Enforcer Mine (The Shadow Hunters #3)

1 Twisted Hearts

One year before the Blue Cave Pack members joined the Shadow Hunters Pack

I often wondered, if I'd been born in a different family, would they have kept me?

I'd lived with my foster parents for a short time before they died. Those years had been a dream. They were the only mama and dada I knew, even if they weren't connected to me by blood.

However, sometimes, I thought about my birth parents.

Why'd they give me up and shove me into an orphanage when I'd been too young to defend myself?

It was a heavy evaluation. I wasn't the type to ruminate on things like this but tonight, I was feeling oddly melancholic. Maybe it was the cool temperatures. My fingers were in danger of becoming stiff from the cold but I did my best to retain heat in my palms as I rubbed them together. The friction generated some warmth. I blew into my hands, hoping my breath could heat up my skin.

From my peripheral, something shifted to my right.

My boots came to a slow stop, biting down against the cluster of dried leaves beneath the rubber soles.

I lifted my chin, aware of the crisp breeze. My skin prickled from the frosty touch.

I was well aware I was treading too close to the Shadow Hunters' Territory but this was the quickest path home. I didn't want to reroute and take another path that would take twice as long to arrive at the same destination. That was absurd. This was the most efficient way home with less obstacles.

Deep, copper eyes flashed in the dark.

I tensed and turned to face the predator. A sane person would already be running in the opposite direction.

I was too tired to bother. I'd been running the whole day, completing errands.

Leaden silence soaked the air.

The figure slowly approached me until shimmering moonbeams speared through the dark, framing his sharp cheekbones in the silver light and slashing across his wide shoulders.

Eerie. It was the only word that thrummed in my mind.

At first, I'd assumed the shadows hid the rest of him away but then I noted the outline of his black, combat suit with the golden letters glinting from the reflection of the moonlight.

This man was an Elite Syndicate Enforcer.

One of Jude Slater's men.

"State your name." The man drawled.

I blinked, brushing my finger against the charm along my wrist. The metal soothed me in a way that was unexplainable. I took a breath and watched the man. He didn't move a muscle. He remained so still, I was slightly afraid that maybe I'd willed him into existence from a distance part of my imagination.

I shook my head, rather than give him my name.

I was in my disguise, having donned a baggy hoodie and a pair of loose track pants that obscured my Vans-clad feet. A red and blue bandana covered the lower half of my face. I knew he could only see my eyes, which were almost indecipherable in colour among the dark yet I knew the man could clearly see me. It was just a hunch. There was something almost sinister about this stranger.

"State your name." He repeated, less patient this time round.

I shook my head again and began to move forward, hoping he'd just leave me alone so I could go on my merry way. I wasn't in the mood to be talking to strangers, especially strangers like him in the dark.

The man was swift as he moved in a blur of rapid but smooth movements. Before I could blink, he'd already appeared in front of me, fisting my bandana into his palm and ripping it off my face. Cool air caressed my face. His other hand threw my hood back until my hair unspooled to my hips in untamed, golden locks. I snarled, glaring up at the man. He'd just insulted my personal space. "You didn't have my permission to do that." I gritted through clenched teeth, balling my fists. "Return my things to me you asshole."