The Rogue King

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The Rogue King Page 11

by Abigail Owen


  Neither of them spoke, and neither seemed able to pull away. Kasia bit the corner of her lip, just the smallest flash of teeth dragging at the plump pink flesh. Brand held in a groan, even as part of him pushed to close the distance between them. He ignored that instinct.

  He could hear her heart racing, her gaze both expectant and wary. “The hell with this,” she muttered.

  Before he could react, she closed the distance between their mouths, placing the softest, sweetest kiss against his lips. Had she tried for a hot, tongue-heavy kiss, he might’ve been able to push her away.

  But this kiss…

  Hell. She called to something deep inside him.

  Mine, that voice whispered.

  But she wasn’t his. Even as she pressed up against him, she lay out of reach—tantalizing, tormenting, unattainable.

  Kasia lingered over the kiss for an agonizing second before pulling back, but only barely. Their breath mingled as Brand scrambled for the control that was swiftly slipping from his grasp as need urged him to take.

  Possess.

  How could he fight both himself and the animal nature driving him?

  “What was that for?” he grumbled. But he didn’t move away. Couldn’t.

  A small shrug of one shoulder. “Maybe I like how you taste.”

  Holy fuck. Instantly images of her tasting every other part of his body exploded into his mind, and his dick did a fantastic impersonation of an iron rod, pressing painfully against the zip of his jeans.

  “We can’t.” That’s all he could manage. That infamous control of his was threadbare and ready to snap.

  Kasia tipped her head, and her long hair brushed against his forearm. Her hot, glittering gaze lowered to his mouth. “You don’t want to? Or you can’t? There’s a difference.”

  Brand sucked in a breath to answer her, then froze as another scent—both foreign and familiar—filtered through his senses.

  Dammit. How could he have been so dumb? “Get out the car. Now!”

  Before she could react, he shoved his door open and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her across the seat and out behind him.

  Fuck. Not again. He just couldn’t get a break with this shit.

  “What is it?” she asked as he moved to the back.

  “Wolf shifters,” he ground through clenched teeth. “Same ones as before.”

  With fingers usually nimble, even in a fight, he wasted precious seconds fiddling with the lock to the trunk. Finally, he got it open. He flipped open his handgun case, checked the mag, loaded a round in the chamber, and handed it to her. “Clear off. I’ll hold them here.”

  “What? No—”

  “You’re not bait this time. I am. You can’t be caught. That’s what’s important here. Got it? I’ll try to follow, so don’t shoot me.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

  She opened her mouth, but before she could argue, he pointed her in a direction away from the scent strongly invading his nose. “Run.”

  To her credit, though her face had paled, Kasia didn’t ask any more questions, refuse to leave him, or go into hysterics. If anything, she steadied, her gaze clear and intent.

  “Don’t get killed,” she offered. Then she turned in the direction he pointed and took off at a dead sprint.

  Brand didn’t follow, no matter that every atom in his being screamed at him to not let her out of his sight. However, the scent of wolf shifter—which to a dragon shifter comprised an unpleasant combo of rotting goat and dog breath—had grown so strong he was choking on it, which meant the wolf shifters were too close. Brand wouldn’t have time to shift, and he needed to give her time to get away by keeping their focus on him.

  He turned to grab another gun, but he’d taken too long getting her away. A massive rust-colored wolf with a white streak of fur over one eye shot out from the trees, jaws ready to snap around Brand’s jugular and rip it out.

  Brand got his arm up in time to take the brunt of the attack. Razor-sharp teeth sliced through flesh and blood. Brand let out a hiss of pain, pretty damn sure the thing struck bone.

  Putting the extra strength that came with his dragon behind the move, Brand spun with the momentum of the wolf and flung his arm. The wolf released his grip, soared through the air, and slammed into a tree with a yelp.

  But Brand didn’t look to see if the thing limped away or not. A low growl had him focused on another wolf, this one pale gray, standing fifteen feet away, hackles raised and teeth bared in a near-silent snarl.

  Blood dripped down Brand’s wrist over his fisted hand in warm rivulets, the metallic scent thick on the breeze. The wolf in front of him twitched its nose, but it didn’t move, holding its place. Why was it waiting?

  “I don’t have all fucking day,” Brand sneered.

  Sure that the two wolves couldn’t be alone, he needed to draw out the others before they could circle him and coordinate a pack attack, or worse, go after Kasia.

  Brand dropped into a forward roll, grabbing a knife from where it lay hidden in the ankle of his boot in a smooth, practiced motion. As he came up, he used the thrust of his forward trajectory to hurl the knife at the wolf. He didn’t wait to see if his aim was true, pivoting immediately to face another mutt who charged at him from the right.

  As the animal leaped for him, Brand whipped out his long tail and caught the creature midair. He hurled it away, slingshot style.

  But he fucked up. He knew it the second a screaming pain ignited in his calf. He went down on one knee with another dark brown wolf ripping at his leg, snarling sounds spewing from it as it tore into him. Only Brand’s thick jeans and boots kept it from doing worse damage.

  Using his good leg, he smashed the heel of his steel-toed boot into the snout of the wolf gnawing at his leg with rabid intent. He had the satisfaction of seeing blood gush from the animal’s nose as it dropped to the ground, out cold.

  He needed to shift, to turn these bastards to ash, but he didn’t have time.

  Before he could get up, another mutt came at him from the back, going for his neck. Brand managed to evade the deadly jaws and drove his elbow back into the wolf’s soft underbelly. It backed off with a hacking cough.

  With one of the five wolves he knew of out of commission, the others, including the two injured ones, backed off to regroup, and Brand took advantage of their hesitation, running for the car as fast as dragging one bloody pulp of a leg allowed. If he could get to the shotgun in his trunk, that’d help him keep the shifters at bay. In their wolf forms, they couldn’t operate weapons.

  Brand didn’t make it.

  The dark gray wolf must’ve guessed his intention, as it busted out from behind a tree on the opposite side. The animal beat him to the car and jumped, landing on the trunk lid and closing it with a doom-filled click.

  Fuckwad.

  Brand skidded to a halt ten feet away, but a crunch of pine needles told him he was out of time, with more wolves behind him. He spun and charged the two wolves at his back, wrapping up the rust-colored one—who’d apparently survived being thrown into that tree—in a bear hug and driving it backward until it finally lost its footing and fell. He let it flop to the ground, landing on its back. Brand brought his boot down on the animal’s hind leg with a satisfying crunch, and the thing howled in pain as the bone snapped.

  Kasia’d told him to take out the red wolf. Fucking check that off the list.

  Brand spun around, taking stock of his surroundings, but only the dark gray wolf remained in view. Where the hell are the others?

  With no time to gloat over his minor victory, Brand faced off against the one wolf in sight and stopped cold, fear crawling up his spine at the sight behind his attacker. Every muscle tensed, and the instinct to protect shuddered through him, igniting the fire in his gut.

  Kasia stood at the trunk of the car, fiddling with the lock.

  Fuck.r />
  With brutal effort, he forced his gaze back to the wolf, not wanting to alert it to her presence. She was supposed to be running, not helping him. And where were the other two wolves?

  Fisting his hands, he took an aggressive stance, determined to keep the wolf focused on him. “You’re not getting your hands on her.”

  The beast snorted. “You’re outnumbered, rogue.”

  Brand showed no surprise that the wolf chose to speak to him through that mental link shifters all claimed when in their animal forms. Wolves usually chose to use that to coordinate their pack attacks, not to address their enemy. He didn’t miss that rogue comment, either. Thanks to the lack of a brand on his hand, the wolves knew he was on his own rather than waiting for his clan to show up and help. He needed to get in the air. Now.

  The telltale shunk-shunk of a shotgun being cocked, followed by another click as the safety was turned off, had the wolf swinging around, snarling and snapping.

  Brand grinned. By her stance, feet set and the stock of the gun firmly in place at her shoulder, Kasia knew her way around the weapon. Damned if that woman wielding a gun to defend him wasn’t sexy as hell.

  Her gaze remained hard and steady on the animal standing between them. “If you don’t want to die, I suggest you and your friends clear out. Now.”

  The wolf tensed, but not as though it were about to leap. Instead, it closed its mouth and cocked its head. Confused?

  At the same time, the two missing wolves materialized from the woods. The light gray wolf, younger than the others now that Brand got a better look at him, though not juvenile, went to check its downed companion with the broken leg. The black wolf took up position beside their leader. There was no doubt in Brand’s mind the dark gray wolf with white around his muzzle and eyes was the leader, not with the way all the others seemed to be taking their cues from him. While the black wolf’s posturing remained aggressive—head lowered, muscles tensed and ready to leap, yellow eyes glaring—the dark gray wolf lifted his head and pricked his ears.

  Brand, mid-process of creeping around them to reach Kasia’s side, stopped and watched more closely. After a second, Kasia’s eyes widened, and the barrel of the gun dropped a hair, just slightly, but enough that Brand caught it.

  The wolf was talking to her with that telepathic link. What was it saying?

  She shook her head no. Paused. Did it again. Another pause. “Then you know why I can’t.”

  What the fuck did that mean? Can’t what?

  Another long moment, she readjusted her aim, raised the muzzle, and narrowed her gaze. “Like I said, if you don’t want a round to the chest, leave.”

  The wolf’s posture went defensive, the fur on his back raising and his fangs making another appearance. It turned its head to glare at Brand. “This isn’t over.”

  Brand matched the creature glare for glare. “Didn’t think it was.”

  Rather than shift into their more vulnerable human forms, the wolves dragged their injured partner off by the scruff at the back of his rust-colored neck. The brown wolf he’d knocked out, they managed to revive, though his gait reminded Brand of a drunk doing his best to walk straight and failing.

  Brand kept his gaze trained in the direction they disappeared, listening and scenting the air until he was sure they were gone. He stayed still, his injuries throbbing and needing to put on a calm front for Kasia, dictating that he had to hold still when what he wanted to do was stalk back and forth. Agitation poked at him like an itch that wouldn’t quit.

  Wolves didn’t give up that easily. No way would five of them, even with two injured, have been that intimidated by a shotgun. So what the hell was going on?

  Finally satisfied that they were alone, Brand turned to find an off-color and shaking Kasia staring off into the woods after the wolves, gun lowered but gripped in white hands. He tamped down on the rumble of concern trying to escape up his throat.

  Ignoring the shafts of pain in his leg, he approached her slowly, like he would a wild animal, not wanting to spook her. “All right?”

  Thankfully, she gave him a wan smile. “Now is probably a good time to tell you I’m a piss-poor shot.”

  “He was fifteen feet away. I think you could’ve hit him.”

  She huffed a laugh. “Maybe, but there was no way I could’ve held off all three. I’m great with mechanics, I even have a degree, but never did do well with weapons.”

  Gently, he retrieved the gun from her grasp. She gave it up almost as though she didn’t notice. He pushed the safety and put the gun back in the trunk. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to dole out hugs.

  “Can you fly?”

  “Fly?” she repeated, a little too automaton for him.

  He hooked his functioning hand around the back of her neck, his bloody arm still aching, and pulled her close, so he could look into her eyes, take up her total focus. “I need you here with me, ready to roll. Can you do that?”

  Somehow, just touching her calmed the burning fury inside him, bringing him…not peace exactly…more a quiet stillness. How did she do that?

  Kasia took a deep breath. Then another. Then nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Good girl.”

  Kasia rolled her eyes at his patronizing words, and Brand relaxed, knowing she was with him. He had his doubts that her bad aim was what had shaken her so badly, but no other explanation presented itself. Except that odd conversation with the lead wolf that he caught only her half of, and that wasn’t much.

  He’d ask her later. Right now, he had to get her out of here. He’d almost lost her today. Twice in less than an hour.

  “Let’s go,” he urged.

  VI

  Angelika fidgeted, kicking up the rocks along the mostly dry stream bed where she waited. Mud coated the bottom of her white tennis shoes, probably ruined now. Not her best attire-related decision, but then again, she hadn’t expected to come along. Especially when all the pack did was keep her far from the action, far from her sister.

  What was the point of bringing her, anyway? She couldn’t even help them if she wanted to, since she’d inherited no powers upon her mother’s death. No, Angelika had remained annoyingly, frailly human. Had everything gone to Kasia? It would make sense, since Kasia was the oldest.

  Sure, they needed her to identify Kasia, but she could do that when they brought her sister to their home. Not that she would’ve waited there with any less worry.

  Jedd, whom she’d dubbed her personal bodyguard when he’d seemed to assign himself that role over the last year, stood off to the side in a position where he could watch her closely and wait for the others to return.

  He stood tall, broad shoulders back like a soldier at attention, all senses tuned to their surroundings, ready for anything. His Spanish ancestry showed through in swarthy skin, dark hair and eyes, and the aura of a warrior. Even his hair screamed “no funny business,” cut military close, a tad longer on top. She teased him by saying the way it stood straight up made him look like a fuzzy teddy bear that needed a cuddle.

  He should be with them.

  As the most skilled fighter, they needed him. Especially given what they were up against. She’d tried to make him go, but he’d insisted on staying with her. Guilt snuck in under the fear and worry for her sister. She didn’t want any of the wolves who’d taken such good care of her dying or being injured protecting her and her sister.

  Angelika tossed a rock at the slowly meandering water a few feet away, but the plop was unsatisfying.

  “Where are they?” she muttered.

  “Worry never solved anything,” Jedd threw over his shoulder, not turning his gaze away from the woods.

  Angelika lobbed another stone at him and snickered when she inadvertently struck her mark, the rock thudding as it struck the middle of his back.

  Jedd still didn’t turn. “N
ot funny.”

  Deliberately, Angelika lowered her voice. “Worry never solved anything,” she huffed in her best well-meaning, but slightly superior Jedd impersonation.

  He merely shook his head, though she suspected his shoulders shook with a silent chuckle.

  “You know telling someone not to worry is like telling the sun not to shine, don’t you?” she prodded. “It’s just going to keep shining anyway, because that’s what it does.”

  “You’re saying that worry is your main function in life?” Heavy skepticism laced his naturally gruff tones.

  “After five hundred years of running and preparing for the worst?” Another rock made a ploop as it dropped into the stream. “Yeah. I’d say that’s a good way to put it.”

  Jedd opened his mouth and started to turn her way but stopped and returned his total focus to the woods beyond. “They’re coming.”

  Before she could ask any questions, he lifted his head to sniff the air, then took off at a sprint, leaving her by the stream. A useless bystander, yet again.

  Silence descended over the surrounding woods. The animals, insects, and breeze all stopping at once. Even the stream didn’t make any noise, as the water moved so slowly. Angelika jumped to her feet and waited, eyes anxiously scanning the trees.

  After what felt like an interminable wait, finally six men, including Jedd, appeared from the direction he’d run off. She desperately searched the woods behind them, but no one else appeared, and Angelika’s heart dropped to the soles of her feet.

  Then she absorbed the rest of the scene. Hunter and Rigel appeared unharmed. Cairn supported a nasty-looking broken nose with blood covering his front. But the more urgent issue was Rafe.

  Jedd and Bleidd supported the stocky scrapper between them. He held his leg up, his face contorted in pain. Even from this distance, she could see that it didn’t hang quite right.

  Shit.

  Someone had been seriously injured trying to rescue her sister. Angelika would never be able to repay these wolf shifters for their kindness at the rate she was going.

 

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