Free Hunter's Need by Shiloh Walker Page A

Anchorage. He’d flown into Minneapolis late and spent a miserable night in a hotel while waiting for the 10:20 flight to Anchorage.
    Unable to sleep, he’d spent the entire night thinking about Ana. When morning came, he had been frustrated, exhausted and irritated beyond all belief. Anxious to get this over with, he hadn’t dreaded climbing on the plane until he actually settled down in the seat.
    Now an hour into the flight, he was wishing for solid ground, grass under his feet and silence. Someplace where he could run, run until he’d exhausted himself.
    The first-class section of the plane might boast wider seats and abundant leg room. It might include pleasant, attentive staff and a discerning menu. But none of that was going to do a damn thing to change the fact that he hated flying. Fuck, he was already on edge because of Ana. Spending the day on a plane was the last thing he needed.
    “Drink?”
    He tore his gaze away from the seat in front of him and focused on the flight attendant. She gave him a friendly smile, flirtatious and inviting. He glanced at the cart in front of her, and decided, no. Getting on a plane wasn’t the last thing he needed.
    Getting on a plane and getting drunk was the last thing he needed.
    Despite knowing it wasn’t the wisest course of action, he debated on whether or not to get some whiskey. The burn of it might ease some of the tension inside him.
    It wouldn’t last, though. Shifters just burned through it too quick. Although he could spend the next eight hours getting drunk on the Council’s tab, anything that was going to screw with his control was something he had to avoid.
    He shook his head and focused once more on the back of the seat in front of him. Arms crossed over his chest, legs stretched out in front of him, he stared straight ahead. Straight ahead, because he didn’t want to risk catching sight of one of the windows. Damned planes. Too confining, too noisy— too fucking high in the air .
    “I don’t much like flying, either.”
    Duke didn’t bother glancing at the woman sitting next to him. If he did that, he might see the window. See out of it. See the ground way too far below.
    Not one to take a hint, the woman leaned in, pressing her breasts against his bicep as she laid a hand on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he could see her face and the mask of concern, but he could also smell her—smell her interest, not specifically in him, though. Just a fling.
    “The trick is to find something else to think about,” she said. “So you don’t worry. There’s nothing really to worry about, you know. Air travel is so much safer than car travel.”
    Safer . . . yeah, as long as they stayed in the air. He could survive a car wreck, but even a shifter wasn’t going to be able to make it if the plane suddenly went crashing down to earth.
    It didn’t really matter in his mind that it wasn’t a likely possibility.
    Didn’t matter that he’d flown hundreds of times and landed safely each time.
    He’d used to hope that serving in the army might help his problem with flying, but it hadn’t. The only thing frequent flying had done was just make damn sure he had to come face-to-face with his fear on a regular basis.
    “It’s going to be a long flight.”
    Duke cut his eyes over to the woman next to him and immediately wished he hadn’t. Beyond her artfully tousled and streaked bronzed hair, he’d seen blue sky and fat, puffy clouds. Too damned high—
    Jerking his eyes back to the front, he stared at the seat in front of him and slumped deeper in the seat.
    She glanced behind her and then slid down the thin panel, blocking the view of the window. “There. That should help.” She leaned in a little closer. The hand on his arm slid down to rest on his thigh, a few inches above his knee. With her lips only an inch from his ear, she whispered, “Why don’t we try to keep each other distracted?”
    He slanted another look in her direction. Slowly, he took a