Page 80 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

BOOK 2

Gertty Rudraw

PROLOGUE

Wicked fangs punched through my gums from the sharp, earthy musk that flooded my nostrils.

They were close.

I hoisted my rifle in my arm, the cool metal evoking a sense of calm and surety as I crouched on the branch of a large oak tree. My bullets always hit true. Finger flanking the trigger, I peered through the scope. Not that I needed the telescopic sight. Werewolves had a very keen vision. Mere muscle memory had me viewing the treeline through crosshairs.

No werebears in view.

Yet.

My fingers ached from the tight grip, and I readjusted the sniper’s rifle. With parted lips, I drew in the scents coiling in the air. Sky and the rain-kissed wind eased my taut muscles as I picked up the smell belonging to every werewolf in the Silverfang pack. From my vantage point, I caught flashes of silver and smoky dark pelts concealed by the thick underbrush. Already shifted, my pack mates waited for our alpha to signal, in case we needed to engage with the enemy.

Even if we are in the safe zone, you can’t trust the flea-bitten pieces of shit to act amicable at a meeting.

Our alpha stood in the center of the clearing. His eyes flashed as he scanned the grounds with hawk like vision. Broad shoulders rolled back, his stance proud, and Alpha Ryan exuded dominance. To his right loomed my father—the beta of the pack. The sharp planes of his face remained impassive, though the knot of muscle feathering along his jaw belied his indifference. To our alpha’s left—his top sentinel, Carter, flanked his side. I bit my lower lip. The way the male’s claws flexed hinted at the thin thread of control he held.

Gods, please don’t let that hothead spark a war.

A flash of movement caught my focus. Wicked claws sliced out from Alpha Ryan’s nail beds. His neat blonde hair stiffened, resembling the hackles of his wolf’s pelt. The sharp tang that wafted from my pack mates hit the back of my throat. Primal fury clung to their fur, tension choking the air.

My gaze dropped to my hands. Blunt nails and brown skin mocked me. As a latent, I couldn’t shift—had no beast to call on in battle. No primal entity lived in my soul, the absence of my inner wolf brought with it a gnawing that ate away at my insides. An emptiness, a void, never to be filled. My eyes burned as I suppressed tears.

From what my parents told me, I had an inner wolf at birth. But a treacherous witch fed me wolfsbane, trying to kill me. The pack healer couldn’t stop the fatal potion. However, he could manipulate the poison, thus sparing my life. Though it ended with me being the only latent in my pack. With gritted teeth, I blinked away the hurt. No way in hell would I allow one teardrop to fall. One didn’t make any strides by wallowing. It had taken years of crawling and fighting up the ranks, but I finally became a sentinel. The deadliest sniper in my pack. My asset to the pack was never to be questioned again.

The rustling of the underbrush snagged my attention. Blood pumping through my veins like pistons, I scanned the treeline.

In the shadows of the forest, glittering eyes appeared. Many glinting eyes. Then a figure slipped into view, stepping into the full moonlight. Two more figures shadowed the first, yet the male in the lead captured my gaze.

The breath fled from my lungs, and fire flared under my skin. The male was massive. Broad shoulders melded into bulging biceps, muscle upon muscle stacked on his body. He glided across the clearing, his lengthy strides eating the distance. Power wafted off the male, so potent, his dominance sent a jolt streaking down my spine. Though a werebear, my soul recognized his rank.

Dominant.

Alpha.

My lungs fought to draw in precious oxygen as my eyes slid up his body to rest on his face. Dark strands fell across his brow in tousled waves, framing sharp cheekbones that met a defiant jaw. The sharp bridge of his nose, and the firm slash of his full lips, stirred my core. But my abdomen clenched at the sight of his eyes. A deep blue so intense they looked electrifying.

Those intense eyes studied Alpha Ryan before flitting across the woods, dismissing the other alpha. For a heartbeat, his gaze shot to the trees’ foliage. My heart faltered as his eyes roved over me before returning to the alpha werewolf.

What the hell?

A spasm rocketed through my abdomen, moisture flowing from my core—coating the insides of my thighs. Cold realization rinsed over me.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered.

My arousal was spiking. A werebear had caused my body to react in the most primal of ways. Bile crawled up my throat. With a growl, I tore my eyes from the alpha werebear and slammed my eyelids shut. I took in a lungful of air, drawing in to steady my breathing.

Something wriggled from my core, deeper within. A spark of energy flitting to life. Like the flicker of a flame struck in all-encompassing darkness. I blinked, brow furrowed. The energy swelled. A tingling sensation fired off within my stomach. Goosebumps puckered along my arms. A hiss tore from my lips as pain lanced through me, like claws raking my insides.

A soft whine touched my mind.

My blood ran cold.

Mouth gaped, I searched my mind, seeking the source.

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