Savage Sacrifice: A Dire Wolves Mission (The Devil's Dires Book 5)

by Ellis Leigh

  Before she could respond, the man before her shifted wolf once more. This time, there was no pause, no slow roll. It was as if he was meant to be wolf, his human form simply enveloped into the fur of his beast. The shift human was the one that was broken. From human to beast appeared easier, more natural. More instinctual.

  Within the blink of an eye, he’d changed forms…

  And attacked.

  “Colt,” she yelled as the wolf clamped his teeth around the man’s waist. The wolf roared and twisted, throwing Colt to the ground with an almost lazy-looking move. Too big, too strong. Especially for her. As the beast tore into Colt’s flesh, as the blood began to spray and the man hollered in pain, Michaela screamed. The wolf had her bodyguard pinned beneath him. There was nothing she could do, nothing to stop the wolf as he attacked his prey. It was all over too fast. One bite, one snap of jaws, one sharp head twist, and she knew…Colt was dead.

  She screamed again.

  The beast snarled and kept attacking anyway, tossing Colt’s body about like a piece of garbage. Making more noise than she’d thought possible. And Michaela…well, she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t excuse herself from witnessing the horror. This was somehow her fault, and she owed Colt more than to run off and hide. She would look for every opportunity to save the remains of her friend from his murderer. She would do…something. As soon as her body started answering her brain again.

  Before she could decide what, the door of the cabin flew open, and Phego rushed outside with Deus right behind him. Michaela wanted to run to her mate, wanted to feel his arms around her and know she was safe, but as the wolf dragged Colt’s lifeless body closer to the porch, she saw Phego’s face. The pain, the shuttering of every possible emotion. Something about the scene sent him running, at least mentally. Something betrayed his trust. But what? She hadn’t set this up. In fact, she felt more in danger at that moment than ever before. So why was her mate looking at her as if she’d betrayed him? And why couldn’t she get her feet to move like she wanted them to?

  The wolf stopped growling and stood still when he seemed to notice his witnesses, dropping Colt’s body to the ground as if it were nothing. As if it weren’t a person.

  “Gressil,” Phego yelled, his voice sharp and direct. Confirming her fears—they knew each other. They were likely family as the wolf, Gressil, had implied. A tear burned a path down her cheek, and she couldn’t stop shaking. This was bad. This was all bad. Had Phego somehow set them up? Were Ariel and the baby in danger?

  The wolf shifted human again, stepping right beside Michaela as he did. She stiffened, unable not to. Unable to move a muscle as the simple power of his form grew close to her. Unable to move…at all.

  Shit, even if she’d wanted to, she literally couldn’t get her body to respond to her thoughts. She was trapped, frozen. Completely under Gressil’s control.

  “So you do remember me,” Gressil said in a mocking sort of tone. He reached out and dragged a finger down Michaela’s arm, making her shiver. Making her want to vomit once more.

  Phego’s jaw ticked once, twice. A tell of his frustration. A sure sign of a burning rage within him. Rage at who or what, though, she couldn’t be sure. “Sort of hard to forget the man who led me to my death.”

  “Oh, little brother. Are you still mad about that?” Gressil chuckled. “I would have figured a millennium or two would have chilled out that bad attitude.”

  Phego didn’t take the bait of that statement. “You should be dead.”

  “No, you should be.” Gressil snapped and snarled, his canines descending and his wolf fur sprouting. Losing most of his control to the beast within. “You’re the fallen son, the failure to the line. I did what I was told. I lived up to every expectation our Alpha set, while you ran about trying to please our parents as if they mattered in the grand scheme of the pack.”

  “That was no pack,” Deus said, his voice rough with his growl.

  Gressil lurched closer to the porch, his hand clamping around Michaela’s wrist to keep her next to him. “That pack was everything. I killed my own parents to show my loyalty to the Alpha, but no. My bastard brother, the one the Alpha truly wanted dead, disappeared before I could finish my assignment. I couldn’t prove I’d done all that he wanted, so I was thrown out.”

  “What are you doing here?” Phego asked with no emotion to his voice. No expression on his face. Stoic once more. Closed off. Lost to her.

  Michaela stumbled as Gressil yanked her forward, the control over her muscles loosening enough that she could move. Not run, not escape, not have full functionality of her body…but she could move. Which was so much better than the feeling of being frozen in place that she’d been fighting.

  “I’ve been looking for you, brother.” Gressil spat the last word as if the syllable was something foul. Something dirty and wrong. “It was a nice little plot twist that I found you with a mate by your side.”

  Phego didn’t flinch, didn’t even look her way. He seemed disconnected from her in every way, which killed Michaela inside. More tears fell as Gressil’s claws punctured her arm, the pain searing. Blood dripped as well, the soft pats of each drop falling adding to the nightmare playing out in her mind. Why wouldn’t Phego help her?

  “Let her go,” Deus said, looking ready to attack even as Phego simply stared.

  “No, I don’t think I will.” Gressil grinned. “I saw you two in the barn the other day, Belphegor. Very hot. Think I might just take her as a prize.”

  Michaela couldn’t help it. She cried and tried to pull away from the disgusting creature, gasping a small yelp as his claws dug deeper. Phego finally looked her way, finally caught her eye. Finally broke. One second, that was all it took. His face cleared, his worry shining through, and the warmth of his attention held her in its grasp.

  An act. It had to be an act. He would help her. He would save her.

  “Release her,” Phego said. “This is our fight. She has nothing to do with it.”

  “I disagree, brother. She has a lot to do with it. Or at least, she could.” He ran a finger along Michaela’s face, his claw skimming her cheek. His smell making her gag. “I wonder how much she’d scream if I skinned her alive. How much would you, Belphegor, if I made you watch?”

  Phego’s eyes went from light gray to pure, chrome-like silver in a blink, his wolf making itself known. “Won’t happen.”

  “No? Then how about I just kill you instead?” Gressil shifted again, his speed still something impressive to behold. But Michaela had seen this change already, had memorized his moves. Like a baseball player eyeing the first pitch as it whizzed through the strike zone, she’d watched and learned and set up some sort of timing in her mind. She knew his tells. And as he shifted, she felt her body come back under her control. She had one shot. One chance to try not to die.

  And she was going to take it.

  Before Gressil could take one step toward her mate, before he was fully wolf, even, Michaela was on him. Her human arms stretched around his neck as much as she could make them, and she laid her body out across his spine to unbalance him. She pressed her feet under his hips and clamped on with her knees, riding him. Unable to stop him, but using simple physics to slow him down.

  Gressil twisted and turned, snapping at her, but she refused to let go. Refused to simply let him kill her mate. Not if she could stop it.

  “Michaela, no!”

  She didn’t know who yelled her name, didn’t see what was happening on the porch. She closed her eyes and held on as the wolf bucked and snarled. As he backed into the forest. As he twisted and snarled and fought.

  As he reared up on his back legs.

  As he surrendered to gravity and fell back.

  As he crushed her into something hard and unforgiving.

  17

  From where Phego stood, Michaela looked terrified. He doubted the rest of the group could see how much, though. Deus didn’t know her yet, and Gressil—fuck, Gressil. If Phego weren’t so worried about
his mate, he might just drag this confrontation out so he could figure out how the fuck his brother, who should have been dead, was there. Phego had been the information gatherer for their group for years, had learned and mastered ways of torture that always loosened lips. He wanted to know how the fucker had survived the pack extermination, how he’d lived for so long under the radar, and if there were any more Dires like him out there.

  Yes, the work side of his brain wanted to break out knives and pliers and torches to get his information. The human side of him wanted answers. The wolf side just wanted his mate safe and away from the sick fuck his brother had obviously become.

  He may have doubted Michaela for a split second, but not after he saw her face. Not after he recognized the feel of an Alpha order hanging over her. Not after her eyes filled with tears as she watched him. He needed her, cared for her, and wanted her safe. He also trusted her enough to know she had nothing to do with the shitshow she seemed to be in the middle of.

  “Release her,” Phego said, curling a lip at his brother in a subtle challenge. “This is our fight. She has nothing to do with it.”

  But Gressil never did take well to challenges, and he continued that streak. “I disagree, brother. She has a lot to do with it. Or at least, she could.” With a cocky smirk that sent ice racing along Phego’s spine and made his inner wolf snarl, Gressil ran a finger along Michaela’s face, his claw pressing into her cheek. “I wonder how much she’d scream if I skinned her alive. How much would you, Belphegor, if I made you watch?”

  Claws out, eyes tightening into their wolf vision, he was ready. “Won’t happen.”

  “No? Then how about I just kill you instead?”

  “Stay with Ariel,” Phego said to Deus as he exploded into motion. He didn’t need to wait for Deus to respond. His brother would keep the Omega safe. Hell, the second Michaela got away from Gressil, Deus would keep her safe, too. Phego didn’t even have to ask. But saving Michaela was Phego’s primary plan, his only goal. Separate his mate from the danger, then eliminate the threat.

  Phego jumped from the porch and dove straight for Gressil, shifting in midair. He landed with his teeth bared, his claws out, and his wolf ready to tear into his brother’s flesh. But Gressil was no weakling, no untrained wolf.

  And apparently, Michaela had plans of her own.

  She jumped on top of Gressil, wrapping her body around him like a cowboy on a bucking bronc. Holding on to his neck in a way that Phego was almost proud of. But that didn’t last for long. Gressil wasn’t one not to fight back. He roared and jumped, trying to knock her off his back. Before Phego could get to them, Gressil reared up and fell back, slamming Michaela between his body and a tree.

  She fell off and lay limp in the grass, unconscious. Unprotected.

  He hated to leave her like that, but Phego saw his chance and he had to take it. He rushed Gressil, knocking him down with a vicious hit to the side. Gressil wasn’t an easy opponent, though. He jumped up and came storming toward Phego, slamming into him with teeth bared. Phego fell back, taking Gressil with him, narrowly avoiding teeth and claws as he tried to gain the upper hand. Or paw, as it were.

  Phego fought hard, using his body weight to force the fight away from his mate. He couldn’t see Michaela, couldn’t focus on her for a second, but he could try to get Gressil out of her vicinity so Deus could take care of her. That was his goal—as least, his first one. After she was safe, he could figure out what to do about his brother. Information retrieval and death, or just immediate death…there wasn’t another option for him. Gressil wasn’t walking out of the forest.

  It took Phego a few tries, but eventually, he managed to get his claws deep into his brother’s hide. Gressil yelped and fell back, limping away. Phego followed him, head down, hackles up, snarling. Ready to fight. Ready to kill. But Gressil wasn’t ready to die, apparently. He shifted to his human form, the move one that wasn’t as smooth or as easy as it should have been. A sure sign he’d been in his wolf form for far too long.

  “Good hit, brother,” Gressil said, grabbing his neck as if trying to hold in the blood pouring down his chest. He shot a glance around the clearing as if looking for an escape, but Phego didn’t give him one. Wouldn’t. He just kept backing Gressil up toward the barn, toward the place he’d use if he decided to go for information retrieval. Away from Michaela…and Ariel.

  “What, you won’t talk to me?” Gressil laughed, the sound pained and wrong. That throat wound looked deadly, which meant Phego needed to move faster. Make a decision. But Gressil didn’t seem to know how to hold his tongue. “You always were a self-righteous little bastard.”

  Phego took the bait that time, shifting human. Staying close to his prey as he herded him back. “I am no bastard.”

  “No, you’re not. You were the prized son. The youngest, yet the one groomed to be Alpha.”

  “Not true.”

  “That,” Gressil yelled, pointing, his eyes wide and burning bright with some sort of fanatical fire. “You never even saw it. The Alpha wanted you to replace him when the time came, so they were grooming you. Making sure you were ready for the challenges, while I was forced to go out and find my own training.”

  “Are you jealous? Do you not remember that last day? Our parents tried to have me killed.”

  Gressil laughed as he edged around the clearing at the back of the cabin, the sound sending chills up Phego’s spine. “Our parents didn’t try to kill you. That was all me. You were the perfect Alpha son, ready to be promoted into pack leadership. Handed that position on a silver fucking platter. But I wanted that spot. I deserved it.”

  Gressil lunged, rushing past Phego in an effort to head toward the cabin. He was fast, too, but Phego was faster. Phego had always been faster. He stepped in Gressil’s way and braced himself, a wall of muscle and human that Gressil had no chance at forcing his way through.

  As Gressil hit, Phego twisted and struck with his claws, taking another handful of flesh from the man just to prove he could. Gressil bounced back, falling over, grunting and grabbing his torn open bicep.

  “Fuck, what the hell are you?” Gressil asked, spitting his words.

  But Phego was running out of patience. He stepped over the fallen Dire, one foot on his shoulder, his weight holding Gressil down. “Where have you been?”

  “Fuck you,” Gressil spat, writhing in an attempt to push off his captor. The blood flowing from his neck had slowed, whether from too much loss or healing, Phego didn’t know. Didn’t care, either. He had information to get, and that meant making sure Gressil knew death was coming, but keeping him hopeful enough that he’d be spared to flap his lips.

  That meant getting a little rough.

  Phego wasn’t new to the tactic; he’d mastered it centuries ago. He slid his foot over Gressil’s blood-covered chest, heading toward his throat. Pressing on Gressil’s neck with his heel. Death then hope. Phego pressed down, cutting off his brother’s air supply for a few seconds before releasing the pressure to allow Gressil to breathe. He did it again. And again. Repeating the move, stretching the time his brother couldn’t breathe for longer and longer until Gressil lay still, silent, and defeated.

  “Let’s try this again,” Phego said as he leaned over and pressed his toes against Gressil’s chin. “Where have you been?”

  This time, Gressil didn’t hesitate. “Running packs down in Australia.”

  “Why Australia?”

  “It’s easy to hide out there. Especially for us Dires.”

  Phego kept his calm on the outside, but inside, his mind spun hard with that new piece of information. “There are more?”

  Gressil chuckled and spat a glob of blood onto the grass. “What? You thought you were special? You and your so-called pack?”

  Phego took one second too long to respond, a single moment of shock overtaking him and slowing his reaction. But that was enough. Gressil grabbed his ankle and twisted, throwing him off as the injured Dire jumped to his feet. The two shifted wolf once
more, Gressil just a hair faster than Phego.

  But again, that was all it took.

  Gressil had Phego pinned in a split second, had his teeth on Phego’s neck in the same moment. There was no time to react, no time to fight back. There was nothing left…

  Which was why seeing a branch come out of nowhere and smack his brother upside the head shook Phego to his very core. Gressil rolled off him, grunting as he fell to the side. Phego jumped to his feet, ready to war, ready to battle, but instead, he froze. Seeing Michaela standing on the other side of Gressil’s body, branch in hand and looking like some sort of Amazon princess ready to fight to the death stole his breath. How could she be so strong? How could she be so loyal as to risk her life for him already?

  And how the hell had he gotten so lucky as to have her by his side?

  But those thoughts all needed to wait. Phego pounced toward her, ready to shove her back toward the house and safety, but it was too late. Gressil had recovered his feet and was already bearing down on her. Phego forced himself to move faster, determined, ready to jump between them. Gressil reached her first, rearing up on his back legs. Mouth open and teeth bared as he came down at her. Phego pushed himself more, desperate to get to her. To save her. Hoping that branch she was holding up as a shield could give him the extra second or two he needed to—

  The sound of a single gunshot exploded through the clearing.

  Gressil and Michaela fell, both bloodied. Both hit. Phego’s heart nearly stopped, but his feet didn’t. He turned for Michaela, needing to check on his mate, to make sure she was okay. To save her. Deus cut him off.

  “Finish this,” he yelled, dragging Michaela away from where Gressil still lay in the grass. Phego put his faith in his brother, his Dire brother, and twisted around to finish off Gressil. Fuck the information he might have. If there were other Dires, so be it. His pack would find them. But first…

  Gressil rolled, his flesh still hanging open along his throat, his fur stained red along one side of his chest. The same color red as Michaela’s blood…the blood she spilled because of him. While Gressil may not have been the one to directly injure his mate, it was still his fault. And Phego would make him pay.