Page 79 of His Mark

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Jax was annoyingly good at his job.

For the last few hours, he had been trailing me through camp, sticking close, but pretending like he wasn’t shadowing my every move. He leaned casually against trees, chatted with passing wolves, acted like he wasn’t watching me, but I knew he was, of course.

He was watching and waiting for me to try something. Smart guy.

I gritted my teeth, adjusting the pack on my shoulder as I headed toward the storage tents, hoping maybe I could slip through one of the back exits.

No such luck.

Jax was there, leaning against a wooden post, arms crossed, watching me with that infuriating smirk.

“What’cha up to?” he drawled, tilting his head.

I exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. “Nothing. Just looking for something.”

Jax grinned. “Sure, you were.”

Damn it.

I turned away, heading toward the training grounds instead, pretending I wasn’t irritated, wasn’t planning anything. I moved through the different sections of camp, stopping by the mess hall, the weapons tent, the main supply shed, but everywhere I went, Jax followed.

It was almost admirable how persistent he was. And so annoying.

By mid-afternoon, I was done playing nice.

I had one last idea.

The wolves had dug out a diversion of a small stream so that the water ran through the edge of camp, mostly for washing up. The area was lined with thick brush, old trees bending over the water, their roots tangled in the dirt.

It was the perfect place to lose someone.

I strolled toward it, slowing my steps, pretending I was just out for a stroll. I crouched near the water to rinse my hands, listening carefully to Jax’s movements behind me.

He wasn’t directly on my heels anymore; he had given me space, likely assuming I wasn’t going to run while kneeling in the mud.

Rookie mistake.

I moved fast, kicking up dirt as I darted toward the trees. I ducked low, slipping between the thick underbrush, moving silently as I weaved my way deeper into the shadows. The moment I broke from sight, I pressed myself against a tree, holding my breath.

I just listened.

Jax swore somewhere behind me. I heard the thud of his boots hitting the ground as he moved toward where I had been seconds ago.

Then silence.

I smiled. Slowly, carefully, I slid further into the trees, making my way toward the outer perimeter. The moment I was sure Jax had lost my trail, I didn’t waste a second.

Moving swiftly and silently, I circled wide around the camp, keeping to the tree line where the branches grew thick and the underbrush was dense enough to keep me hidden. There was no wind so I hoped they wouldn’t be able to catch my scent. The damp scent of earth and pine filled my lungs as I breathed in slow, measured intervals, careful not to disturb the twigs and fallen leaves underfoot.

Silas thought I couldn’t handle myself out here.

That was his first mistake.

I had spent years learning how to move unseen, how to slip past patrols, how to track without leaving a trail of my own. The city had been a different kind of jungle—concrete and shadow, predators lurking around every corner—but out here was something else entirely.

This was my terrain, my home.

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