Rome took a deep breath and nodded. "Execute."
Darien and Vane took off towards the mansion 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.