Mate Hunt: An Alpha Werewolf Romance Read online

  Then he was off her in an instant, and she heard the grunt before she saw the sight. Her eyes met Dylan’s, and the coldness in Sanders’ gaze had her shivering. It extended beyond, and she imagined the coldness in Dylan’s brown eyes, too—more ruthless, more dangerous.

  “I could have handled it—” she began, but he interrupted her with an icy tone.

  “He’s never going to touch you again,” was all he said before he hauled the unconscious Lance up and over his shoulder. It was a power move that he handled with ease, and Isabella gulped.

  “We need to get out of here fast,” he told her while walking to the door. “Robin was almost taken and I don’t think she’ll last much longer in there.”

  The words unspoken were clear. Robin was a very pretty girl, and someone else was going to get interested soon. Isabella’s mouth went tight at the thought, and anger clouded her mind. Wordlessly, Isabella followed.

  They reached the ship in no time and deposited Lance in the cell below, then did a quick discussion of their discoveries. Isabella had hunted some pretty valuable information via what she heard—namely, about Henley speaking to an unknown man on the phone from time to time that everyone speculated over, because of how rare it was and how much money was involved in the conversation. Gossip really spread viciously here, but Isabella knew they had to find out the truth if they wanted to prevent this from happening again.

  They both decided at the same time to do one last thing. They went back down from the ship, using the fog again in silent camaraderie to hide themselves.

  Then they navigated the quiet paths towards Henley’s office.

  *****

  The compound where Henley’s office was located was more guarded than most, but it was easy enough to climb the fence and sneak down from behind. His office was locked, so they picked at the window and slid in from there, adjusting to the dark room before moving along quietly. Whispers could be heard in the compound, faint and non-alarming, urging Isabella to be extra careful not to accidentally stumble over any of Henley’s collection.

  Dylan worked on the desk, while Isabella checked the figurines and antiques one by one. They were from different eras and there wasn’t a pattern at all to indicate who might have a hankering for the whole collection—and usually, Isabella was good at figuring out collections, having helped Isaac collect some valuables herself.

  When she finished looking over the collection, she touched the walls and felt through them for any hidden compartments, finally hitting the jackpot when a tiny vault was found behind an expensive Chinese painting. It was protected by numbers, and she was studying it closely when she heard it—footsteps drawing near. Then, voices outside.

  Her eyes met Dylan’s. He quietly closed the drawers and she went to him, but there was nowhere to hide in this tiny space. The voices stopped in front of the office door, and suddenly there was also no time to even get out the window, which they’d closed after they climbed in.

  There was only one other option, a tactic used by most thieves when caught in the act—and that was to pretend that they were supposed to be here in the first place.

  Isabella watched the same conclusion reach Dylan’s eyes. The knob turned, and suddenly he was lifting her towards the desk and quietly plopping her down on it. She only had a second to register what he was going to do before Dylan yanked her kimono to the side, revealing her string bra as she’d removed her shirt beneath earlier when Lance had torn it open.

  Then Dylan was leaning his head forward.

  Then his mouth was meeting hers.

  The first touch of their lips should have been bland and forgettable, because they were just strangers stuck together who barely had time to get to know each other. But bland was the farthest word she would use to describe this as he kissed her hard, opening her mouth with his. A hand went up to slide her kimono further down, coming in contact with her bare skin. His body slid in between her legs, and his tongue slid in between her lips.

  Fire erupted inside her—hot, heavy and all too consuming. It swallowed her whole and made heat travel up her spine as he turned the kiss higher, blatant with it. The knob turned.

  He pulled her flush against him, catching the moan that came out of her throat. Still blatantly, he groaned in response—and while Isabella told herself over and over that this was practiced and that groan was deliberate, her stomach jumped and flipped, and something in her throbbed hotly.

  The voices stopped outside. That was all Isabella remembered before Dylan angled the kiss again and it consumed her completely.

  Sanders’ face…Sanders’ face…the mantra repeated in her head. But it was drowned out by the wine he drunk earlier, she could taste him—all of Dylan, all that clean and male taste that singed her.

  She could smell him, and it took her a second to realize what was mixed in.

  Arousal.

  A thumb settled on top of her bra, rubbing a stiffened nipple. Her breath sharpened, and so did his.

  Then they were interrupted by the sound of a loud voice.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Dylan slowly pulled back, his eyes dark and his breathing erratic. Isabella’s world slowly righted itself as the buzz ebbed away.

  In the doorway stood Henley, staring at them in disapproval.

  Isabella’s back faced the door, so she couldn’t see Henley. But she could see the lecherous grin cross Dylan’s mouth as his eyes glazed over and his speech slurred.

  “My man. My woman wants to be fucked where she’d be caught. Do you mind?”

  Isabella turned her head, opening her mouth seductively even while her heart beat too fast.

  “Oops,” she giggled, burying her head on Dylan’s chest for effect. Heat radiated off him, bothering her more than comforting her with how good it felt.

  Henley’s lips flattened.

  “You’ve been acting very strange lately, Sanders. I’m concerned about you.”

  Dylan bared his teeth. “Oh, yeah?”

  Isabella held her breath, preparing for a fight.

  But instead of attacking, she heard Henley sigh.

  “But this isn’t the first time you’ve been caught fucking in my compound. Make sure I don’t find you inside my office again.”

  The words were delivered almost casually, but the meaning was clear—do it again, and they were dead.

  Dylan grinned again, clearly too drunk on his ass to understand. His stance relaxed against her, and he opened his mouth to slur some more words.

  But the words never came as an explosion rocked the ground, one so loud that it shook Henley’s collection with it. Men shouted from outside, and footsteps pounded on the ground. Henley and Dylan straightened up in unison, moving towards the door. Isabella followed suit.

  The sight that greeted her made her eyes widen.

  There was fire everywhere—particularly in the center of the island, where most of the black market goods and some prison buildings were located. Another explosion rocked the ground, and Henley cursed again. Then he started shouting orders about as men ran and took out their weapons.

  “Stay here,” he barked at Dylan. Then he was off, too.

  The moment he was gone, Dylan let go of his drunken act immediately. They went with the group and went through the fog, running towards the center as yet another explosion hit. It sounded like fireworks, only louder, and smoke soon filled the air.

  “The plan wasn’t tonight,” Dylan said tightly.

  Isabella knew.

  It only meant something had gone terribly wrong.

  When they reached the area, chaos greeted them everywhere. Most of the stalls that had been closed for the night were now on fire, and she could see kids running around, either trying to escape or defend themselves—the slaves, she realized. Some of the slaves were free, and the guards were attacking them with weapons.

  She reacted in an instant. Isabella took out her dagger and went for the nearest guard, who was trying to lift a little girl in the air.
Two slices and the man was down for the count, blood spraying everywhere. She went on autopilot, killing as many as she could, half-aware of Dylan doing the same near her. They shouted directions at the older kids to get the boats ready and to get the younger ones away because they stood no chance. Some of them listened—others didn’t, too absorbed in trying to destroy those that had hurt them.

  Just as the thought crossed her mind that this needed to be contained immediately, another explosion sounded and more fire blazed. Isabella glanced in the direction it came from. She saw Simon, surrounded by pirates and holding a torch in his hand, his face bloodied and bruised. She glanced at the man fighting beside him.

  She froze.

  It was her brother.

  And he was getting pummeled and within an inch of his life.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dylan heard Isabella’s cry of horror very clearly, almost taking an inch off his life as he delivered a round kick to a huge guard that was trying to take him down. He whirled in her direction, prepared to run, but was puzzled to find her standing and not being attacked. Her eyes were focused somewhere else, and he turned his head to look and found a sight that just didn’t predict any good outcome.

  Simon was surrounded by guards, as if they knew he was the start of all this. He was holding a torch in his hand, as opposed to the sharp weapons they used. Beside him stood a man with his own torch, and Dylan looked into blue eyes and saw what was about to happen to Isabella’s brother if he didn’t interfere.

  So he launched himself in that direction, never once stopping. Dylan muscled his way into the center of the circled group and made a systematic attack, handling the first one with a surprise slash on the back. The group turned to him, saw his dagger, and changed their focus towards him. Dylan met Simon’s gaze for a split of a second, and Simon nodded before helping out the brother. Then Dylan’s focus was consumed as everyone started attacking him at once with fury.

  Right. To them he was Sanders, and this was a betrayal.

  None of them were as experienced as him in a fight, which just showed Henley would rather buy quality goods and let the island’s non-magic thing take care of the rest. He slashed through most of them without any problem, but had trouble with the last one when he took out a small gun from his pocket and shot Dylan near the stomach.

  Dylan punched that last one out in the face, knocking him unconscious with sheer power. Then he grimaced as he felt pain lance down where the bullet dug in.

  Someone approached him, and Dylan whirled and held out his dagger. But it was Isabella’s brother, and he held up his hands in surrender and eyed Dylan warily.

  “Jason Hart,” Dylan intoned.

  Jason narrowed his eyes. “Which side are you on, Sanders?”

  Dylan shook his head. “I’m not Sanders. Sanders is dead.”

  Jason’s eyes widened. “You’re with that Simon boy.”

  Dylan nodded. “And your sister.”

  Surprise filled those blue eyes, and Jason looked around. But Isabella was still Blossom, and it wasn’t easy to explain in the middle of this chaos. So Dylan indicated towards the buildings with his hand. “Everyone out?”

  “Not yet.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simon running in a certain direction and disappearing from sight. Dylan turned his attention back to Jason.

  “Can you get them all out and have the older ones man the ships?”

  Jason nodded. “I’m on it.”

  Then he was disappearing from view, too, swallowed by the crowd that still hadn’t thinned out.

  Dylan took a moment to look around for Isabella, found her gone, and broke into a run straight in the same direction as Simon’s. He passed by tiny prison buildings and saw some fire starting there, too, with the cells mostly open—Simon’s doing. He followed the trail, finally arriving at the area where he’d found Robin a few hours later. Her cell was open, but the lock wasn’t broken.

  Simon was nowhere to be found.

  Dylan cursed under his breath. Then he tried to use his scenting abilities, sifting through the smoke and looking for Simon’s and Robin’s scent. He found them, but they were faint. Then he found another scent, a body odor that was distinct, just recent and near Robin’s cell.

  He used it to track them down, missing a few times when he lost the scent and had to backtrack. More explosions sounded near the market area, but he couldn’t focus on that now and knew Isabella and Jason were on it. He finally recovered the scent five minutes later, following blindly through the night and encountering some pirates that he needed to knock out.

  When he found Simon and Robin, they were in a not-so-good state. The body odor that Dylan scented belonged to the bulky man Robin had described to him, and the man now had a knife close to her throat as he used her as a shield. She tried to struggle, but his big arms kept her contained and there was nothing much she could do. The man knew how to lock arms tight, and Dylan had a feeling he wasn’t as amateur as the other guards.

  Simon was in front of the two, baring his teeth and glaring daggers. The man didn’t look the least bit perturbed, instead turning his gaze towards Dylan, who was approaching calmly.

  “It would be very beneficial for the both of us if you release her,” Dylan said, keeping his tone pleasant.

  The man cursed. “You’re not Sanders.”

  Dylan nodded. “If you release her, I will—”

  “Shut up!” the man shouted, his grip tightening. A trickle of blood spilled down Robin’s neck, and she froze. Simon snarled, making a move to leap forward.

  But Dylan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, using his strength to contain the boy. The bulky man watched the movement.

  “You’re the start of all this mess?”

  Dylan shrugged. “Maybe.”

  The man smirked. “The girl’s mine. I’m leaving with her.” His grip tightened, one hand resting intimately on Robin’s stomach.

  It made fury boil inside Dylan, but he kept himself outwardly calm and uncaring. “Ah,” he murmured. “But that’s just not possible. You see, that girl is one of us.”

  Dylan still kept his tone pleasant, but his gaze had shifted to Robin, who was eyeing him steadily. She was utterly calm, waiting for his instructions. Dylan let Simon throw out some insults and threats, which the man returned—and which in turn distracted him.

  He shifted his eyes once to her feet, then the man’s. He saw her eyes follow the movement. When they returned to meet her gaze, he saw that she understood.

  The knife tightened again, and it looked like whatever Simon was saying was getting to the man. Dylan squeezed the boy’s shoulder in warning.

  “Now, Simon, that’s not a proper way to treat a man who’s clearly intent on negotiating—”

  He moved all of a sudden, cutting off his own words and catching Simon by surprise. At the same time, Robin stomped on the man’s feet as hard as she could, effectively loosening his grip on her.

  It was the leeway Dylan needed as he launched himself at the man. They rolled on the ground with a hard thud, and the knife slashed at him, trying to sink in. Robin was thrown to the side, where Simon caught her with his fast reflexes before she could fall. Dylan only had a moment to bark at them to run and rescue the prisoners before he was throwing himself again in the fight.

  As predicted, the man was a skilled fighter and strong, giving Dylan a run for his money as he used the knife to his advantage and tried to cut Dylan over and over. A particular power move had Dylan cornered with his back on a building’s wall, with the man’s knife plunging in. It reached the injury where the bullet went in, making the pain double. The man powered through, and Dylan’s arms shook as he pushed the man off. Without his added shifter strength, he couldn’t outmatch the man here.

  The knife kept digging in. Then the man changed the angle up, and Dylan realized that it was headed straight for his heart in a few seconds.

  He pushed again. He struggled and kicked, and finally gained some ground as
the man staggered back and the knife fell to the ground. They used hands now to fight, swinging at each other until their faces were bloodied and their knuckles were torn.

  The man spat blood on the ground. “I just wanted the girl. Did you fucking want to share?”

  Dylan’s gaze was steel. “I don’t do little girls.”

  The man grinned. “That’s sad. She’d have been delicious…and screaming my name once I was done with her.”

  The knife glinted, and they both dove for it. The man reached it first.

  But Dylan kicked him and snatched it from his hand. The man gripped his injury, squeezing and making him lose his breath. Dylan staggered and fell, his vision blurring slightly.

  Without hesitation, he fell on the man.

  Then he plunged the knife in the man’s neck.

  There was a gurgle of blood as shock glazed over the man’s eyes, disbelieving that he was defeated. Then he dropped cold on the ground, taking Dylan with him as they both crashed hard. Dylan gritted his teeth as the pain intensified, taking a moment to breathe through his nose before pushing himself back on his feet.

  He staggered twice, then lurched in the general direction of the chaos. Dylan pressed a hand on his wound to slow the bleeding, the limp now no longer pretend. It didn’t matter. He still needed to fight.

  And he needed to find Isabella.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jason was obviously headed for the compound, using a path that Isabella didn’t know about and ignoring the prison buildings as he did so. This didn’t sit well with her, so she reluctantly had to stop following him for a bit so she could check the insides herself and make sure there was no one left behind. Most were empty, but there were some that hadn’t been cleared out, corners where unconscious kids were. Her mouth went dry and her heart tightened at the sight, and she gathered them in one hidden area and took note to go back for them right after.

  Then she was running for the compound just as the first shouts came.