Raised by Wolves(91)

I paused for a single moment before thrusting that idea into the guillotine and dropping the blade. “And how many of us would make it out of that kind of confrontation alive?”

I felt their collective hackles go up all around me. For better or worse, this was our pack now. We couldn’t afford to lose each other. I’d die if anything happened to a single one of them.

“Our best chance to get out of this unscathed is to split up. One person goes in and plays sniper. The others rush in once the target is hit.”

I could see the logic worming its way into their thick skulls, and I pressed on. “If we all go, the Rabid will know it’s an attack. There’s no other reason three werewolves would show up unannounced in his woods. If one of us goes in and the others fall back, it won’t be considered as much of a threat.”

Lake ran a hand through her blonde hair, twisting her ponytail around her wrist. “He won’t expect us to be armed to the hilt.”

That was a near certainty. Lake was the only Were I’d ever met with a fondness for weapons. Weres rarely fought in human form, and with any luck, the Rabid wouldn’t be expecting a long-range attack. One werewolf killing another with a series of well-placed bullets would have seemed as absurd to most Weres as the idea of natural wolves settling dominance disputes with pistols at dawn.

“I’ll go,” Chase said quietly. “He won’t consider me a threat at all.”

It cost Chase to say those words, to know that they were true. To the Rabid, Chase would never be a real person, let alone one who deserved to be viewed with any kind of wariness or respect.

“He might not perceive you as a threat, but he’ll know you’re coming,” I said, my voice matching Chase’s for lack of volume. “He’ll smell you a mile off, and he’ll know it’s you. He’ll be waiting. He’ll have something planned.”

“He won’t expect me to have a gun.”

At the word gun, Lake leaned back against the dilapidated nightstand, crossing her right foot over her left. “Do you know how to shoot?” she asked Chase.

He shrugged. “Point. Pull trigger. How complicated could it be?”

Dev reached out one arm in a show of holding Lake back, even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. “Down, girl! The boy knows not what he says!”

“I’ll go,” Lake said, rolling her eyes at Devon’s theatrics. “I’m the best shot.”

Devon echoed her eye roll with one of his own. “And I stand the best chance of coming out of this alive if Mr.

Crankypants catches on to the fact that someone has him in their sights.”

Dev was young, but he was purebred, and Lance had trained him to fight the same way that Callum had trained me.

For a moment, I let the three of them stare each other down, and then I put an end to it.

“It has to be me,” I said.

All three of the others looked at me like I’d suggested inviting Prancer to a Very Special Tea Party.

“If any of you get close to him, he’ll know that there’s a Were here,” I said. “If he senses me, he’ll sense a human.

Outside of the Stone River wolves, most people can’t tell that I’m Pack from a distance.” The distinction between my scent and the others’ was the difference between someone who’d spritzed themselves with body splash and someone who sweated it from their pores. “I won’t even register on this guy’s threat meter. He’ll probably just assume that I’m some kid from town, poking around the woods on a dare.” I knew better than to pause and give them a chance to interject. “Besides, next to Lake, I’m the best shot. If I go, the Rabid won’t be on guard, he won’t be expecting me, he won’t recognize me, and I can hit him first try.”

Every single one of my friends knew that I had the best argument, but none of them wanted to admit it.



“And besides,” I added, “it’ll take me three times as long to get to the cabin as it would any of you. If I stay out of range and someone needs me, they’re out of luck. Any of you could get there in seconds.”

Through the bond, I got the feeling that none of them would mind keeping me out of the range of fire indefinitely.

“No.” I said the word and spoke it into their minds at the same time. “I’ve got guns, I know how to shoot, and I’ll be careful. If I can’t get him in my sights, then I’ll come back. He’s not going to want to attack a human in his own backyard.

None of his previous victims have lived within a hundred miles of Alpine Creek. He’s lived here for more than a decade.