Page 71 of Alpha Hunt

What the hell is this place?

I stare at the sprawling complex nestled among the towering pines, trying to catch my breath. Whispering Pines Wolf Sanctuary, the sign proclaims in a rustic, hand-carved script. It looks like a postcard, all quaint charm and natural beauty.

But appearances can be deceiving.

I move closer, keeping to the shadows as I take in the layout. The main building is a large, log-cabin-style structure with a wrap-around porch and picture windows that probably offer stunning views of the surrounding wilderness. Smaller outbuildings dot the property, their weathered wood blending seamlessly into the forest.

It’s quiet, almost too quiet. The only sound is the soft whisper of the wind through the trees and the occasional distant howl. Wolves. The place is supposed to be a sanctuary for them, after all.

I spot movement in one of the enclosures and crouch down, peering through the chain-link fence. A large gray wolf paces back and forth, its movements agitated. It pauses, lifting its nose to the air as if catching a scent. For a moment, its eyes seem to lock with mine; I find myself trembling.

There’s intelligence in those eyes, a knowing look that unsettles me. But then it’s gone, and the wolf resumes its restless pacing.

I straighten up, my gaze sweeping over the rest of the property. Everything looks normal, almost idyllic. But my instincts are screaming at me that something is wrong here. Very wrong.

And Edirn is somehow caught up in the middle of it.

I move closer, keeping low and using the shadows to my advantage. My senses are on high alert, honed by years of training. The sound of footsteps has me shrinking into the darkness, where I remain until a pair of armed men stroll by. When they’re out of earshot, I creep forward, alert to the sound of anyone else coming.

It’s then that I spot an enclosure that looks different from the others. It’s a large, fenced-off area with a gate that looks like it’s been left open. Its high rails have signs attached at regular intervals. High-voltage signs. Whatever they keep in here needs electrified fencing.

I’m pretty sure I know what that is.

I approach cautiously, my nose twitching as I catch a scent that makes my breath catch. Shifters. They are definitely around. And not just any shifters – I can smell Edirn’s scent too. He was here…and recently.

I pause at the edge of the enclosure, my mind racing. If Edirn was here, where is he now? Is he still nearby? I close my eyes, focusing on the bond between us. It’s like an increasingly strong chain pulling me forward.

I spot a small side door that looks like it leads into the main building. A hard shove smashes the lock, and I slip inside, thankful for my shifter strength. I find myself in a dimly lit hallway. A glance up has me going tense; the tiny red light of a camera flickers overhead. I’m going to have to get in and out of here fast. But there’s no way I’m turning back. The scent of shifters is even stronger here, mixed with the sterile smell of chemicals and disinfectant.

I make my way down the hallway, moving quickly over the concrete floor. The hallway leads to a heavily barred door. I have to put my shoulder into it to raise the bar, but eventually, it opens up into a huge room that looks like some kind of lab. There are tables lined with scientific equipment, computers, monitors, darts, and syringes in neat lines. But that’s not what catches my attention.

It’s the cages.

Rows and rows of them; big enough to house a standing man, but that’s not what’s inside them. These are wolves. The shifters I scented.

Some of them are pacing restlessly, their claws scraping against the metal floors of their cages incessantly. Others lie still as if they’ve given up hope. I move closer, peering into their eyes. They’re dull and lifeless, no spark left. Until I get close, and then there’s sheer rage. One of them bounds to its feet, hurling itself brutally at the bars, then landing on the floor, growling at me.

What the actual fuck?

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Who would do something like this? And why? My mind is reeling with questions, but one thought rises above the rest.

Where is he?

I know he’s here somewhere. I can feel him.

I move quickly through the room, constantly aware that alarms may go off at any second. My anger climbs as I take in the sight of the caged wolves. A few of them snarl at me as I pass, their teeth bared in a vicious display of aggression. Others cower in the back of their cages, their eyes wide with fear.

“Oh, my God, what have they done to you?” I whisper. I study each of them in turn, my eyes roving over their lean, muscular bodies. I note the differences in size and coloring – some are clearly males, larger, and more powerfully built, while others have the sleeker, more graceful lines of females. Their coats range from inky black to smoky gray to mottled shades of brown and tan. Despite the variations, they all share the same fierce, wild beauty that takes my breath away.

My kind.

It breaks my heart. I fight down the emotion and try to focus on what I’m here for. However, that’s becoming increasingly murky. I’d come to find my mate. Now, there are others. And I have questions.

I’d thought the Wildview wolves were just abducted for breeding purposes. Sierra and Savannah had been intended to produce pups for packs seeking females. Why would these people want males? This…this is something else entirely.

What the hell is going on here?

As I reach the far side of the room, a flash of movement catches my eye. In the corner cage, a massive wolf prowls restlessly, its powerful muscles rippling beneath a coat of silver-gray fur. It’s easily the largest one here, dwarfing the others with its sheer size and presence.