Trigger

7

They hung up, and Trigg hurried into the mansion, kicking in the locked front doors. The small destruction had his strength and aggressive nature racing through his veins. He was able to track the strange, elusive scent immediately.

He followed it to the second floor into a room with a disheveled bed and an open window that had seen better days. Was this where they held the female? The scent was overpowering.

The smell was getting into his brain, making him feel jumpy and strange. When he leaned down to sniff the pillow, it hit him right in the guts and stole his breath. He spent at least a minute holding that breath and dragging it back and forth across the base of his tongue.

Glorious, oh, luscious, sweet …

He wanted to devour this woman. Her scent was driving his wolf insane. He began sniffing like crazy, moving around the room. The scent was strong in the pile of blankets, and he picked one up, pressing it against his face. He breathed in with his mouth open. The smell of her infiltrated him and made his mouth water.

He was completely senseless for a few minutes. His c**k strained against his pants, and his fingertips throbbed, desperate to touch her. As he knelt there with the blanket pressed to his chest, his thoughts whirled in his head, bolting, stampeding thoughts that ran into each other and dashed themselves into a desperate, ferocious longing.

Mate.

A growl emanated low in his throat as his wolf fought to be free. It wanted to howl, run, and hunt. To follow this scent anywhere it led. The faint, musky remnants of it tortured him. He wanted to plunge his face between her breasts, open her legs and eat her p***y until she screamed. He fought with himself, his entire body as hard as the frozen tundra in Siberia.

He jumped up. He staggered backward, dropping the blanket.

I have to get out of this room.

He struggled into the hallway. His only thought was that he couldn’t let her go. If he took her back to the states, they would take her from him. His wolf growled viciously within him. That was unacceptable.

But if he hunted her and found her, he had no choice but to take her back to the states. If he tried to run, the U.S. government would hunt him down with the GPS tracker in his neck.

I don’t want to go back there!

If he tried to run away with Stormy and ended up back in the prison, they’d still be separated. He put a hand to his head, finally pulling his shirt up over his nose to block her scent so he could think. The rising musk of his own sweat filled his nose, and instantly he was calmer.

He leaned on the wall for a few seconds, breathing heavily. The longer he breathed his own odor, the calmer he became. He hurried away from Stormy’s room, shutting the door as he left. When he returned downstairs, he could barely detect the scent anymore. It was just a haunting echo, something that scratched at him urgently, but from a distance.

He couldn’t let it overwhelm him and make him lose reason, but that would happen again when he got close to her. He’d never been so aroused in his life. His heart pounded, and his mouth watered at just the thought of her.

He shook his head as if he was coming out of a quarterback sack, determined to play on. At least there was no one around, and he didn’t have to worry about the others finding and hurting her.

He grabbed a canvas pack and rummaged the kitchen, tossing meal rations, water, extra clothes, a flashlight, and matches into the bag. He wondered how long she would survive in the wilderness. She was probably a city girl with no idea that she could melt snow to drink. He needed to be careful because every time he thought about what might happen when he found her, the only thing he could think to do was tear her clothes off.

He pinched his nose shut for a second, clearing his head. He searched the lower bedrooms for camo clothes and changed out of his suit. Then he stopped by the hall closet, grabbing a parka and a thermal blanket. His wolf was starting to chafe against him, desperate to be running through the woods. He’d never experienced such agitation before. There was a strength and power in him now that he’d never known he had.

He walked slowly out onto the back deck. The wide expanse ahead was a vast, smooth white. It glittered in the starlight, a plane of crystal coming to an abrupt end at the tree line. He lifted his head, putting his nose to the wind. He felt the tension bleed out of him as he relaxed. He smiled. He’d never forget her scent. He could track it to the ends of the earth.

No matter what fate threw between them now, he would find her. He would never give up until he had her in his arms.

There!

The breeze changed direction slightly. There was a thin, warm current through the icy air. He could smell squirrels, owls, other wolves. He scented the damp spaces in the bark of the trees, the tangy sap, and heavy pine needles.

And Stormy. He could smell Stormy.

His grin widened. He kept his eyes closed as he quickly undressed and stuffed his clothes into the backpack. He took off running barefoot across the scattered snow. He shifted as he hit the trees, letting his wolf roar free of the human prison. His blood sang, his heart beat hotly. He threw back his head and let out the longest, deepest howl of his life. Every creature understood the song.

The alpha has come to claim his mate!

Any animal in earshot would know his purpose. No predator would touch her. No harm could come to her. Not now, after he had announced to the forest itself why he was here and what he sought.

He lowered his nose to the ground, relishing her scent and letting it fire the passion in his blood. Revenge and hatred fell away and died in the face of his one, true purpose.

Stormy!