Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Safe. Loved. Protected. Happy.
Beyond our home is a violent, ruled society I don’t ever care to encounter.
My oldest brother already went that route, and it ruined him.
Being around strangers means heartache, pain, and misery.
I’ll stick with what I know because that doesn’t hurt.
All I need are my siblings.
They’re my best friends.
Life is fun with them.
Together, we’re free in the wild.
But the wilderness is also the home of predators.
Bears, bad weather, sickness.
Other people.
We thought we could live alone and unmolested by the latter.
We were so wrong.
With their sudden presence, everything about our lives is challenged.
Loyalties become twisted.
Hearts get tangled in the chaos.
Feelings and urges cross impossible lines there’s no coming back from.
Bewildering. Depraved. Perverted. Dark. Vile.
My secret desires are wrong.
They threaten everything I hold so dear.
I could fight against it if I were alone in these forbidden thoughts.
I’m not.
We’re in this together.
Our love is untamed.
And we are the unruly.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Run faster.
He’s going to catch you, Rae.
Tears burn my eyes from the chill of the early fall Alaskan air that also makes my breath come out in white-clouded puffs. My lungs ache and my calves are on fire.
I won’t let him catch me.
I won’t.
My determination to outrun him has another shot of adrenaline surging through my veins. New resolve to beat him has me darting off the pathway between the trees into the thicket. Branches lash out at me, seemingly accomplices on his side. A particularly sharp one snags at my hair. I strangle the cry of surprise in my throat, not eager to give away my new location.
Snap.
Too late.
“Raegan Abigail Jamison!”
He only calls me by my full name when he’s pissed. This thought fuels me faster, ignoring the painful whip of icy wind and cruel branches, each taking their turns to punish me for him.
The snarled way in which he says my name feels closer. Too close. If Dad were here, he’d save me.
But he’s not.
I’m all alone with no one to intervene.
I could stab him. The thought has me cackling, unable to suppress the crazed sounds slipping past my lips. It could be defeat that has me sabotaging myself and giving up my location.
He won’t hurt me.
He can’t.
Dad would whip him into next week.
Another bubble of laughter bursts out.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Twigs break under his heavy boots right behind me. So close. There’s nowhere to run. He’s going to catch me. I grip the hilt of the too-big knife tighter than before. Even though it’s cold, winter promising its annual return, my hands are slick from sweat inside my thick gloves.
“Got you!”
The words are hissed half a second before strong arms encircle my waist. I shriek in surprise, stumbling over my own feet, and go down hard, taking him with me. We hit the cold, unforgiving earth with a thud that probably scares off any game within a hundred-mile radius. Pain assaults me from every direction—elbows and knees quickly bruising, the sting of my lip that must’ve been pierced by a tooth, and every single muscle on fire from exertion.
“Get. Off. Me!” I bite out my words as I attempt to wriggle out from his massive frame. It’s unfair, really, how he can have all the height and weight and muscles. I’m skin and bones beside him. I hate how strong he is despite our close ages.
“Give it back to me, Rae, so fucking help me.”
His threats don’t work on me. I’ve heard them a million times before. Though I may be smaller, I’m not afraid of him. I just hoped I’d be faster. Once again, I’m proved wrong.
He struggles to take the knife from my grip, but I manage to keep my hold on it. After seconds of not being able to take it from me, he takes another tactic, choosing to flip me over onto my back. His large hand easily covers my wrist, pinning it to the cold ground.
Ryder.
My brother.
Big, arrogant asshole.
I attempt to spit at him, but his other hand crushes my mouth, already keen on my underhanded tactics having been on the receiving end of them for as long as I can remember.
“Give me my knife back,” Ryder growls, blue eyes burning bright with rage.
Since he won’t let me spit—or speak—I glower at him, my nostrils flaring. His body, tight with fury, is substantial against mine and we both breathe heavily from our jaunt through the woods.
It was my knife first.
If he’d let me speak, I’d remind him of that. This battle has been going on between us for two straight years. Ever since Uncle Atticus brought it to us. The hilt is made of elk bone and has stars carved into it. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But, before I could claim it, Ryder snatched it up. He stole it from me.
To punish him for taking what was supposed to be mine, I spend a good portion of my days stealing it back. Some days, I win and have it in my possession before Ryder discovers it’s missing. Other days, he catches me in the act and chases me down until he gets it back.
It’s an infuriating game between us.
If he’d just hand it over for good, I’d leave him alone.
I mumble words that don’t escape the confines of my mouth, hoping he’ll relent on his hold on me. He narrows his eyes but eases up his hand that covers my lips.
No gloves.
His hand should feel like ice, but it’s surprisingly warm. He’d been inside the big house, helping Mom with Declan, when I’d seen he’d left my knife on the kitchen table. Pouncing on the opportunity, without much thought, is what makes me a good hunter.
I just wish he weren’t a better hunter.
I’m tempted to bite my brother’s hand, but that’ll only anger him further. At this point, I have to accept defeat. Our eyes lock and his expression, contorted into one of fury and exasperation, softens slightly. When he’s not fired up and pissed off, he typically wears an easy smile that lights up his blue eyes.