by K.N. Lee
Her temple felt swollen, but she hadn’t been clawed. She wouldn’t have put it past the vindictive werewolf to disfigure her, but maybe Laci didn’t realize the extent of her relationship with Magnus.
Just what was her relationship with Magnus? Honestly, if he weren’t a werewolf, would she want to date him? She couldn’t be sure, mostly because she couldn’t picture a human Magnus. He had the majesty and grace and cunning and strength of a wolf. He had a commanding presence, and she was drawn to him, there was no doubting that. And that kiss proved he was drawn to her, too.
But everything that drew her to him surely had to draw others to him. They couldn’t really ever be together. He should be with a werewolf, one completely unlike that vicious Laci.
I’m glad you never went for her. She’s a real—
By now, Zelda’s eyes had adjusted enough for her to realize she was in another barren room. Again, she wasn’t tied up, but this room didn’t have a window.
She was stuck here, awaiting… what? Judgment?
Laci’ll kill me first chance she gets.
Hopefully her brother wasn’t as vindictive.
Zelda doubted that would be the case.
Maybe she dozed, maybe not, but eventually a knock sounded at the door. It swung open to reveal a tall, overly muscular man with dark silver eyes. At once, she knew this had to be the alpha. Light from beyond him gave him a glow, almost like a halo. Yeah, right. As if he were an angel.
She scrambled to her feet, thought about curtseying to him, but opted against it. She was his prisoner. She wasn’t gonna show him any respect because he didn’t deserve any.
Instead, she lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. “I want to go home,” she demanded.
“I want you to start talking.” He entered the room and closed the door behind her. His gaze wandered over her body, and then he lazily walked around her in a circle. “Who are you? Why have you been entangling in our affairs?”
“Like I told Chantal, my name is Juliet.” Her heart sped up as she recalled Magnus calling her that. He sure wasn’t her Romeo, but maybe he could be hers one day anyhow.
That was foolish thinking… right?
“Where is Chantal anyhow?” Zelda crossed her arms.
He gripped her chin firmly, harshly, but she could tell he was holding back. “I’ll ask the questions.”
She shrugged. “I don’t normally answers questions from someone who hasn’t told me their name, and I already answered one…”
To her surprise, he released his hold on her and laughed. Laughed! Just a short chuckle, but she blinked in surprise.
“Are you always so bold?” he asked.
“Only on days that end in ‘y.’”
He nodded, stroking his stubbled chin. “Tell me how you know Magnus.”
The air left her lungs, and her knees grew weak. Had something happened to him?
“Is he all right?” she demanded.
“Asking questions again.” His lips twisted into a half-smirk. “Honestly, I don’t know. I did spare his life—”
“Who are you to spare his life?” she snapped, knowing this was a dangerous game she was playing, but she had to pretend she didn’t know about werewolves if she wanted any chance of getting out of this situation alive.
If that was even possible.
“Who are you?” She refused to give into fear, and she stomped over to him, shaking a finger inches from him. Back in grade school, she had been all the leads in the school plays, but since her first lab in high school, science became her sole purpose. Now, she was trying to bring back all of her rusty acting skills. “Where am I? Why…” She rubbed near her wound and winced.
He appraised her, saying nothing.
“Why can’t you bring in a lamp?” she asked, allowing a trace of fear to creep into her voice. What did he want with her? Did Laci think that Magnus and her were together? Did Laci want her killed? Her eyes widened, and the tears that brimmed might not be completely fake. “What… What do you want from me?”
“You’re passingly pretty,” he finally said.
She gaped at him. If he wanted her for some kind of mate or whatever, the answer was a big fat hell no!
“Maybe he’s forgotten what it’s like to be with one of his kind.”
Oh! He meant Magnus. She breathed easier.
Too late, she realized she needed to respond, and she hoped and prayed he didn’t notice her delay. “O-One of his k-kind?” she blurted. “What… What do you mean? I don’t… I don’t understand.” She backed up and shook her lowered head, her hair coming forward. The motion stirred a wave of dizziness, and she stumbled.
He caught her.
She jerked free. “Don’t touch me!” she shrieked. “Who are you? I was attacked. Kidnapped. Chantal helped me, and now I’m—”
“Who attacked you?” His eyes narrowed to tiny silver slits.
“I don’t know who they were,” she mumbled. She had a theory—that they had been the Blood Warriors—but she wasn’t about to share that detail.
He crept forward, and she retreated, and they continued that awkward dance until her back slammed against the wall. His hands braced the wall above hers shoulders, effectively pinning her. “Stop with the games.”
“I don’t—”
“I don’t need to let you live,” he murmured.
She swallowed hard. “I’m just a scientist!”
“Just? Is that it? If only that were true. You’re messing with the wrong guy. I’ve killed before.”
Zelda couldn’t help herself; she was getting pissed, and her anger was almost as strong as her fear. “Is that supposed to frighten me? Some boast that you’ve killed before? Because—”
Whatever she was going to say next died—honestly, she’d just been spouting out words so even she wasn’t sure what would’ve followed—when he smiled at her, his lips curling back to not reveal teeth but fangs.
Her heart skipped several beats, and she swallowed hard.
Maybe it was flight or fight or maybe she had a secret death wish, but before she could reconsider, Zelda wrapped her left hand around her right fist and slammed it against the side of his jaw. Probably only because of the element of surprise, he staggered back a half step, and she brought up her knee to hit his groin.
Only he wrapped his arm around her waist, spun her around, and pressed her flush against the wall.
“Are you done?” he asked, his words slurred.
“If you’re gonna kill me, do it now,” she said as best she could with her face smashed.
He released her so suddenly her legs gave out on her, and she tumbled to the floor. Immediately, she turned around to face him, crouching, wary.
“Spunk,” he said triumphantly. “That’s why he likes you. He does like you, doesn’t he?”
“Who? Magnus?” Her head was really beginning to hurt, and the fog in her mind prevented her from following what kind of response she should be giving. Forget acting. She could barely think, let alone portray some kind of role. It wasn’t as if she knew what the alpha wanted form her—meek and timid, subservient—yeah, right—or something else altogether.
“How did you meet him?”
“If you want to talk gossip, I demand ice cream first.”
He blinked.
“And for you to sit down so I can braid your hair.”
“I—”
“Make that a sundae. Don’t forget the cherry.”
His face turned purple. “I don’t suffer insults.” With that, he pivoted on his heel and stalked away, slamming the door shut behind him.
Zelda lay out on the ground, eyes closed. Maybe they would kill her after all.
Well, if they did, her professor would find her notes in the lab. Her death would mean that someone else would learn about the existence of werewolves.
When her eyes next opened, she spotted a plate. A Philly cheesesteak.
“No ice cream?” she mumbled.
“Eat. Talk. And maybe.”
/> The voice came from behind her, and she stiffened to see the alpha leaning against the back corner of her prison.
She didn’t want to eat, but the smell was divine, and she was hungry, starving really, and she inhaled it. Geno’s. So good. As far as possible last meals went, it wasn’t a bad choice, not at all.
“Ready to talk?” the alpha asked.
“Oh, I can talk. I can tell you about acids and bases and titrations and weather patterns and all kinds of stuff, but if you want me to talk about what you want to hear, well, first you’re gonna have to make me a promise.”
“You aren’t in a position to negotiate.”
“Actually… I am. Because if you don’t promise not to kill me, I’ll kill myself.”
“With what?” He made a point of looking around the empty room.
“I won’t eat or drink. It’ll take some time, but it’ll do the job.”
“I would force the food down your throat, or else I’d just kill you myself. Whatever information you have—”
“Might be really important. Might not be. You won’t ever know if you kill me.” Zelda tilted her head, eyeing him. She knew she was playing with fire, and she might be getting herself killed, but she couldn’t get a read on the alpha. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, and sometimes he seemed willing to go along with her antics, and other times, he seemed ready to break her arm.
But she wasn’t going to beg. She wasn’t going to cower in a corner. She might not have her gun—her purse was missing—but she would fight with what she had: her words, her wit, and her fists if need be.
Of course, if it came down to her fists, she was a goner.
He said nothing, glowering at her.
Seconds ticked by until she couldn’t handle the silence. “I want my sundae.”
The alpha rolled his eyes. “I did tell you maybe, didn’t I?”
“You did, but I’m more of a yes-or-no kind of girl. Maybe is too waffly for me. And I don’t like ice cream and waffles.”
“Start. Talking.” He didn’t step toward her, but somehow, his presence seemed to take up more space within the small room.
Zelda gulped. “All right. I met Magnus by accident. I was looking for an herb—”
“I don’t want to hear about plants!”
“Let me finish!”
He raised a hand.
She hated herself for it, but she flinched. The alpha made such a huge, imposing figure. He had so many inches on her and muscles to spare. A slap would land her on the floor, bleeding, maybe even concussed.
The alpha lowered his hands, silver eyes glittering darkly. “Go on but stay on track.”
Zelda gulped and nodded. “I saw a wolf—”
His eyes flashed.
“He was wounded. I… I work at a vet’s office, so seeing a wounded animal, even a wolf… And then…” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to get the wolf into my car, to take to the vet, and… he changed.”
Zelda kept her gaze on the ground, wincing, fearing how the alpha would react. Werewolves weren’t supposed to out themselves. Would telling the truth leading to her getting hurt?
To Magnus getting hurt?
“He was so weak. He didn’t have a choice! I helped him. I patched him up. He had been poisoned, so he… healing… ah…” She risked looking up.
The alpha was staring into space.
Was he even listening to her?
But she had started talking, and now the words spilled out of her. She told him everything: about the guys attacking her, about them going on the run, about the guys attacking them again and Magnus dealing with them. About Magnus leaving and her studying his blood.
Even about how his blood reacted to hers.
It was this last bit of information and only this last little bit that elicited a reaction from the alpha.
Chapter 17
Blood, bits of fur, even a stray claw and two fangs flew into the air above Magnus as the werewolves attacked him. He struggled to fight, but the sheer amount of their numbers and hatred gave him no chance.
A low growl started. It deepened to a full howl and then grew into a roar. Still, the werewolves attacked. A slash to the side of his head had Magnus’s vision darkening.
“Stop!”
Magnus tried to lift his head. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was red. Blood.
His blood.
“I said to stop!”
That voice. Whose was it? Why were the wolves listening? Why couldn’t they just kill him? He couldn’t move. He couldn’t get to his feet. He could barely bat a leaf.
Maybe he was having a delusion. Maybe his mind had snapped, and he was hearing voices and not feeling their blows and bites anymore.
Already, though, with every passing second, he could feel his body fighting back, healing. The amount of injuries he suffered, though, would require days, if not weeks to heal completely. That would be impossible. They would never grant him another day, let alone an entire week, to recover.
“Why are you here, Leviticus?”
Now that name, snarled in Kyle’s voice, snapped Magnus out of his stupor. He cracked his eyes open and weakly brushed the blood away from his eyes so he could see.
The Blood Warriors were a few spaces from him, filling the back of the room. Only Kyle stood near Magnus, maybe three feet away. The alpha—human and fully clothed yet which meant he hadn’t shifted for the battle, the coward—faced the open door where Leviticus stood.
The alpha of the Nightstar Hunters was not alone. Beside him, he gripped Zelda’s arm.
Somehow, Magnus found the strength to stand. He took one step forward before collapsing again.
The sound of Kyle’s booming laughed echoed off the walls. “Oh, what a day! Not only have we sentenced this fool of a pup to death…” Here, the alpha grandiosely gestured toward Magnus. “…but now we can add your head to the pile, too. And the rest of your pack will follow.”
Magnus stared at Zeda. Her eyes widened as she took in the sights, the blood, the carnage, and he winced inwardly. He had warned her that fighting was there way, but words were one thing, actions quite another.
When her gaze fell on him, she stilled for a second, shock, horror, and maybe even fear brimming in her eyes. She jerked herself free from Leviticus’s grasp but made no other movement.
What? How? When? How did she get entangled with Leviticus? Was she all right? No. He could smell her blood. She had open wounds. Why? From what? If Leviticus had hurt her…
“It seems to me that a single Nightstar Hunter has killed many of yours and yet he still lives,” Leviticus said calmly.
Magnus did his best not to jerk from surprise, not wanting to jar his body, but the words startled him. He wasn’t a Nightstar Hunter.
And if he was given the choice of rejoining the pack, would he take it?
He wasn’t so sure he would. Even if their abandoning him could be justified, their reaction to learning he still lived sealed the decision. He would never rejoin their numbers.
Kyle ignored the slight and took a step forward. “Who is this? An offering? If you think she will make me forget—”
“I am not an offering,” Zelda said, her hands curled at fists as her sides.
“Are you stupid, girl? Do you seek death?” Kyle strode toward her. “Do you not see what I see?” Arms spread wide, he pivoted into a graceful circle. “Do you see the blood, the carnage? Do you smell the blood, the stench of death?” Again, he moved forward, halting once he stood directly in front of her. “Have you no fear?”
The alpha was blocking Magnus’s view of her. He dragged himself forward, and it took him a moment to realize that he was using his fingers to pull himself, not his claws. His injuries, his fatigue, necessitated he reassume his human shape.
Zelda’s response was too quiet for Magnus to overhear, but he witnessed Kyle’s reaction—the alpha gripped her arm.
Somewhere deep inside, something snapped, and Magnus stood, staggered a few steps before breaking out
into a limping run. “Unhand her,” he said, blood spraying from his mouth.
Kyle threw back his head and barked a laugh. “You’re living on borrowed seconds.” The last word was slurred as he lengthened his fangs.
Zelda stared at the ground, shaking her head.
Fine. Magnus bit his tongue—literally.
“We wish for peace,” Leviticus said.
“Peace?” Kyle roared. “How can there be peace when you and yours have killed mine again and again?”
The muscle in Leviticus’s jaw jumped. “I…” His gaze shifted over the other alpha’s shoulder.
The other Blood Warriors were approaching, crowding in, half in still in their wolf states, all of them—beast or human—looking ready to resume the battle.
More like massacre.
Magnus zeroed in on Zelda. She was doing her best not to wince, but her arm was slightly changing color. Kyle was gripping her arm so tightly he was cutting off the circulation. On purpose? Or did he not realize his own strength.
Leviticus looked more like an underling or a pawn than an alpha. He would be of no use, and Zelda… She never should have been brought here. Leviticus was more the fool.
No. The fool was Magnus. He never should have involved her. He never should have kept going back to her. He never should’ve kissed her.
He had a lot of regret in his life, especially now, and that was about to increase.
“There can be peace,” he mumbled.
“You’re not allowed to talk,” Kyle snarled. At least he released his hold on Zelda, but he hauled back and punched Magnus.
Or would have, except this time, Magnus did sidestep.
“There can be peace between the Blood Warriors and the Nightstar Hunters. Through a pact. A pact made through blood. A pact made through…” Magnus exhaled deeply, wincing at the sudden shock of pain in his ribs. “Through marriage.”
Kyle glowered at him and then glared at Leviticus. “You agree with this nonsense?”
Leviticus nodded after a moment. “Yes. Peace. Through marriage.” He nodded again and seemed to regain a measure of authority. “A pact between the two of our packs could do great things. We would have the world out our feet—”
