Page 41 of Little Bunny

“You never told us what was going on,” Suero said. His leather jacket creaked softly as he shrugged. “I’m down for whatever. Just wanted to know if you had any intel.”

“I don’t know what we’re up against.” Taking out his phone, Matias read the text message.

He recalled Diablo’s demeanor at the tavern, a storm brewing behind his eyes. Instinct had told Matias not to let him leave. But today was crucial for the wolf. So much so that he knew Diablo would’ve defied any order to stay.

“Keep your head on a swivel at all times and prepare for the worst.” Whatever unfolded today, his priority was bringing his men home.

Hopefully alive.

If they weren’t, he wouldn’t rest until every last hyena lay dead at his feet. Blood would spill if he lost even one of them.

“You four,” Matias turned his attention to the men who hadn’t been given specific roles. “Stay on my six.” The directive was clear, as resolute as the steely determination etched across their faces.

Throughout the entire ride, Matias’s thoughts had been consumed by Elijah. His feelings for the human had been apparent to his men, even though Matias had fought against the connection every step of the way, convincing himself that his interest was purely physical. Then, his desire shifted toward a fierce need to protect him. Even his wolf recognized the truth, snarling to get to their bunny. The wolf was primal, operating on pure instinct.

The realization hadn’t fully struck Matias until he’d walked into the kitchen and found Elijah absorbed in the simple act of making a sandwich.

In that quiet moment, everything clicked. The undeniable attraction, the heated arguments, the fierce urge to keep Elijah safe. All of it had suddenly made sense.

His wolf had chosen Elijah the very moment the human had staked his claim on Matias by the pool table. From that point onward, there would be no room for anyone else.

Elijah was all it desired. And he’d just claimed his little bunny.

Matias cleared his mind as he drew closer to the building. The air was saturated with the noxious scent of hyena, so dense that it couldn’t possibly belong to just one individual.

His men caught the scent as well. They inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, low growls vibrating in their throats.

As they rounded the corner of the dilapidated building, Matias’s gaze caught sight of Diablo’s and Santiago’s bikes parked side by side. The polished chrome stood out against the backdrop of muddy earth and the rusted hues that dominated the landscape.

As he stood there, Matias surveyed the building, wondering how many hyenas might be inside. They were walking in blind.

Ever since they had trespassed into wolf territory, Matias had tasked his men with keeping a detailed account of the ones they’d encountered, striving for an accurate headcount.

So far, they had identified fifteen. Originally, there had been twenty, but five had met their end. Three of those by Matias’s own hand.

Movement overhead caused Matias to raise his eyes. Above, Suero peered cautiously over the edge of the roof, scanning the area below. Then he gave a slight shake of his head, a silent confirmation the roof was empty.

The others circled the building, their footsteps silent over the gravel. They, too, communicated with simple, wordless gestures—a shake of their heads. However many hyenas had shown up, they were all inside the building.

Matias approached a rusted, weather-beaten door but turned to face his pack. “Suero, you’re with me,” he instructed. “The rest of you, hold your positions. I’ll signal if I need you inside. Stay alert and watch your backs.”

If there were only a few hyenas inside, Matias didn’t want to aggravate the situation by walking in, nine deep.

The door creak loudly as he opened it. So much for stealth. He might as well have shouted his arrival. He stepped inside to the sight of Santiago in this third form, snarling at five hyenas still in their human forms. He stood at his full height, his massive frame eclipsing the dim light filtering through the warehouse’s grime-streaked windows. A towering lycanthrope, well over eight feet, muscles stretched tight beneath a thick coat of slate-gray fur. His elongated muzzle parted just enough to reveal razor-sharp canines.

Beside him stood Diablo, nostrils flaring, the promise of death in his eyes.

But he hadn’t shifted. Why?

The hyenas turned their heads to glance at Matias. Santiago’s and Diablo’s gazes remained locked on the enemy.

Matias walked closer, his steps casual as his gaze flicked over them. Then he pulled his gun from inside his jacket, clasping his hands in front of him as he came to a stop. “Which one of you ladies is in charge?”

The guy on the far right smiled widely, exposing the huge gap between his front teeth. “Looks like we have more wolves to play with.”

Matias shot him between the eyes, the gunshot loud and echoing in the open space. The man crumpled to the floor. “Anyone else think I came to play?” A slow exhale. “Now, once last time, boys and girls. Who. Is. In. Charge?”

The tallest shook his head, eyes wide. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “None of us.”

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