by V L Moon
“Laziel,” he breathed barely loud enough for his own ears to pick up. Far below him, the song hiccupped to a halt. Lorenza lifted her head. Silver eyes collided with his gaze. Wind whipped around him as he held her stare. The hand on her abdomen slid up to her throat. His name drifted up to him on the air currents. She swayed and tears fell harder.
“Lorenza!” Arial’s shout preceded his mad dash to catch the female when she collapsed. Malachi ported to the courtyard.
“Mother fuck!” Arial cursed, cradling Lorenza against his body. “How the fuck did you get here?” Malachi wasn’t interested in providing answers. He stepped forward intent on taking Lorenza into his arms. Every muscle and nerve shook with anticipation and need. The need to feel the angel against him even if it was the female form had him shaking like a junkie in need of a fix.
A frantic buzzing preceded a shrill ring. Malachi almost ignored the cell. Nothing else mattered except Laziel. And then, Arial’s phone went crazy. With a curse, Malachi fished his phone free and read the text.
“They’ve sent an assassin after Tobias. I can’t control him. Need help. ASAP.” Celix’s words sent dread racing through his system.
“FUCK! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Malachi threw his phone against the brick building. It shattered and rained down on the ground. He pointed a finger in Arial’s face. “Do not fucking move her from here. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve dealt with this fucked up shit in the U.S. Be here, or so fucking help me I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Malachi turned his attention to the female in Arial’s arms. Very gently he stroked a finger across a smooth cheek. Hesitantly, he lowered his hand toward the swell of her stomach. His throat closed and his vision shrank to the mound that enveloped his child—their child. He choked on a sob of joy and pain. Sweet fuck it wasn’t a dream, but a reality. His fingers hovered, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch. So much blood on his hands, so many deaths. His fingers curled into a fist.
“Keep them safe,” he managed through the boulder lodged in his throat. With a last look upon Lorenza’s face, he ported away.
~*~*~*~
Appalachian Mountains
The wolf within him bayed impatiently; its eagerness for the fight to begin made Tobias’s skin itch with the need to change. Mentally, his wolf paced and snarled showing the length of its long, razor sharp teeth. The wolf was hungry, and the promising allure of a kill heightened its feral nature. He longed to hunt, kill and then bury his muzzle within the warm body of a fresh and bloody kill.
He should have changed already and joined his father and the rest of the pack as they waited in anticipation for the imminent arrival of their attackers. But, with each second that ticked slowly by, the knot of fear gnawing at his insides grew stronger until Tobias couldn’t focus past the sting in his eyes. He retched so hard he threatened to spew up the snarling form of his snapping wolf. Something was off about the whole situation. Tobias felt strange, off balance.
Usually, he’d be the first to change, tearing free from his human skin and reveling in the raw, untamed strength that came with being in wolf form. But, he couldn’t shake the cold threat of death coupled with dread. A low mournful howl filtered through the pack lands and echoed in tune to the next, and then the next. Each wolf took their turn in divulging their enemy’s location as the Nephilim made their expected approach. It was only with the threat on their doorstep that Tobias made the decision to shift.
Between one heartbeat and the next, Tobias’s wolf freed itself from the confines of human flesh and leaped toward his pack mates in a blur of speed and bright golden fur. The scent of his pack, their thoughts and the raw strength of their Alpha poured through his mind, connecting Tobias, linking each of his senses and uniting them as a force to be reckoned with.
They were one. As Tobias moved up to take his place, each wolf in turn took a step back and averted their gaze or lowered their heads in the knowledge that Tobias took rank as their Alpha’s son and rightful heir to their Appalachian pack. The energy surrounding them grew in volume as Tobias took the front line next to his father and lowered his own head in recognition of the Alpha’s supremacy. In turn, Jorn rubbed his muzzle along Tobias’s fur and growled.
“Keep your eyes peeled. Who knows what direction these bastards will take? Watch your back and no taking any chances. That’s an order from your Alpha, my son.” His father’s words pierced his mind, and Tobias couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at hearing them.
Since being outed by Malachi, his father had changed toward him. The once feared, steely gaze had softened. When his father looked at him, Tobias felt somewhat revered instead of unwanted and unloved.
“You were always wanted and loved. We just lost our way after Khad. That won’t be happening again.” Jorn’s words rang in his head and made Tobias’s heart swell in his chest. With a last look to Tobias, Jorn turned and set off. The pads on his huge paws pounded into the earth as a huge blonde Nephilim with enormous golden wings dropped from the sky in a halo of light.
“Celix.” Tobias sent to his pack, knowing they would hold back on any serious infliction of harm until given orders. Jorn took him down. Their bodies met and the act of war ensured. Every wolf knew the attack was an act. Jorn used his skill to gather any new information relevant to the attack. With their Alpha’s mind open to the conversation with the Nephilim, the pack was immediately aware of the fact the plans had been changed.
When more Nephilim entered the fray, the wolves tasted the scent of their unbridled fear. Tobias was by no means old, but what they were faced with shocked him to the core. They’d been warned the Nephilim were young, but this was obscene. The pack grew uneasy. They’d sensed it too. They’d fight even kill to protect their home and young, but these Nephilim sent to destroy them barley looked out of their teens. They hesitated unsure and terrified at the edge of the tree line, watching as Celix grappled with Jorn.
Energy that came with age brought Tobias’s hackles up. The rustle of wings above him put Tobias and his pack on alert. Another Nephilim had been added to the attack, one that evidently had the same regard for the wolves as their Queen. He swooped in low, using large talon like nails to snatch up one of the pack and tear into its flesh before tossing it easily into the group of young horrified Nephilim.
“Tear that mutt apart and then move. This isn’t a show and tell. Or, do you want your Queen to learn of your cowardice in the field too.” The airborne Nephilim roared, sending the young scattering toward the wolves and their imminent deaths. Two stayed behind, their eyes glued to the injured wolf that staggered on an injured leg toward the tree line. Even injured, the wolf couldn’t bring itself to attack the inexperienced Nephilim. Tobias watched as the two ran out to greet the wolf and carry it to safety within the trees. Celix had been right. They didn’t want this war.
As the fight began in earnest, Tobias took off to the left where Lance deflected the half-heart blows of three Nephilim. Loud snarls rippled through the darkening sky as each of the Nephilim were savagely knocked down by one of their own. The more powerful Nephilim beat on them mercilessly, tearing at their wings and ripping into their young unblemished flesh. Their howls of pain urged the bastard on to greater cruelty. He dropped onto the back of one and tore back his head until the neck snapped with an ear shattering crack.
Tobias saw red and lunged forward at the same time Lance attacked the more experienced Nephilim for what he’d done. Teeth tingling with the need to rip the bastard limb from limb, Tobias raced toward them at full speed. His heart pounded in his chest when the Nephilim craftily turned at great speed and used his wings to hide the sword he unsheathed from between the mounts of his blood soaked wings.
Unable to warn Lance, Tobias leaped at the Nephilim. Time slowed as he sailed toward them. Lance was strong, but unaware of the danger. He knew the trusted vampire guard was a fighter. He’d been sent at the time of the treaty signing to help train the wolves. Lance seemed to enjoy their Appalachian home. He h
ad instantly warmed toward the pack; so much so, Malachi had issued Lance an intermediary role to work with Tobias as a go between for the vampires.
The wolves accepted Lance, who wasn’t opposed to their way of life. At times, the vampire could be found sleeping safely among those that protected the pack through the night and slept through the day, or the Sole Dormire as Lance called it. Even Jorn had warmed toward the male, an uncanny turn of events considering Jorn didn’t do the warm or cuddly shit. But, there was something about Lance that just didn’t fit within the normal realm of the vampire world. For that reason alone, Tobias had to go out on a limb. He didn’t want the male to get hurt, or answer to Malachi as to why Lance had disobeyed his command to stay out of the fight.
Was the King aware of Lance’s dissimilarities compared to that of the other vampires under his rule? Was the king trying to protect Lance, and if so why? Tobias thought Malachi strange at best, partially because the motherfucker was harder than nails and had a temper that blew more frequently than old faithful, so any redeeming signs that the male may harbor a secret softer side to his malevolent persona was something of an anomaly.
Tobias felt the wind rush up against him as the Nephilim shifted and prepared to strike. Even with the advantage of vampire speed and exceptional strength on his side, Lance didn’t have time to deflect the strength behind the Nephilim’s vicious attack. The Nephilim cunningly waited for Lance to get close before using his speed against him. He struck out fast. Tobias doubted Lance saw the attack coming as the blade speared his chest. The Nephilim moved in, pushing Lance back until his body lay pinned to the earth beneath the Nephilim. The vile male placed a heavy boot to Lance’s chest. He pulled the blade free and held it aloft.
“No,” Tobias half growled, half roared as he shifted into his human form to warn Lance. He screamed at the vampire to struggle or fight, to do his best to avoid what Tobias could see was coming next. The fucking bastard Nephilim sneered as his dirty boot kicked Lance hard in the head. The sword rose above his head. Clearly, he intended to use Lance’s dazed and injured state to finish the attack and take off Lance’s head.
Tobias wished for Lance’s strength. His wolf was strong and incredibly fast, but vampires were renowned for their abilities of power and strength. The wolves saw Lance as pack and a very good friend. He couldn’t let him die, refused to allow the Nephilim bastard reap in the glory of such a merciless kill. He struck hard. Between wolf form and human, Tobias ripped into the Nephilim before the blade in his hand took Lance’s head. Tearing at the flesh of the Nephilim’s throat, Tobias spit out the taint of his murderous flesh before attacking again.
Tobias used his wolf’s sharpened claws to tear through those blood stained wings and lost himself to the beast’s nature to maim, rip, tear and feed from the flesh of his enemies. The Nephilim fought back, refusing to stay down. But, he was no match for Tobias. In full wolf form, Tobias lunged and clamped his muzzle around the Nephilim’s throat, growling fiercely as pain seared through his veins and sent his wolf into a furious rage.
Consumed by anger, Tobias released his hold on the bastard’s throat to strike again. The tearing of flesh blocked out the fight surrounding them. The hard snap of bones filled Tobias’s ears as he tore through the cavity of the Nephilim’s chest and ripped out the hot and still beating heart. Tobias tore at it mercilessly until it there was nothing left, but the crimson stain of blood that coated the fur around his mouth.
Whining, Tobias padded toward where Lance lay silent and still. He couldn’t tell if Lance was truly dead or only grievously injured. He tried to shift and failed to take his human form. Tobias whined even more as he crawled toward Lance. Too late, he realized he was also injured. Darkness seeped into the corners of his mind and clouded his vision as the earth around him began to spin. His vision faltered, and he drifted down into a bottom less pit. His world turned in against itself and threatened to consume him within a cruel battering sea of pain agony.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Thirty-Eight
~*~*~*~
Roman paced the King’s office, his eyes returning time and again to the wall clock. Malachi had disappeared nearly an hour ago with the cryptic explanation of needing to change. How fucking long did it take to change clothes? Across the room, Jaku stood at attention. By not one flicker did he show any impatience or unease. Roman envied him the icy exterior. But then, it wasn’t his mate who was the focus of a Nephilim attack.
Roman didn’t give two fucks if Malachi or Arial trusted Celix. Tobias’s life hung in the balance. He swung back to tell Jaku he was leaving with or without Malachi when the huge office doors slammed open. A very pissed off and scary Malachi Denali stomped into the room.
“Let’s go,” he barked and disappeared in a wisp of steam. Jaku went behind him faster than Roman could track. With a curse, he flung himself after the seasoned fighters.
Confusion and bedlam spread out around them when Roman and Jaku took form. Malachi materialized right in front of them and joined the fray without a single hesitation. Jaku took off after their king. Roman knew Saul’s words were ringing in the young soldier’s ears.
“Protect him at all costs. Even if it means you die.” Roman knew the king’s guards were an exemplary selection for their race. Laziel would only allow the best to protect Malachi. Until he’d heard Saul’s instructions, the full impact of their dedication and loyalty to Denali never fully registered.
A growl of pure fury throbbed through the bond with his male. Tobias! Frantic with worry for his mate, Roman blocked out the mass of grunts, blows and howls echoing around him. He focused on the bond. A strong pull to the right had him off and running in search of his wolf. All around him, young Nephilim laid bleeding and crying in misery. Wolves stalked around them in human and animal form, teeth bared and eyes glowing with fury at being attacked in their own homeland. Others still fought, the wolves protecting themselves and the Nephilim in abject fear. Where the fuck was Celix?
Roman raced through the melee, following the tug of awareness that was Tobias. Breaking through the crowd, he spotted his mate struggling against a huge Nephilim. Roman’s vision shrank to the two males. A blade flashed silver in the moonlight. Roman’s warning yell disappeared into the maelstrom around them. The wolf’s attack increased in frenzy until the Nephilim’s heart lay shredded on the ground. Relief washed through Roman until Tobias wobbled on all fours and hit the ground. The fresh scent of his blood stung Roman’s nose. His outraged scream echoed off the hills and forest.
He gave up the physical and flung himself into the ether. In the space of a heartbeat, he materialized beside Tobias’s prone form. Blood tears streamed as he carefully tugged Tobias’s heavy wolf into his arms. The air reeked of blood, and a lot of it belonged to Tobias.
A trembling hand stroked Tobias’s muzzle. He rocked back and forth, a moan of agony churning in his chest. “Tobias, Tobias, Tobias,” he crooned as he stroked Tobias’s fur. Terror took hold completely when the bond within dimmed. A howl echoed so closely, he jumped. Pain weaved into the fabric of the mournful sound. Answering howls rippled into the air.
The sounds of battle fell away. Moans from the injured interspersed with the pad of paws and the God awful howls. Tobias’s pack surrounded them. He felt their pain through his bond with Tobias. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Roman snarled clutching Tobias to him.
“Roman, he needs treatment. The pack will know what to do. He’s one of theirs,” Malachi’s stern voice broke through the pack’s laments.
“He’s mine,” Roman growled. “I know what he needs.” Before Malachi could react, Roman’s fangs ripped into his own flesh, tearing his entire forearm to ribbons. Blood gushed from the severed vein in his wrist, but Roman was ready. He shoved the entire limb, hand first, into Tobias’s open snout opening his throat. Crimson nectar flowed unrestrained from his veins into Tobias’s body.
“Motherfucking stubborn kids,” Malachi snapped. “If you kill yourself trying to save him
, he’ll die anyway.” A second hand joined the first on his shoulders. Even though he tried to hold on, he was no match for Malachi’s angel fed strength.
“Let me go,” he bellowed. “He needs blood. My blood.” He fought his king and Tobias’s father as they separated them. The bonded mate in him roared his fury into the night, but he couldn’t escape Malachi’s powerful hold on his body, or his mind. His king locked him down tighter than a strait jacket. Every muscle froze and refused his every command to fight, to move, to do something. Anything to save his wolf.
Fucking bastard king. Let me fucking go. If that were Laziel, you’d kill anyone who did this to you. The thoughts screamed in his head, but remained trapped by Malachi’s mind control. A hard cuff to the back of his head made him see stars.
“Watch your thoughts, Elder. If Laziel were here, he’d have your balls dangling from his belt for much less.” Malachi growled into his ear. Roman snarled deep in his throat. He studiously ignored Jaku who worked to staunch the flow of blood from his arm by using his own saliva.
Jorn, in human form, leaned over his son. Before their eyes, he forced Tobias to change. The fur slipped away under the skin, limbs lengthened and the massive form of the wolf shrank into the human form of the male Roman loved. The stab wound rode low on Tobias’s hip. Inexplicably, it knit itself together as the change became complete. Tobias choked and doubled up. His arms locked around his stomach and he groaned. Naked and blood spattered he curled into himself.
“Roman?” The raspy voice wrapped around Roman’s heart. Topaz eyes blinked and opened. They stared straight into Roman’s soul. Malachi’s arms loosened and Roman hit his knees next to his wolf. Frozen muscles protested the sudden movements. Unashamed, he buried his face in Tobias’s neck and wrapped the wolf in his arms.
