Addictive (Hellish Mates #1)

Prologue

Gun leaned against a tree by the edge of the woods where, just a couple feet away, a large highway softly rumbled. His dark vehicle was hidden in plain sight and the few cars passing by took no notice. It was almost four in the morning, nearly an hour past the scheduled meeting time. If she didn't appear in the next ten minutes, he could only assume he rightfully scared her away.

Rina Crawford, a werewolf halfling like Gun, had been curious about his sporadic visits to her werewolf pack ever since she first learned how to speak. When she discovered that he and his fellow Hellions had saved her pack in the past, she began to idolize Gun and the association he belonged to—the Hellions of Alastar. The first time he revisited the pack, he intended it to also be the last, simply wanting to confirm they were doing well.

However, Gun found himself coming back. He couldn't help being interested in Rina. She was a halfling, but she received no descrimination from her pack. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother and father. They were a peculiar pair, but were also respected.

Neither showed their emotions openly, yet somehow, they birthed and raised a girl like Rina. She loudly laughed, she loudly cried, and she loudly transitioned from one to the other. The Crawfords welcomed him to visit often—especially when it became obvious Rina had grown an attachment to him. She called him Uncle Gun and never tired of his tales. He felt as if he had truly gained a niece. While she had given him a moment of peace, he had unknowingly corrupted her mind.

What started out as innocent questions about his work soon turned into inquiries of how he became a Hellion and then how to become one if someone wished to do so. The moment he discovered her interest, Gun shot it down. Not only was Rina considered "collared"—a demeaning term used on werewolves who had grown docile from blending amongst human society—but she was also still young.

Just twenty years old. Her whole immortal life was waiting ahead. Becoming a Hellion meant throwing that away. No matter how many times he told her she was looking at a future of nothing but bleak death, Rina never faltered in her resolve. She wanted to become a Hellion, even if it meant losing her life and loved ones.

A month ago, Gun revealed his reality. He told her of the details he never told her before. He described the feeling of piercing his claws into a still beating heart and ripping it from its body. He retold the torture methods used on a werewolf who refused to give up his rogue pack that had gone on a human murdering spree. He reminisced about the time he arrived too late to a scene in which a vampiress feasted upon her mate, for her madness had made her crave more than just blood, but also flesh.

After all of that and more, Gun told Rina if she still wished to join their ranks and see the horrors of what it meant to be a Hellion of Alastar, then he would take her in. Exactly a month from that day and late into the night, he would be waiting for her. That night was now. Whether she showed or not, Gun would accept her answer.

Though he wanted to never give her the chance, his leader, Alastar himself, had told Gun to offer her the opportunity. He sometimes wondered if Alastar was driven by madness—to even entertain the thought of accepting a young pup like Rina, who had no experience with battle, no less with war—but that question had been answered long ago.

Yes. Alastar was mad. And so were all his Hellions.

Gun glanced at his watch and saw that ten minutes had passed. He pushed himself off the tree and made his way to his vehicle. Just as he opened the door, he felt a shift in the air. Deep within the woods, he heard a set of footsteps. With the car door still open, he leaned against the vehicle and crossed his arms, waiting. A few seconds later, a young woman emerged through the shadows.

Rina.

She had a small duffel bag slung over her shoulder and wore a grin on her face.

"You're late," he remarked.

"Sorry, Uncle Gun," she laughed. "Trent was on my trail. I didn't want him to know where our meeting point was."

Trent—Rina's younger brother by two years and the second oldest Crawford child. When Rina had made her intentions known to her family, none of them supported her. Though they felt grateful to Gun and the Hellions of Alastar, they did not want Rina to throw her life away when she could live comfortably. Trent was especially vehement. Gun knew it was simply because he wanted to protect her.

After all, Rina wasn't the only halfling in her pack, she was also the only halfling within her family. Her mother successfully went through the transformation and became a full-blooded werewolf by the time Trent was conceived. As the one closest in age to her, Trent made it his responsibility to watch over Rina. However, one thing Gun noticed was that Rina often cared naught for others and did what she wanted, whether she had approval or not.

Was she a risk-taker or was she simply being rebellious? It was a dangerous question to answer while on the path of becoming a Hellion.

"Are you not afraid he will inform your parents?" Gun asked.

She shrugged. "It'll be too late by the time they figure out anyway. Should we go?"

And there it was—her resolve that never faltered. She would either go far with that mentality, or end up dead at the hands of her own ambition.

Gun motioned to the other side of his car and Rina grinned before she entered the door by the passenger seat. He turned his head towards the woods where she came from and closed his eyes. Behind the rumble of the highway, the flow of the wind, the sway of the trees, he heard the faint roar of a werewolf. It sounded of sorrow.

Sorrow, for the sister who had willingly jumped into the pits of hell.

It was too late to feel guilt now.

Gun entered his car, and together with a new sacrifice to the Hellions, drove to their stronghold.