Lost and Found (A Werewolf Wars Novel Book 4)

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Bethany Shaw

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

About the Author

Also By Bethany Shaw

N
ew Mexico

“Sarah? Sarah?” Vincent called.

Sarah gritted her teeth, shoving the last clip into her rifle. Anger clouded her vision as she fired at the men of the Gulf pack. They’d taken Preston from her, killed Rick, attempted to abduct Lark, and kidnapped her. No one would be safe until they were all dead.

Their enemy’s home was burning; flames and smoke billowed from the housing complex. Some fiery debris had fallen in the grass, causing the flames to creep toward the main manor.
This was it.
They could finish Luna’s clan off.

“Sarah!” A hand clamped down on her shoulder and she felt another go around her waist. “We need to go!” Vincent demanded.

Sarah jammed her elbow backwards. “Get off,” she hissed, firing another shot at the advancing wolves. She needed to finish this, no matter the consequences.

“They’re closing in on us, Sarah. You can’t hold them back. We have to go now,” Vincent insisted, pulling her firmly against him.

“Yes...I...can!”

Sarah squeezed the trigger again. The rifle popped; one of the wolves stalking toward her slumped to the ground. Aiming again, she readied to fire. 

Then, a group of men hollered and ran for the tree line away from her and Vincent.

“Sarah,” Vincent’s voice rose with trepidation. Without stating it or waiting for her permission, he lifted her off the ground, dragging her backwards.

“Let go!” she snarled as she tried to aim her gun.

Between Vincent jostling her as he ran and the wolves scampering away, she couldn’t get off a clear shot, yet she fired in rapid succession at their retreating forms, and then quickly surveyed the area for more wolves.

Her breath caught as she saw what the men were running from—orange flames licked their way across the bulky, white propane tank.

Still in Vincent’s arms as he tugged her back, Sarah screamed as fire shot out from the tank in a large cloud. As a loud boom echoed through the air, Vincent’s feet lifted off the ground, propelling them both backwards. Heat singed her skin and sweat beaded on her brow as the inferno blasted toward them.

As they landed on the ground, Vincent fell on top of her, pressing her into the cool, muddy ground. Sarah’s ears rang and she gasped to catch her breath, but the murky smoke filling the air made breathing difficult. Horrific screams sounded near her, followed by a man running across the yard, his body engulfed in flames.

“Get up,” Vincent choked out, pulling her to her feet.

The fire had spread to the leaves of the trees and was quickly moving towards them. Fear gripped her as the blaze began to spread.

She stumbled back, but Vincent righted her.

“We have to run, Sarah.”

Nodding, she took off beside him at a rapid pace. Her heart pounded frantically as she sprinted through the woods. Voices sounded to their left so Vincent quickly redirected down a different path. Sarah’s lungs burned as she wheezed from their sprint. The trees parted ahead and she saw the blacktop. Surging forward, she stumbled up the small hill and onto the road.

“The van is this way,” Vincent reassured, wrapping an arm around her as he continued forward.

They raced down the pavement, the soles of their shoes loudly clapping upon the blacktop. As they rounded a corner, Sarah could barely make out the van as it whirled around a bend.

“Lark!” she screamed desperately. They were leaving without them.
God, no, Lark. I’m right here. I’m safe. Please don’t leave.
She had to get to her sister, assure Lark she was okay. Lark was her only family and her sister would be devastated if she thought she was gone.   Sarah knew she had to catch up to that van. Her head spun as she forced her tired, aching body to move. As she and Vincent finally reached the bend in the road, the van was long gone.

Pressure filled her lungs as she stared at the empty road. “They’re...gone,” she gasped. Sarah collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily as she tried to calm her breath. With a groan, she clutched her throbbing side and looked up at her companion. “Why would they leave without us?”

Vincent stood silently for a long moment, his eyes fixated on the empty road ahead. “I don’t know. I’m sure they had a good reason.” Blinking, he shoved his hands into his pocket and yanked out his cell phone; a large crack ran down the screen. He jammed his finger down over the button, attempting to turn it on, but the screen remained blank.

“Shit,” he growled, throwing his phone against the blacktop. It smashed into pieces and scattered across the road.

Sarah’s heart sank—they were stuck. Her phone was still in the van; Lark had been the only one to take a phone in case the Lunas became suspicious. There was no way for them to contact anyone. They were trapped—hundreds of miles from home.

Vincent’s warm hand grasped her elbow lightly and then pulled her up towards him. “It’s going to be okay,” he encouraged.

Sarah sucked in shallow breaths as her body shook. She met his emerald eyes and saw the look of determination they held. His hands reached up, cupping her cheeks.

“We’re going to be okay, Sarah. We have to run while the fire distracts them. We need to put as much distance between us and them while we can.”

Sarah nodded, holding onto his forearms for support.

“How many bullets do you have left?” he asked, looking down at the gun slung around her chest.

“It’s empty. I used the last bullet just before the explosion,” she swallowed.

Her eyes misted as she took the gun off and dropped the useless weapon on the street. They had a long and tedious trek ahead of them; the extra weight would only slow her down.

“All right. Come on, we need to move,” Vincent said, trailing his fingers down her arms until he reached her trembling hand. Interlocking his fingers with hers, he gave a reassuring squeeze before leading her across the street and back into the trees.

S
arah stumbled over a rock, falling to her knees on the abrasive ground. The tumble jarred her burning thighs sending pain shooting through her knee and down to her toes, causing her vision to blur. A part of her wanted to give up, to let her enemies capture and kill her. The other part knew she had to fight to avenge Preston and Rick, and make it back home to Lark.

Her body was numb and tingly and, though her limbs still moved, they were weighted and rubbery. Quitting seemed like an easy option, but she couldn’t, nor would she.

Preston died to protect her and she wouldn’t diminish that by giving up when the going got tough. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself up from the ground. A sob tore through her throat as her right elbow gave out and she collapsed back to the ground.

Hunger gnawed at her stomach and fatigue had set in so long ago, she couldn’t even think straight. They’d been running for two days non-stop. Every time they attempted to stop for rest, Luna’s men caught up to them; on several occasions, they just barely evaded their pursuers. It was a miracle they escaped the Lunas to begin with. If the propane tank did not explode, who knows what would have happened to them. She shuddered at the thought. If they were caught, she’d be a prisoner and more than likely be raped and beaten repeatedly. And worse, Vincent would be killed.

Despite her fatigue and injuries, Sarah knew she had to get up and keep moving. Her skin was still singed and red from the heat of the blast. They were barely far enough away from the blast to avoid serious injuries.

“Sarah!” Vincent called after her as he jogged back to her.

His warm hand wrapped around her torso, as his fingers curled into one of her belt loops. Hoisting her up, he warned, “Sarah, we have to keep moving. They are
right
behind us.”

Sarah forced her gelatin-like feet to continue forward. Luckily, Vincent supported most of her weight as they moved across the uneven forest terrain.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she croaked out. Her lips were dry and cracked from dehydration and her whole body shook uncontrollably from exertion. Howls echoed off the forest wall—the wolves were getting closer. Even if her body refused to move, she had to find a way to carry on.

“You can,” Vincent urged. He draped one of her arms around his shoulders, supporting even more of her weight.

Come on feet don’t fail me now. We have to keep moving and Vincent can’t carry me
. He couldn’t go much longer, especially if he was carrying most of her weight, too.

“You should shift into a wolf and run; I’m slowing you down. There’s no point in us both getting caught. You can go for help,” she argued breathlessly.

As they ran through a thicket, her foot caught in a vine and she pitched forward. Vincent yanked her up by her belt loop, helping to right her.

He gave her a grim look and shook his head. “I can’t. I’m too weak. It’s been too long since I last ate or slept. Wolves eat a lot to ensure a safe shift. The amount of calories we burn during the transition is astronomical. It would be dangerous for me to shift now. Plus, I’m not even sure I could.”

“Oh,” Sarah murmured.

“We’ve made it this far, we just have to keep moving,” he encouraged.

Sarah looked around at their surroundings. Maybe if she set tiny goals for herself it would keep her distracted and motivated, she mused. There was a fallen tree a few hundred feet ahead on her right.
One step at a time—just to the tree. You can do this,
she thought, trying to convince herself.

But with her mind so focused on the task at hand, she didn’t notice what was right in front of her.  The ground sloped below them and, before either of them could find their footing, they were tumbling.

Sarah screamed as her feet flew out from under her. Her right arm hit the ground hard and her body slid uncontrollably down the hill. Jagged stones embossed her skin while splintered branches jumped out at her, scratching and clawing at her face and hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vincent just ahead of her; his face was contorted in pain as they continued their rapid descent down the embankment.

Sarah screamed as she was launched forward; she jutted out her arms to brace herself as she met the unforgiving ground. She groaned as a sharp pain ripped through her body. Black clouded her vision as something cool splashed against her face, causing her eyes to widen. She choked, gasping for air as water filled her lungs. Pushing up on her hands, she surveyed their setting; she was in a rapidly moving stream. Her hands sunk into the mud and she lay in a puddle of murky water.

“Sarah,” Vincent groaned as he army-crawled toward her, his face strained with every movement.

“I’m okay,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she drew in deep breaths in an attempt to control her frantic breathing.

“Come on, you have to get up.” Vincent looked down at the rapids swirling downstream. He stared at the water a long moment before his eyes snapped to hers. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure if it will work.”