Page 8 of The Wolf King's Demand

Just then, the tracker Tyler had sent out earlier padded in. The big gray wolf trotted to the privacy screen in the corner of the office to shift into human form.

He returned, tucking his shirt into his pants. “I tracked them to their camp about twenty-five miles west of here,” he said. “They took a circuitous route to try to throw me, but there’s no tricking this nose.”

Tyler smiled. Declan’s tracking skills were legendary. “Well done, Declan. I knew I could count on you.”

Declan smiled, and Addison noticed even in human form, Declan’s incisors were long and sharp. He looked like a wild man with his dark beard and shoulder-length dark hair that could use a hairbrush.

“Did anyone see you?” Tyler asked.

“What do you think?” Declan asked. “You know no one ever sees me unless I want them to.”

“That’s true. We nicknamed him the Ghost when we were younger,” he told Addison. “Do you know who it was?” he asked Declan.

“It was the Fleetfoot Rogues,” said Declan.

“Damn, are you sure?” Tyler appeared livid.

“Absolutely,” confirmed Declan. “I saw their leader at the camp. They were keeping slaves, too. Women and kids who looked underfed and squalid. The conditions were abominable.”

“Fuck,” Tyler growled. “Louis,” he called to his beta, “assemble thirty of the best fighters we have. We’re going to take down that camp.”

“I’m coming,” said Addison quickly.

“No way,” Tyler growled. “It will be too dangerous.”

“I can handle myself,” she retorted. “Besides, if there are children and women that need looking after, I’d like to help them.”

For a moment, their eyes locked. He did have beautiful eyes. Then, she chided herself for thinking such a thing at this time.

Tyler seemed to come to a resolution. “Okay,” he said. “But you’re to hang back until we secure the camp, and then you can come in and help with the kids.”

She felt better having a part in it. There was no way she was prepared to stay at home and be an ornament.

Sooner than she expected, she was hiding outside the camp with a small group of shifter warriors. She smelled the stench of the camp even without having a shifter’s sense of smell. She peered out through the bushes, waiting for the signal.

A flare flew up over the camp. That was it, time for action. They had the camp surrounded, and now the pack leapt in for the kill.

She and the large gray squad of wolves she was deployed with headed for the entrance where the slaves were being held while the enforcer wolves went to fight. She tried to ignore the screams and yelps of pain that erupted from the camp as the shifters were attacked by Tyler and his crew.

The gates on this side were guarded by two shifters. One was a wolf, one a brown bear. The two rogues were outnumbered, and the wolf was quickly dispatched. But the big bear posed a problem. He had a long reach, and the squadron of wolves couldn’t get near him. But Addison had an advantage. She could climb.

She was supposed to hold back, but she had this. She had been trained in using daggers when she was growing up. So she took advantage of the situation and shimmied up a nearby tree.

The leader of her squad saw what she was doing, and they herded the bear under the branch where she crouched, ready to spring.

She schooled her breath to calm herself. If she let fear rule her, she would fail. Slowly, the bear had no choice but to enter the space directly beneath her, and she dropped lightly onto its back, burying the two long hunting knives into its neck on either side.

The beast bellowed and thrashed, but it was no use. The lifeblood drained from the gaping wounds in its neck. It fell to the ground in a pool of its own blood, and Addison leapt free.

They quickly released the slaves and gathered all the women and children they could find. Some were free women, followers of the rogue pack who must have been here keeping an eye on the slaves. Addison noticed one of them slap a young girl of about four across the face because she didn’t move out of the way fast enough.

Addison was furious. She hated cruelty of any kind. She picked up the child, who was crying from the blow. “Where’s this child's mother?” she demanded.

“That was her mother,” the slave woman next to her said. “She always treats her like that, the poor little mite.”

The woman had disappeared between the tents, but Addison wouldn’t let her get away. One of Tyler's shifters shot after her, his nose to the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay, little one,” Addison cooed to the child in her arms.

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