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.