in my brain, in my chest. The wind finally died down, but the sky looks odd – a strange shade of blue. I’m afraid I’m about to pass out when out of nowhere, my nose and lungs fill with a new scent, a strong one, and I’m tackled to the ground by a large wall of heat.

I land with a yelp under a huge, heavy silvery wolf who roughly flips me to my back as he shifts, transforming to male human shape, ordering, “Shift!” in a deep, angry voice. And he's done it in slow-motion, the command coming out before he got all the way shifted. I’ve never seen a shift happen in slow motion like this!

And as if by his command, my body instantly obeys, my charcoal and white fur peeling away and vanishing.

This is an Arcana Falls alpha. And I’m under him. Not only is this one of their alphas, he’s often with Tyson Savage so I’m sure he’s one of the extra-alpha alphas. He’s been on every morning run I’ve witnessed. He’s the one with the gorgeous eyes that I’ve seen alternate between colors. Brown, then they flashed metallic silver for a second when he flirted with me in the diner that day. I found it odd, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to see the color change as he wouldn’t have known I’m not human. And then they flashed a vivid gray color again when I brought him a to-go cup.

He’s the one with the gorgeous mouth and the sexy throat. Heck, they’re all handsome, but the way this one’s eyes sparkled every time he looked at me in the diner… the way his eyes followed me as I served other tables around him? It made me feel things.I had tingles in places I generally don’t feel tingles in. Because I haven’t had the best luck with men, to put things mildly.

And now I’m under him.

And I’m caught.

I’m screwed. It’s all over.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demands.

And liquid-looking metallic silver bleeds halfway into his irises, though this time there’s no flash of flirtatiousness.

My voice won’t work. I will my brain to calculate my options.

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