CHAPTER SIX

Darius moved like the wind.

One moment, the rogues were circling me, victorious smiles plastered on their faces and hunger filling their eyes at their newest prey. The next, they were flying—their bodies slammed into trees like rag dolls.

A gasp escaped my lips as a blur of flesh struck the first rogue right before he landed on the ground with great force, sending him crashing into a tree trunk with a sickening crack. I barely blinked before another went down with a guttural yelp.

All my life, I've lived in isolation; the only form of battle witnessed was the pack warriors' training. Although fights broke out once in a while, it was not this violent. This right here, crazy to admit was terrifying and beautiful.

I know I was crazy to think wolves being beaten to a pulp was beautiful but they tried to r*pe a few minutes ago. But nothing looked more powerful and imposing than Darius.

He didn't even shift into his wolf form, the only proof of his wolf being present were his glowing eyes. His shirt was ripped in places by the flexing of his muscles and his sudden movements.

I watched as he caught a wolf trying to sneak up behind him. The wolf pounced with a snarl on its lips, with the hopes of locking its fangs at the back of his throat. Darius turned right in time and held it by the scruff. He slammed the wolf on the ground side by side. The wolf released a loud yelp at the first impact, the next, it went silent.

He turned to watch the one of the rogues, the youngest one standing not too far from the tree he had been thrown unto. I could see the way he shook in fear and the faint smell of urine stung my nose.

Darius stood in the clearing like a wolf god—shoulders broad, eyes blazing with fury, his bare arms slick with blood that wasn’t his.

A rogue lunged at him from behind with a blade in hand—the brute. Darius ducked low, catching the attacker mid-leap, and twisted, using the rogue's own momentum to swing to the closest tree. The scream that followed was bloodcurdling—Darius finished him with a knee to the gut and a backhand that sent him unconscious.

Another tried to attack from the left—the rat-like one. Darius turned so fast and landed a kick square to his chest, sending him spiraling across the forest floor in a heap of root and dirt.

I watched as Darius turned his attention to the last one left now—the youngest—visibly shaking, his claws raised in desperation. He probably felt like he had to go down with his crew.

"Don’t—” I started, but it was too late.

Darius didn’t even give the rogue time to plead. In a flash, he had him pinned to a tree, a hand wrapped around his throat.

“You thought it was smart to touch what’s mine?” Darius growled, voice laced with venom.

The rogue choked, eyes bulging in terror.

"Darius, please. He's still a kid. Let him go, please." But he turned a deaf ear to my pleas.

“Answer me,” Darius snapped, his hand getting tighter around the rogue's neck.

“I-I didn’t know,” the rogue gasped, barely able to speak. "I'm sorry."

Darius’s lips curled into a humorless smile. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think.”

Then he released the rogue—only to drive a brutal punch straight into his gut, knocking him out cold.

A heavy silence descended upon the forest; seemed like even the winds were scared to blow. Five men lay beaten around me, broken and unconscious. I could only stand frozen, chest heaving, heart pounding in my throat.

Darius turned to me, his gaze fierce and unreadable. “Are you hurt?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. How could I speak after what I’d just witnessed? Besides that, I didn't trust myself to speak again with his glowing eyes fixed on me.

I shook my head and the movement seemed to do the opposite of what I wanted. I winced in pain, forgetting the injury I had sustained on my shoulder blades.

Darius was upon me in seconds, his hands tenderly ripping the material from my neck so he could get to the wound. I'm transfixed by the scene before me.

This was the man who beat five rogues to a pulp a few seconds ago. Now, he's being gentle with me. I'm very well aware that his wolf is still in control of our proximity to each other.

He ripped a piece of his torn shirt and tenderly wiped the blood, his face shifting to mine every time I wince in pain.

When the blood was all gone, he held my shoulder and I felt shivers run down my spine. It took me a few seconds to know what he was about to do but I couldn't stop him stop, transfixed by his eyes.

His lips gently grazed my injury and if not for the hand holding my shoulders, I'd have fallen from wobbly knees. I suddenly felt heat in my core and before I knew what was happening, my lips clapped with his.

I'd been kissed a couple of times and had a couple of sex, too, but none of those men made my skin burn from the way Darius did. His lips were soft and I felt the need in the way they moved around mine.

I didn't know how long we kissed but it felt like hours, blissful hours. It was just the two of us in the woods and no one else. He pulled back first, and I watched him squeeze his eyes shut, his breath coming out in loud puffs. Like he was trying to tame his wolf.

When his eyes finally opened, they were back to their usual dull gold. He was back in control.

He stepped back and it felt like someone had dumped me into a pool of ice.

“Next time you run,” he said softly, “at least wait until I’m done with my coffee.” before turning back the way he had come, leaving me wet between my legs and transfixed.