by T. A. Grey
"You think you can ignore me?" A brutal, harsh laugh lashed over her. "I don't think so. Jenner, bring me the table." A servant in the corner of the room bowed and quickly exited, then brought back a metal tray table that looked like it belonged in a hospital.
Alison stared at the ceiling seeing Sarina happy and kissing her mate on her wedding day. The image faltered at the hiss of metal sliding against metal. Cold fear had her sweating. She chanced a look down and saw the table. It took everything in her not to gasp at the line of knives, and at the end, a hatchet.
He didn't miss her fearful gaze. "So you finally see what I've been working on, love? You know, I let you go two years ago. I know you think you escaped, and you did, but if I had wanted you back then I'd have gotten you. Even your father's pathetic threat couldn't have stopped me."
Alison stared forward, her heart once again racing too fast in her chest. She wanted to run. Her body was screaming at her to do something.
"I contented myself at the time with punishing Gerald."
Her stomach dropped out from her. Not the man who helped her! She finally turned her face away, her vision blurring with tears.
"Of course he didn't come back after his little...affair with you. I had him tracked by my best sentry. Years of tracking experience, you see." A soft hand cupped her breast and she flinched. He squeezed and tugged the flesh. Her skin crawled like a million centipedes walked over her.
"I killed him so slowly, so thoroughly, it satisfied me for quite some time. Then I relegated myself to pretending you never betrayed me." He laughed suddenly, the sound loud and mocking. "Then King Brunes came to me with a little offer. A bride with an extravagant dowry. And to top that all off, just who happens to be Sarina's best friend? Alison Bennson. It couldn't have been more perfect. Money, a biddable wife, and her closest friend my runaway female." His hand curved around her throat.
Alison gagged with a mixture of disgust and hate.
"She never would have been biddable, and she never would have married you." She glared into his cold eyes.
"Well you're right about one thing. She married that disgusting dog. Not even a Pride member, but her reaction isn't unexpected. After all, when a man's an Alpha the females are more than ready to drop their panties and spread before them. Did you fuck him, Ali?" His hand squeezed her chin until hot blood pulled there in his vicious grip.
"Fuck you!" It hurt, but she jerked her head out of his tight grasp. Her skin throbbed with pain.
He only smirked down at her. "I plan on it. Later. I saw you noticed my special tray here. I decided to try something new seeing as you’re my honored guest tonight. I had each of these weapons, oh I mean tools, made specifically for you. See, they're made with pure silver."
Suddenly she laughed, a real, belly laugh. He stilled like a cobra ready to strike. "Oh my god. I just realized something. This is all because you can't take being dumped. God, you are pathetic!"
It was probably the wrong thing to say. Even after he plunged a knife into her thigh, burning his own hand in the process, she laughed.
* * *
Slices and cuts peppered her skin. The coppery smell of blood mixed with her vanilla scent turning it into a vile concoction.
Her torso and thighs looked like someone had splattered lines of red paint over her. Her sense of time seemed to be suspended. The cuts hurt, each dip into her a hot burn that seared through her with biting pain. But after about a dozen or so, she found she could focus back on her happy thoughts.
She retracted her mind from the present, from the monster sweating above her with a scalpel. He dug in particularly deep in her side and she gasped, unable to hide it. She could practically feel his excitement...could smell his arousal.
A foggy mumbling registered in her brain. The monster was talking.
"Did you like my letters I sent you?"
Numb silence except for the hiss of her skin splintering.
She shouldn't, but the question burned inside her. "Why did you do it? Why did you jerk off on my bed?" She looked at him, fury shaping her features.
He actually looked away, red tinting his cheeks. Then it was gone and he was grinning, a bold hand cupped her sex. "What can I say? I'm a man baby. I came over to see what you were up to. Then I saw those tussled bed sheets and realized just how much I missed you. You always did have such a sweet little body, Ali. You used to hold me so tight when I fucked you."
She nearly spit at him. Would have if her throat didn’t hurt didn’t feel like her tonsils had been ripped out. "I never came. Not much of a man you are, Conlin. More like a pathetic excuse for a child. Humans can fuck better than you can. I laid with you because I cared for you, not out of pleasure."
She pulled back at the rage that contorted his features. His hands were white fists, his shoulders tightly bunched muscle. He shifted then his fist plowed into her face. He didn't stop, either. She lost count at twelve.
Tightening her will, she imagined Rome coming to her rescue. Maybe someone would find out she was gone. Perhaps Sarina called her and got worried when she didn't answer. Perhaps, Rome would sweep in like a furious lykaen mate, ready to fight to protect his woman. Even as his knife struck her, her heart panged. She wanted to be his so badly. If she made it away from Conlin she wouldn't let her fears keep her from having what she wanted.
Wow, great time to decide that.
Chapter 15
Rome waited outside of the mansion. Nighttime was creeping in, the sun going down and casting the world into oranges and pinks. The team gathered around him. Their pace made snails look fast.
He couldn't stop the growl that came out of his throat, or the power of his beast rushing through him. He was stronger in this form and thirsted for blood. Conlin's blood. He would tear the man's throat out with his teeth.
The Alpha's order was the only thing keeping him in place, keeping him from ripping through the house and tearing anyone who so much as crossed his path into pieces. Vane and his siblings looked like they were going to war wearing guns, knives, and Kevlar vests.
Jacks pushed a vest into his chest. He growled menacingly at his once friend. The man's jaw tightened. He looked contrite, ashamed, but that didn't matter. They'd taken his woman and Jacks could have helped.
Unable to control his able, he needed to lash out at something—anything.
"What were you doing when I called you?"
Jacks glared back at his friend, his jaw clenching from side to side. "You have your problems and I have mind. Let's just leave it at that."
"I have a problem because you weren't here doing your job."
"Maybe you should have been guarding your woman when you knew Conlin was after her instead of going to work like it was a normal fucking Monday."
Rome's fist shot out and caught Jack's jaw. The human stumbled back a step but righted himself. On most people that hit would have sent him flying ten feet. Jacks always did have a jaw of steal.
"I'll let you have that free one because I fucked up. You know how I feel about making mistakes."
Rome breathed deeply, taking calming breaths. That shit didn't work. He was more jacked up then if he'd been on crack.
"I thought Vera was a fighter. Where is she?" Rome frowned at the change in subject. He put on his Kevlar before answering.
"She's incapacitated. She was staying in the guest cabin. They ambushed her, and killed two of our guards before taking Alison."
Jacks tensed. "Is she all right?"
Vane stepped forward looking like he belonged on the cover of a military magazine with his Kevlar, sidearm, belt holding mace, a tazer, and God knows what else. "She's fine. We're ready to go."
His older brother Darien was here too. His brother never talked anymore. Rome remembered a time when his brother smiled, laughed, joked. Something had died in him with that woman with that baby. Darien’s problems were his own though.
Rome took a deep breath and nodded. "Execute."
Darien and Vane took off towards the ma
nsion while Rome and Jacks took the right. They flanked around the side of the house to the backdoor, and took out two guards before they had time to use their Walky-talkies.
Rome smashed through the back door, raising his two guns and drilling bullets at the guards.
"Upstairs." Rome could smell her. His heart was a hard drum beating in his chest. The scents of blood and vanilla sent his beast into a full rage. He didn’t feel anything about killing these guards. Had no thoughts as to innocence or guilt.
They made their way through the house. Guards swarmed out of the living room. Rome lost his guns in a tangle of limbs and kicks. He roared and threw the two thugs off him, slamming them into the wall.
The first thug recovered quickly, tore a knife out of his belt, and lunged at him. Rome dodged the blow, grabbed the man's wrist, and snapped it until bone cracked. The man howled and Rome drove his fist into his face with all the strength in him. Blood spattered and bones broke under the force. The man collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Rome surveyed the area and saw Vane and Darien tying up their catch.
Darien looked up at him. Something in his eyes said he understood. "Proof for the Justicars. We need them alive." Rome didn't look at the man whose face was now unrecognizable. He didn't care.
The scent of vanilla and blood, her blood, was stronger now. He charged up the stairs. Someone shouted his name behind him, but it sounded faraway over the screaming roar in his head. Following her scent, he turned right where it grew stronger. He stopped at the door at the far end of the hall. He turned the knob, his heart in his throat, it didn't budge. He roared, the door vibrating in its frame with the force of its power and then slammed his booted foot into the wood. It splintered and shattered apart.
He flew into the room, but caught sight of Alison and Conlin and stopped dead in his tracks. Cold fear mixed with rage making him even more deadly. His hands fisted, his arms shaking with the force to keep from acting.
"Alison, baby." His voice a mere croak.
She turned to him from her tied up position, her naked body bleeding with open cuts. The blade that Conlin was holding to her neck, slipped into her skin with the movement. A line of red streaked across her neck.
"Don't move!" His hand reached out as if to stop her.
Conlin through back his head and laughed. "So I finally get to meet the second brother, Roman Kategan. Or are you the third in line? Eh, well, not that it matters." He tilted his head to the side and sniffed the air. "You reek of anger and fear, Alpha. Ali and I were having the greatest time before you decided to show up."
"Yeah, we're real party crashers." His eyes locked on Alison's, refused to let go. Tears shined in her eyes before falling down her cheeks. Her lips trembled but she kept silent.
"And you're funny, too. Ah, we probably could have been friends under different circumstances. I must say that you have no right breaking into my home. But now I have free reign to kill you."
He clenched his jaw so hard it cracked. "You stole my woman."
"Your woman? Have you mated her? She might carry your disgusting scent inside her from your filthy seed, but that's all. She was mine long before she was yours, Kategan. Don't you know? I fucked her nearly everyday for months while we were together. It was my seed filling her belly, not yours."
Rome roared and took a step forward. Conlin's eyes widened a fraction. In fear? He pressed the knife a little deeper into Alison's neck.
Panting hard, Rome met her eyes again.
"I'm going to get you out of here baby. Everything's going to be fine."
She mouthed some words, but her lips were trembling so badly he couldn't tell what she said.
"Your fight is with me, Conlin. Not her."
The man laughed. "Wrong again. I have absolutely no fight with you, only her."
Rome lunged forward, relying on the knowledge that Darien and Vane would be close behind by now. With all the power of the lykaen inside him, he moved faster than a bullet, leaped over the bed, and caught Conlin by the shoulders. They both went down on the ground. Conlin landed hard, but kept hold on the knife.
Blind fury took over his movements. He pulled back his arm and let his slam into Conlin’s face. The spray and crunch of bones was like a soothing balm to his raging anger. So he did it again and again. His hand throbbed and pulsed, but he ignored it. Conlin’s nose cracked under the weight of his fist and he let out a loud scream.
Conlin twisted beneath him and jerked his hips up, tossing Rome off. Rome didn't recover quickly enough and Conlin slashed forward with his silver blade and cut through Rome’s thigh. Snarling with rage, Rome grabbed Conlin's wrist and squeezed tight. Conlin yelped and his fingers loosened, letting the blade fall.
Leaning forward, uncaring of the blood gushing from his wound, Rome slammed his fist again into Conlin's face. The crush of bone and spray of blood fueled his rage like gasoline on a fire. He grabbed Conlin's hair in a vicious grip and yanked it to the side. Hard hands pushed at his chest, struggled underneath him, but he forced himself closer. Then, baring his teeth, he attacked.
Teeth tore into flesh, blood pooled thickly in his mouth. He bit down on the meat and tore himself away, taking it with him. Conlin gasped and reached for his neck, but found only chunks of gore.
Rome stood and spit out the meat and turned to help his mate. The wound wouldn't kill Conlin, but it would incapacitate him enough for Alison to perform the killing blow. It was her righteous duty, not his.
"Baby. Are you okay?" Her head lay turned towards his, but her eyes didn't blink. Ice entered his veins and his heart stopped beating.
He rushed to her side and caught her face in his hands. Please God don't let him be too late. Please. "Alison, look at me!"
As if in slow motion, he looked down, to see the line of blood at her neck much deeper, much heavier than before. Her eyes blinked up at him much too slowly, too lazily.
"Oh God." His voice was a croak, raw pain filling it. It was all his fault. The knife had cut her when he'd jumped on Conlin. It was his fault.
Her eyes closed and didn’t open again. He screamed. He didn't stop until faces poured into the room.
Jacks was the first to come forward. "Let me see." When Rome refused to let go, his friend spoke harder. "I said, let her go. I have field medical training, Roman. You know this. Let me look at her." He couldn’t though. The man had no idea what he was asking him to do. He couldn’t let her go now. A burning wetness pooled in his eyes, stinging his wide eyes.
Darien came forward, and gently removed his hands from her. Rome met his brother's eyes; they held such dark pain, such understanding. Now he knew why Darien had pushed himself away like he did. To know that the woman you loved was dying. How did the man even live?
He watched as if from the long end of a shadowy tunnel as Jacks sprouted questions. He worked with quick, jerky movements that still managed to be precise.
If the silver went deep enough. If it had cut through her spinal cord, then the damage would be irreparable. She would bleed out and then her heart would stop.
He remembered being told that the blood had stopped. But he didn't remember why. Had Jacks stopped the flow? Would she live? Or was the damage irreparable and his mate was about to die. Rome didn't know.
He didn't know because the light at the far end of the tunnel grew dimmer and foggier like black smoke was blocking his vision. He cursed inwardly and scrambled to focus. No!
Must see her face one last time. He flailed against the shadows behind his eyes, against the fog in his mind, but it useless. He screamed inside until his throat burned and bled. But the darkness refused to bow and took over him completely.
Chapter 15
The blurry lights made it difficult to see.
"Fix the lights already." She didn't mean to be a complainer, but really. Hadn't she been through enough?
Someone chuckled from beside her. She turned and blinked first one eye than the other. She frowned when the blurry figure didn't bec
ome the man she was hoping for.
"I'm afraid I can't do anything about the lights. It's your vision that's blurry, not them. I'm Darien Kategan, by the way, we haven’t formally met. How do you feel?" His voice was a lovely tenor. He had a calm, patient way of speaking as though he had all the time in the world to listen to her speak.
"Sorry, I'm not a morning person. I feel like…someone used my body for a punching bag. Like maybe a bunch of UFC fighters. Am I really here? Is this real? Because, no offense, but if this is heaven then they sent me the wrong man to dream about. I think they mixed up brothers.”
A ghost of a smile flared on his lips. “You’re very much alive, and I’d feel like shit too after what you’ve been through.”
Alison took that all in then asked the question that was burning at her mind.
“Where's Rome?" she asked in a quiet voice.
The big man who looked like a linebacker for the Gods looked away and shifted side to side. Alison stilled, the air freezing in her lungs.
"What's wrong?"
"He's down the hall, but he's been hurt. Wait, whoa, where do you think you're going?" Alison had already thrown back the covers and moved to a sitting position.
"I'm going to see my mate."
The man looked pensively at her, then smiled softly. "Then let me help you," he said at last.
The walk down the hallway didn't last long. Darien picked her up and carried her, which was perfect because her stomach, chest, thighs, and neck throbbed like a SOB.
The sight of Rome left a sharp pang in her heart. He was lying on the big bed with the covers disheveled around him. His face was pale and had lost its healthy glow. His eyes didn't even open when she sat on the bed.
"What happened to him?" She tried not to let tears choke her voice, but it was hard. They fell in fast rivulets down her face as she crawled closer. His scent was so familiar, so beautiful. It calmed her even as worry tugged at her with cruel arms.
