Rhyannon Byrd - Last Wolf Hunting

 “I thought you swore you’d never come back,” Jillian whispered, her eyes glittering with emotion.

“And a promise is a promise, Jeremy.”

“And some promises,” he countered in a husky rasp, “are made to be broken.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing everyone knows about you, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Then, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary going on, she turned to walk away.

Just. Like. That.

Oh, no. No bloody way. She was out of her ever-loving mind if she thought she was getting away that easily. Gripping her shoulder, Jeremy spun her around.

The anger was crashing through him now, faster than he could control it. Like a fault line ready to explode, his anger had seethed beneath his easygoing surface. Every time he saw her – and couldn’t touch her – it had grown.

“I’m going to say this once, Burns. Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

Not touch her? Not likely .

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rhyannon Byrd fell in love with a Brit whose accent was just too sexy to resist. Luckily for her, he turned out to be a keeper, so she married him and they now have two precocious children, who constantly keep her on her toes. Living in the Southwest, Rhyannon spends her days creating provocative romances with her favourite kinds of heroes – intense alpha males who cherish their women. When not writing, she loves to travel, lose herself in books and watch as much football as humanly possible with her loud, fun-loving family.

For information on Rhyannon’s books and the latest news, you can visit her website at www. rhyannonbyrd.com.

Dear Reader,

The world of the Bloodrunners is a complex blend of fate and free will, of passion and prejudice…of beauty and betrayal. A world that finds the half-human, half-werewolf Runners separated from their Lycan birth-pack because their bloodlines are considered less than “pure.”

In Last Wolf Hunting , the second instalment of the trilogy, two people who are drawn together by destiny within this unjust society find themselves torn apart by circumstance. The gorgeous, irreverent Bloodrunner Jeremy Burns, and the pack’s Spirit Walker, Jillian Murphy, have spent ten long years feeling as if a part of them was missing. And though their hearts are battered and bitter, they still crave that which they’ve lost. Until, after a decade of separation, fate brings them together once again…

Jeremy and Jillian’s story is a provocative, emotional tale of second chances – of a perfect moment, once thought forever lost, finally recaptured. I hope their journey will touch your heart, and that you’ll pull for them along the way.

All the best!

Rhyannon

RHYANNON BYRD

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my mother-in-law, Chris, for your endless

support and treasured friendship.

With much love,

Rhyannon

THE BLOODRUNNERS LAW

When offspring are born of a union between human and Lycan, the resulting creations may only gain acceptance within their rightful pack by the act of Bloodrunning: the hunting and extermination of rogue Lycans who have taken a desire for human flesh. Thus they prove not only their strength, but their willingness to kill for those they will swear to protect to the death.

The League of Elders will predetermine the Bloodrunner’s required number of kills.

Once said number of kills are efficiently accomplished, only then may the Bloodrunner assume a place among their kin, complete with full rights and privileges.

Chapter 1

A bitter mountain breeze wrapped around his long frame, whipping his shaggy hair against the furrowed ridges of his brow as Jeremy Burns hiked through the Maryland forest. Like a wrathful banshee, the relentless autumn winds howled with fury, while his fellow Bloodrunner, Cian Hennessey, quietly kept pace at his side.

They’d been working their way through the woods for a good fifteen minutes now, each step taking Jeremy closer to the last place on earth that he wanted to be. His muscles were hard with tension, biceps bulging against the seams of his shirt, his skin fever-hot despite the chill of the air. Blood pumped through his veins in a powerful, heavy rhythm, his heart hammering like a drum, senses honed to a razor’s edge, sharp and precise.

And it was all because of a girl. All because of a woman.

That was the relentless, infuriating thought burning its way through his tired mind as he hiked, the silvery moonlight glinting against the ravaged limbs of the trees, making them look like gnarled monsters in the shadowed darkness. But monsters didn’t scare him. Hell, he was one of the monsters, complete with fangs and fur and a deadly appetite that could get him into trouble should he fail to exercise fierce control—which was why he always kept a white-knuckled grip on the animal side of his nature. For a Bloodrunner, losing control was never an option, but then neither was fear. And Jeremy had done a damn good job of mastering both—until it came to her .

He hated to admit it, but he was terrified by the growing knot of anticipation inside of him. The one that kept sniffing at the nighttime air, eager for a whiff of that lone, perfect fragrance that never failed to drive him out of his mind. Honeyed and womanly warm. Earthy and rich. It’d been woven into the very fabric of his soul, imprinted upon his senses like a tattoo needled into his skin. Just the thought of that mouthwatering scent made him hard and aching, not to mention irritable as hell.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” he muttered in a gritty rasp, slanting a look toward the man at his side.

“Who?” Cian pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and flicked a sharp glance toward Jeremy, his pale gray eyes shadowed beneath the thick veil of his lashes. “The Murphy witch?”

“Who else?” he grunted impatiently. Jillian Murphy was the only woman on his mind—and the Irishman damn well knew it.

Taking a long drag from his now smoldering cigarette, Cian lifted his right brow in a cynical arch. “What? I’m psychic now, as well as irresistible?”

“Trust me, I have no problem resisting you,” Jeremy quietly snarled, narrowing his eyes on the grinning bastard. Normally he enjoyed trading barbs with the Irishman, but not tonight. Tonight he was too tense, too bitter to have a sense of humor.

As if impervious to the thread of warning in his words, Cian barked a rich, husky laugh. “Aw, there it is. I knew your inner smart-ass was hiding in there somewhere, Burns. And to answer your question, yes, I think she’ll be there. Why else do you think I decided to tag along?” His white teeth flashed in a taunting smile. “I’m here for moral support, you know.”

“Moral support my ass. More like you’re here so that you can run back to the Alley with some juicy gossip for the others.” Jeremy knew his partner, Mason Dillinger, and the other Bloodrunners would be champing at the bit to hear the details of his first night back. “Face it, Hennessey. I’m on…to…you.”

The soft words trailed off as the mountain winds suddenly surged from a new direction, swelling with power. Jeremy inhaled with a sharp, deep breath, and his head immediately shot back as if he’d been clipped under the chin.

Oh, god. There it was. Like a messenger in the night, the shivering breeze carried the fertile scents of the forest…and something more. Something lush and achingly familiar. Something that goddamn belonged to him.