Un.Wavering (Claimed Series Book 3) Read online

  After traveling through the rear foyer, he pushed her towards the back door. Only, as soon as Hayden’s hand grabbed the door handle, she heard a crowd of bodies hastily close in from outside. She retracted her hand quickly, as if burned.

  As she reached for the knives under her coat, Nicolas grabbed her wrist and tugged her away. Under his dominant guidance, she was nothing but his marionette.

  “Your knives will not help you here. We must escape as quickly as possible.”

  If Hayden didn’t know any better, she would say Nicolas was frightened. But why shouldn’t he be? She was. The last time Hayden was on the other end of a Hunter’s rifle, they’d been scarily good at aiming and quickness. And that was when Hayden had a wide-open forest to her advantage.

  This time, their enemies surrounded them on their terrain.

  A resonating bang sounded as the cabin doors slammed open. Distant swearing sounded from the men, most likely a reaction to seeing the carnage, but they abruptly turned silent. After all, Hunters did not give away their position, even if their prey could smell them coming.

  Nicolas forced Hayden down a tight hallway towards one of the bedrooms. She knew the Hunters wouldn’t lower their guards until they searched and cleared the entire cabin. Their best chance was through a window and making a run for it.

  Only, as soon as they entered a bedroom, a Hunter was already climbing inside.

  The lethal human barely had time to raise his rifle. Nicolas lunged across the room with a single bound and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. Using brute strength alone, he bent the long barrel as if it were plastic before ripping it cleanly from the Hunter’s hands.

  The Alpha male then used the end of the rifle and jammed it into the Hunter’s skull, right between his eyes.

  Hayden grimaced, but abruptly stiffened. The hairs on the back of her neck stood. She whirled around, her eyes desperately seeking the malevolent source. Standing outside the bedroom and across the hall, another Hunter stood, his rifle ready and aiming true.

  She quickly closed the door to the bedroom and lunged away, shouting something incoherent to Nicolas in warning. The rifle fired and the bullet tore through the door as if it were mere paper.

  Hayden never had the chance to land before a sharp pain erupted in her shoulder.

  Nicolas grabbed her before she hit the ground and forced her to exit through the window. As soon as their feet hit the ground, he tossed her forward, growling something about moving and quickly.

  Hayden stumbled, her shoulder searing, but she obliged. She sprinted as fast as she could, aware of the Hunters in close proximity. Gunfire rained after them and tree bark exploded from stray bullets. All too close for comfort.

  She didn’t even know if Nicolas was following, leading, or matching her speed. She just ran, having the blind instinct of surviving and leaving the cabin behind. If she didn’t get out alive, who would be there for Cole?

  “Hayden.”

  The sound of her racing heart made her nearly deaf, but she couldn’t ignore the heavy hand on her shoulder, the same shoulder that burned and ached horribly. A strangled growl escaped past her lips and she reared away from the touch.

  When her vision cleared, she observed Nicolas standing opposite of her, his hand still outstretched. His eyes were cold, unconcerned, if not possessing a sliver of frustration.

  Fortunately, the sound of gunfire seemed distant and unthreatening.

  “What did I tell you about dodging?” He waved his palm, revealing the crimson stain of fresh blood on his skin. “Foolish girl.”

  Her teeth were on edge as he peeled back the lapel of her coat, bringing with it skin tissue and other things that might have been bullet or bone fragments. The smell of silver and gunpowder was almost overwhelming.

  She watched his face darken and his frustration heighten. Whatever he saw, he didn’t think it was favorable. It didn’t feel favorable. Something akin to desperation flashed in his normally impassive eyes, but it was gone a second later.

  Hayden laughed breathlessly, trying to push away the anxiety. “It’s a good thing I possess Celeste’s altered venom. I’m sure I’ll heal up quickly.” It was the first time she admitted it aloud, much less make light of it.

  Nicolas wasn’t amused.

  “You were a test subject, nothing more.” He put her coat back in place. “You possess some heightened ability; immunity to silver is not one of those abilities. Even her prized Carriers are not entirely immune to silver.”

  Hayden had known that, she was just trying to lighten the mood. However, judging from Nicolas’ face, she realized there was nothing to take so lightly. She remembered when Evan had carved his initial into her chest and the silver poisoning that followed. It wasn’t something she wanted to live through again.

  “I’ve survived it before. Twice before. Once with the tonic and once without—”

  “Not. Like. This.”

  Taken aback at his ferocity, Hayden watched in silence as Nicolas scrutinized their surroundings. His normally focused eyes were far away, mere proof his mind wasn’t present. She could almost see his thoughts racing with possibilities and reluctances.

  Without any warning, the Alpha male leaped into action. He grabbed Hayden’s coat, pulling it open to reveal the knives underneath.

  “We will have to carve out the infected wound as much as possible. We should amputate your arm if you want to see morning.”

  “What? No! The blade is silver!”

  Nicolas reached for her shoulder. Acting on instinct alone, she curled her fist and punched him in the face, effectively taking him by surprise. Before she could make a quick escape, he tackled her from behind.

  The large male wrapped his arms and legs around her, locking her limbs together. Startled at the action, and unable to support his weight, Hayden collapsed to the ground.

  “We have no time for arguing or for experimenting,” he instructed calmly. “A silver blade will have to do. You have a better chance at surviving a clean cut from a silver blade as opposed to a fragmented, silver bullet. We will cauterize the open tissue.”

  He spooned her from behind, keeping her knees locked and her arms bound with ridiculous ease. As the cold knife touched her gaping flesh wound, her body quivered and she issued a piercing scream.

  “Hush.”

  Hayden desperately tried to morph into her wolf, hoping her canine form would succeed in escaping from Nicolas’ domineering hold. But every time she tried to reach for her other half, an overbearing and authoritative influence suppressed her.

  Cole controlled the same influence as her Alpha. He had the ability to force or oppress her canine transformation. Nicolas possessed the same power, either because he was a more dominant force, or because they were ‘claimed’ mates.

  Nicolas forcibly placed his forearm into Hayden’s mouth, stifling her screams.

  “Bite on my arm.”

  She happily obliged as he dug the knife into her bullet wound, scraping out the torn flesh and the bullet fragments. The silver stung, searing her skin and almost cauterizing it closed. Between the silver in her system, and the unbearable pain, her world clouded.

  Facing death this time around was far more terrifying. She’d been scared before, but this was different. She had things left to accomplish. Cole was alone and in the hands of Celeste. Hayden’s pack was relying on her to bring their Alpha back.

  She couldn’t go now…

  Blood filled her mouth as she gnawed on Nicolas’ arm. Subconsciously, she lapped at the liquid, foolishly hoping it would give her a sliver of his strength. Cole’s brother never uttered a complaint at her treatment, nor did he pull his arm away.

  Hayden felt the knife hover over her skin, as if Nicolas debated about whether to cut above the wound or further up her arm. But he wasn’t hesitant, she realized a moment later, he was vigilant.

  “Release her.”

  It was difficult to pry her eyes open. Only when she heard the familiar sound of a rifle’s safet
y click, did she find the strength to rouse herself.

  At first, she thought it was a group of Hunters, prepared to finish their job. There were four men in the lead and two women behind, all carrying rifles. Their scent, and the three wolves standing loyally at their sides, gave them away.

  They were werewolves.

  The leader of the group, a man with a bushy amber beard, assessed Hayden and Nicolas closely, his eyes landing on her open wound. He abruptly lowered his weapon, clearly putting the two and two together. The rest of his pack followed his lead.

  “We have what she needs.”

  Nicolas kept firm hold on the knife, not moving a muscle. She vaguely wondered if the group of werewolves identified him as Nicolas Slayter, the Alpha of the rogues. At least, he was the rogue Alpha to everyone but Hayden and Celeste’s closest allies.

  Another wave of dizziness and fatigue washed over Hayden, causing her head to collapse back and her eyes to close. The familiar effects of silver poisoning weighed heavily on her limbs and her wolf retreated further from her reach.

  “What makes you think we would follow you?” Nicolas inquired lowly.

  “She’s dying. Either you can follow us for the tonic, or you can try to save her ineffectively by sawing off her arm. Your choice. We couldn’t care a less either way.” The man sniffed. “We were drawn out here by the commotion with the Hunters. We will be fortunate if you didn’t lead them to our abode.”

  “My sincerest apologies.” The Slayter Alpha sounded anything but sincere.

  Hayden pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing. She needed that tonic. What game was Nicolas playing? He was not one to play coy with strangers. Nor was he a man that would outwardly show reluctance and hesitation.

  “I never want to be responsible for a female’s death,” the man continued, sounding a bit more compliant. “We need as many of them alive as we can. I guarantee you that this is no trick. We’ll help with her wound and then you may leave. No strings attached.”

  Nicolas remained motionless, a statue of cold distrust. Hayden didn’t understand. The man was playing some game, a game she wasn’t privy to.

  “Please,” Hayden whispered, trying to pull away from Nicolas. “I need this.”

  Her pleading seemed to be what Nicolas waited for. He spurred into action, grabbing Hayden around the middle and hoisting her off the ground. He cradled her close, protectively, either out of true desire to do so, or more believably, for the watchful spectators.

  “The name’s Henry.” The scruffy werewolf introduced. “And you are?”

  “Cayden,” Nicolas responded, hardly missing a beat. “This is Nicole, my mate.”

  Hayden would have cringed at the introduction had she been in the state to do so. It was both ironically amusing and exasperating.

  Nicolas had a dark sense of humor.

  As she drifted off into unconsciousness, she knew Nicolas’ humor wasn’t his only dark trait. The man, despite his ‘noble’ intentions of rescuing Cole, had an overall dark nature. She hoped her alliance with him didn’t come back and bite her in the ass.

  3. Chapter Three

  “Nice artillery.”

  Hayden’s eyes twitched restlessly behind closed lids. The comment roused her from the darkness and the vague, painful echoes of silver poisoning. Her first sense, beside the muttered compliment, was the dull ache in her shoulder.

  At least it was healing. Numbness surrounded the wound, and warmth emitted from it, but otherwise, it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been. A thick, spongy bandage wrapped securely around her shoulder and under her arm.

  The strange werewolf pack proved more than efficient in healing. Anything was better than Nicolas sawing off her arm to prevent infection.

  Her second sense upon wakening was the smell. Without opening her eyes, she knew they were in a damp, earthy hideout. Dirt was the primary scent, the unwashed bodies was the second.

  Her own included.

  “Can you actually use them? Or are they just for petty decoration?”

  Hayden inhaled slowly, evenly, before opening her eyes. She was underground. The packed dirt ceiling, walls, and floor were evidence enough. It was warm and humid, almost unbearably so.

  Next to her, a man sat holding a long sword. A sharpening tool poised motionlessly over the blade, as if he had stopped his task just before Hayden regained consciousness. His dark eyes were not focused on Hayden, but past her and onto the table next to her.

  Straining her eyes, Hayden spied her throwing knives next to an array of bloody rags and clear vials of tonic. All eight knives seemed to be accounted for, she realized with relief.

  However, her relief was short-lived when she registered his mocking question.

  “Petty decoration?” Her voice came out hoarse, as if she’d been screaming constantly for hours. “If I wanted to decorate myself, I would choose a long sword, not knives I keep hidden underneath my clothing.”

  Here, she eyed his sword pointedly.

  He hardly seemed daunted at her rebuttal, choosing to focus on his blade instead. “Yes, but you don’t have much clothing to hide them under, do you?”

  Hayden looked down, just noticing she was nude from the waist up. Across the room, her bra, shirt, and jacket were discarded in a pile. They still looked useable. The bloodied clothing was all she had until she could find something more suitable.

  She gazed back at the man dubiously, studying him silently. He continued sharpening his blade in slow, even strokes. Not once had he thrown her exposed body any lewd sneers or crude stares. He was unlike any male she’d encountered.

  With the exception of Adolf, of course.

  “Don’t mind Jax.” A female suddenly appeared in the room. “To him, there is only one female that can wield a blade efficiently.”

  “She clearly can’t defend herself. Even if they were Hunters, she still let herself get shot by humans, didn’t she?” The man, Jax, glanced at Hayden’s wounded shoulder, as if to say her inadequacy with a blade was to blame for the Hunters’ gunshot wound.

  She shifted uncomfortably.

  Since becoming a werewolf, her modesty lessened. She wasn’t uncomfortable being nude around strangers, especially fellow werewolves, but she was uncomfortable with the sudden realization that someone was missing.

  “Where is…” Nicolas. “Cayden?”

  Fortunately, she remembered Nicolas’ cover story just in time, and yet, all eyes turned in her direction, as if they knew she was being deceitful. Either that, or something had transpired during her unconsciousness.

  “Here.” The female entered the room and discarded a pile of fresh clothes next to Hayden. “Get dressed. We’re just starting dinner. We will get you up to speed.”

  Hayden’s initial reaction was to push away the clothes and demand to know Nicolas’ whereabouts. However, upon smelling the faint aroma of cooking meat, her inquisitive nature instantly vanished. She was famished.

  Nicolas could take care of himself.

  The woman left, leaving Hayden alone with the sword-sharpening male. She flashed another dubious glance at his solitary form, watching as he worked on his blade. He held it and treated it as if it were a precious and rare relic.

  “I suppose I have you to thank for my healing…”

  “Why would you assume that?” he asked quietly, preoccupied with his task.

  Hayden narrowed her eyes. “You’re sitting at my bedside, acting the healer.”

  A wary grin threatened to stretch his lips. “I was assigned to keep watch over you just in case you tried something. Although your mate spun an interesting tale, not all of us trusted a knife-yielding female at our back.” He glanced up at her. “Don’t worry; I wasn’t the one who was threatened.”

  Hayden grimaced before reaching for the clothes. She realized she was laying upon a crude table, the kind of table a run-down school would use at their facility. No other furniture was in the room besides the metal folding chair Jax occupied.

 
Shouldering on the clothes, she eyed her coat from across the room. She would need to grab the extra layer before leaving. Not only did it provide more heat, but it also covered her knives, giving her the element of surprise.

  “So, do you really know how to wield that sword? Or is it just for petty decoration?” Hayden inquired innocently, jumping off the table and searching for her boots.

  “It’s not mine.”

  Pausing, Hayden looked up at him. She assumed, because he held it so protectively, and took such good care of it, that it was his. “Then who—”

  “It belongs to my wife.”

  Wife.

  It was a word she’d become unfamiliar with during her stay with Cole. A quick sniff confirmed the man was a werewolf, yet he used untraditional terms and he wore a gold ring on his left hand. Werewolves usually didn’t use jewelry to state their claim, they used their teeth and their scent.

  Subconsciously, Hayden touched Nicolas’ claim on her neck and assessed the man thoughtfully. “You mean your mate?”

  Jax lifted an eyebrow, offering her a distracted glance. “I prefer the term wife. It sounds less barbaric and more eloquent, don’t you think?”

  She scoffed. “I haven’t met a werewolf who was worried about eloquence. Just his claim.” Hayden dropped her hand from her neck, bending forward to finish fastening her boots. “What happened to her? Is she still alive?”

  Briefly, she wondered if she was being too inquisitive, too nosey, but she shrugged her uncertainty away. She really didn’t care how she came across to these people. They saved her life, yes, but she didn’t owe them submission.

  She wanted answers.

  “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Jax stood abruptly, causing his metal chair to groan noisily. “Come on, your questions will be answered shortly. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

  Hungry? She was ravenous.

  Faithfully following his lead, Hayden exited the alcove and entered a main living area. It was small, more like a burrow and hardly large enough to fit all the werewolf occupants. It was also a lot warmer and a lot more putrid. Hayden had half the sense to go back to her small alcove and feign a headache.