I thought you were going to trust me... Lily fastened the stuffed bags to her chest, her jaw clenching at Rhye’s delicate words. She wanted to laugh at his phrases. She’d spent years being haunted, accused, and offended by everyone she'd ever known. She had been a renegade from her own coven, a traitor, as Gabriella called her. And now, a lethal werewolf alpha she’d met only days ago wanted her to blithely put her life in his hands? Yeah, right. So... why wasn’t she laughing?Wait, what the hell was that? Surely it wasn't her memories or ideals, Lily thought. She was human, she was not...a witch, hell, Livia and her own memories were juggling from time to time, and it confused the hell out of her. What sort of magic did the woman use on her anyway? Why did it feel like it was hers like it was her memory like she and Livia were one? Was she getting crazy?Hopefully not.Maybe because her every impulse told her that Rhye would do everything in his power to keep her safe. Whether out of
Jasmine turned back toward the cliff. She’d ordered two of her demons to keep watch on the cave from the woods behind the entrance, but she needed to find a closer position to set her trap."I’m going to wait for the sun to rise."Without warning, Francisco was standing at her side, his head bent to whisper directly in her ear. "A small warning, Jasmine," he roared softly."The early bird doesn’t get the worm... she gets eaten by the big bad wolf."A wand of anxiousness lengthened her stomach before she pushed him away with a harsh burst of rage. "Just go, Francisco. And try not to screw this up. "Ignoring the threat glow in her eyes, Francisco swaggered across the canopy and, with one motion, leapt over the low wall. She heard the faint rasp of his landing in the alley behind the building, followed by the fading sound of footsteps. Waging war against the instinct to shift, Jasmine clenched her teeth and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. It was a meaningless endeavour, of c
Lily shivered. The thought of a powerful, predatory werewolf becoming unhinged wasn’t a pleasant one. Actually, it was downright dreadful. "Should I ask?"His attitude was grim. "No."Good enough for her. "So this Trevor chases them down and kills them?" she instead demanded."It’s his duty.""Lovely." With a frown, her attention shifted toward the nearby facility. At a distance, it looked as if it had once been a beautiful structure. Three stories, with a large patio on the ground level and a hallway with an ornamental fence running along the second floor, it spouted the kind of high-arched windows famous before air-conditioning and six fluted pillars that added an air of graceful importance. The twilight, however, couldn’t hide the proof that the red bricks were crumbling into slow oblivion and the windows were missing most of their leaves of glass."Why does he live out here in the middle of nowhere? Does he give the other... the hunting thingy thingy? I mean-"Alpha Rhye breathed
Although smaller in bulk than Rhye, Trevor was smooth and muscular, with the golden skin of his ancestors. His short black hair was shaved on the sides into a long Mohawk that he weaved to hang past his shoulders. His face was as hard as the rest of him, with faintly twisted eyes the precise color of warm darkness. Wearing nothing more than a pair of faded dark jean shorts, Trevor folded his arms over his bare chest and regarded Rhye with qualm."What are you doing here? The last I heard you were in the city, doing some billionaire thing that everyone hated, fucking your whores to death, and cloistered in your lair and ignoring your pack.""I don’t ignore them," Rhye denied with a fake smile. "It’s more of a mutual agreement that I shouldn’t bother to join the politics of the council but recently accepted their offer, not a bowling league."Trevor’s short, astounded chuckle did nothing to ease the threat condensing in the air."Hardly a shock. You never flirted well with others, Rhye.
Lily wasn’t happy as she allowed Rhye to steer her into the crumbling building. Perhaps it had something to do with the stink of rusting beds that had been loaded up into what had once been a front hallway. Or the plaster that rotted from the awning as they headed down the narrow flight of stairs to a basement that, frankly, was strange as hell. The tiny, cramped rooms they passed by, as well as the broken rods and walkers shoved in a warehouse compartment, edged toward a deserted old family's residence, but whatever fascination it once might have claimed had long ago receded into oblivion. Or perhaps it had something to do with the enormous, anxious werewolf who led them through the mouldy darkness. With only an old candle lamp to brighten the hallway. Oh, Trevor was melt-worthy. He was all smooth with darling eyes. Delicious tropical heat in a pair of low-riding jean shorts. But the demon in her wasn’t fooled by Trevor’s promise of heaven. Like Rhye, the werewolf carried the potent
Lily merely switched on the light when Rhye slid past her, his brows lifting as he prowled toward the round mattress covered in delicate satin that was reflected in the mirrors above it.It was like one large bachelor cushion cliché.Her cheeks simmered with an outrageous heat. “I can’t imagine why Trevor would need guest rooms. Who the hell would want to visit?”Rhye tugged open a drawer of the paint-dark nightstand. “Unlike you, little witch, most women find Trevor inexplicably charming. Even among werewolves, his status is that of a…”“Hellhound?”“Not the name I was looking for, but it’ll do.” Rhye grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the drawer and hung them from his finger. “Well, look at this beautiful thing.”“Jesus, what the hell was he thinking?” She grimaced as he surveyed her with a watchful manner. “Don’t even think about it.”His soft, almost palpable laughter feathered over her skin. “I don’t require playthings to pleasure a woman. Of course…”“I’ve seen enough.”Whirling o
Twenty miles from Trevor's den.The room was hot, too pungent, so hot he could hardly draw in a breath without scalding his lungs. It was small and had no windows or ventilation other than a small hole up near the ceiling. Most of the time, they kept a bright light on him, forcing him to stand for days, beating him when he toppled to the floor or just plain sat down out of defiance—well, more necessity than defiance, but they didn’t see it that way.Jason had been there for days now, with no end in sight. Alone. Always alone. Sometimes they brought in others and tormented them—he could hear the howls and the noises of barbarity, the screams, usually in another language—and he was certain he was the only werewolf hostage they had. It was possibly the reason they didn’t kill him.He wasn’t sure he could have kept his sanity without her—without Jessa's voice, so soft and melodic in his head, taking him to another place, telling him she was with him, sharing her mind so that he felt he wa
The demon warden smirked and moved toward him to spit in his face. Jason replied by yanking his head up and smashing it into the guard's nose, which broke it. At the same time, he struck the man in the crotch with his feet, allowing his arms to bear his weight. Jason crashed to the ground, his arms stretched and burning. The guard fought around for a few minutes, battling for air, while the second attacker ran over to throw another rope around Jason's ankles. Only the hard breathing of the vicious guard disturbed the silence. The demon guard got unhurriedly to his feet, his face a gloss of blood. He swore, jerking Jason by the feet and beginning to drag him across the stone ground to the door. He halted and cruelly planted a boot in Jason’s ribs before screaming at the other guard to help him. Blood and spit ran down his face and he kicked again at Jason’s head before once more yanking on his feet. Jason was hauled outside and through a yard to the back of an old beat-up automobile.