Trapped Between Two Alphas by Sam Crescent

sounds were
amazing. She could hear the insects moving around and the forest animals
hiding. Every sound was distinctive along with the scent of the animals.
    Lifting
her nose to the air she sniffed the air. The action reminded of her of her men,
the way they sniffed her body when they entered the room.
    Rustling
came across the edge, and then she smelled death, the same smell she remembered
on Frank. Charging behind the nearest tree trunk she dodged the bullet sailing
toward her. The man wasn’t Frank, but he was a hunter.
    “Fuck,
I need to hinder her escape. I missed. Can someone take the shot?”
    She
heard the man speak, and her anger increased. They were making it easy for them
to hunt her kind.
    You’re a werewolf.
    That can’t be possible.
    Being a werewolf is better than
being fucking dead.
    Cynthia
didn’t have the time for freaking out. She needed to survive the next few
minutes. Closing her eyes she listened to the man talking on his radio.
Dropping to her knees she glanced around the tree. He was trying to reload his
gun.
    Before
she had time to debate what she was doing she charged at him. She landed on
him.
    “Get
off me, bitch.”
    She
growled and sank her teeth into his neck.
    He
stared at her in horror, and she felt horrified at what she’d done. Grabbing
the gun she bent the weapon so no one had a chance of firing it.
    His
blood filled her mouth. She spat it to the ground. The metallic taste disgusted
her. Another shot rang out, and she cried out as the bullet hit her shoulder.
Running away, she headed for the bushes for protection.
    Glancing
down at her shoulder she gasped. The pain was excruciating, and it took her
breath away. Closing her eyes she covered the wound. Blood escaped the wound,
and the bullet remained inside.
    She
needed to get it out.
    Her
hand changed into a claw. The desire to panic filled her, and then she pushed
it aside. She didn’t have the time to be afraid. If she didn’t get the bullet
out and keep moving she was dead.
    “Get
that she-bitch. I want her hurt,” Frank said.
    They
were close.
    She
hesitated for a second and then sank her claws into the flesh of her shoulder.
Biting her lip until she tasted blood she found the bullet and pulled it out.
The silver burned her.
    Throwing
it to the ground she watched in amazement as she started to heal.
    Get moving.
    “I
hit her, Sir. She’s around her somewhere.”
    The
voice came from behind her. She rested against a rock.
    Cynthia
paused, listening.
    What a great way to pass your time,
Cynthia. You think you’re going to die, and you end up a werewolf. Instead of
dying from an illness you’re being hunted for sport.
    She
should write a book about her survival.
    The
man’s boot came into her line of sight. Instinct taking over,
she bit into his leg, bringing him down to his knees. Grabbing the gun
she rammed the butt of the gun in his face. Blood spurted out of the cuts, and
he collapsed. She’d not killed him.
    Her
body shook. Bending the gun she got to her feet and ran straight into Frank. The
bastard had injected her with a tranquiliser dart.
    “That’s
it, baby. There is enough there to calm you down but not make you sleepy.” His
arm wrapped around her waist. “When I saw you I thought you were a scrap of
skin and bones. That transformation sure changed you.”
    His
hand moved down her side like a caress. She snarled and pulled away from him.
The gun was trained on her.
    “You
know nothing about me,” she said, wiping the blood from her face. Her body felt
heavy from the drugs.
    “I
know enough. You’re Cynthia Lewis. Up until twenty-four hours ago you were
dying, and now you’re an animal.”
    His
gaze moved down her body. He thought she was an animal, but he continued to
stare at her in appreciation. The thought of him getting any
pleasure from looking at her filled her with revulsion.
    Her
hands fisted at her sides ready to take him on. “Where are your hunters?” she
asked.
    He
laughed. “I decided to