Taming the White Wolf, page 22
A sharp pain pierced her, as though someone was squeezing her heart. She doubled over, clutching at her chest.
“That’s enough, my dear. We need her, at least for the time being.”
The agony continued for several eternal seconds before finally subsiding. Sprawled on the floor, she rested her fevered cheek against the cool concrete and sucked air into her starving lungs. Every beat of her heart hurt. She wouldn’t be surprised if her entire torso was bruised, inside and out.
The enormity of what she was facing threatened to break her. The temptation to lie there and do nothing shamed her. Get up! Every muscle quivered in protest, but she managed to shove herself into a seated position.
Charles was still relaxing in his chair. Solange was back beside him, looking like a smug cat that had just toyed with a mouse. The casual cruelty was appalling. These people held no value for any lives but their own.
A sense of dread and inevitability descended upon her. Solange hadn’t even broken a sweat. If anything, she’d held back. As a regular human, there was no way she could battle magic. The ease with which she’d physically manipulated Zoe and given her pain should be impossible. “How?” she asked. “How did you control me like that?”
Before she could answer, the air thickened and stirred. Charles rose from his chair. Both he and Solange stared toward the door. A sense of anticipation hung in the air.
Larger than life, Devlin stalked into the room. Wearing only a pair of faded jeans, his chest and face streaked with blood, he was a primal power, and a stark contrast to the studied sophistication of the other two. His deep voice echoed through the space. “That’s what I want to know.”
…
He wasn’t too late. Zoe was alive.
The relief was overwhelming and short-lived. The stench of her fear burned his nostrils. The erratic rhythm of her heart was worrisome. Her hands were cuffed together in front of her. A dark bruise covered one cheek. The rest of her face was deathly pale. Her hair was disheveled, her clothing dirty and torn in several places.
He didn’t recognize either of the other two people. The male was a wolf. The female stank of magic. He clamped his lips together instead of releasing the snarl trapped in his throat.
“The white wolf,” the woman whispered.
The older male frowned. “What happened to my men?”
“I killed them.” Including the ones that had kidnapped Zoe. His one regret was the bastard who’d hurt her had died too fast. That’s what had taken him so damn long. The building had been surrounded, and he couldn’t afford to leave anyone alive to call for backup. This needed to end here and now.
“Impossible. There were a dozen stationed outside. Another six inside.”
He couldn’t wait to rip the heart out of this guy. “Haven’t you heard?” He smirked, actively provoking him. Angry men made mistakes. “I’m the white wolf.” He and his wolf had always worked seamlessly, but tonight had taken it to an entirely new level. He was stronger and faster than ever before. Maybe because the stakes had never been higher. Silently and stealthily, he’d prowled among those who sought to keep him from Zoe, eliminating them one by one.
He wanted to go to her, but it was safer if their enemies’ attention was on him. If he could keep them distracted, she might get away. With her here, he had to tread carefully. He’d never hesitated during a hunt, but this time he had to proceed with extreme caution. He had too much to lose.
“Impressive.” The woman licked her lips, her eyes filled with lust. It wasn’t his body she wanted. It was his power, his immortality, what made him the white wolf.
He’d always thought of it as a curse…until now. It was an integral part of him, made him who he was.
“You’re nothing special. I killed the previous white wolf.” The male’s eyes began to glow. “My brother, my twin.”
Talk about a revelation. “That was Benjamin Roberts.” He’d always felt a kinship with the unknown male. His death had facilitated the change in Devlin.
“It should have been me.” He thumped his chest. “I was older, stronger, but it went to him. He cheated me out of my destiny.”
“That’s not how it works.” Some outside power, maybe the spirit of the wolf itself, always chose. No one had ever figured out the criteria.
“He was weak,” he snarled. “When I reached out to him, asked to meet, he came. After decades alone, he was pathetically glad to hear from me. Something went wrong when I beheaded him.”
Fuck, talk about a lack of brotherly love. “Guess the white wolf didn’t want you.”
He continued talking as if Devlin hadn’t spoken. “The spell didn’t work properly. His power was supposed to go from him to me. We were a genetic match. It should have worked.” He glowered at the mage.
“Now, Charles, that’s water under the bridge. We were working blind. We’ve learned so much since then, and everything has been working perfectly so far.”
“Perfectly? He killed my men, Solange.”
She waved away his protest. “You have more. And the white wolf is right where we want him.”
These two were certifiably batshit, but he couldn’t underestimate them. They’d managed to lure the previous white wolf into a trap. And if his math was right, Charles had to be around one hundred and thirty or so. Not ancient, since wolves had twice the lifespan of humans, but past his prime. It was the mage who worried him more. There was no telling the extent of her power. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Zoe tugging on the cuffs, her gaze darting from him to her captors.
“Now where were we before we got sidetracked?” Solange tapped her bottom lip. “How do I control your little human friend?” She lifted the pendant around her throat. “This is no ordinary ruby. It contains a drop of her blood and my magic.” Slowly closing her fingers around it, she squeezed.
Zoe gasped and coughed before grabbing her throat. Her eyes bulged, filled with terror.
“Let her go,” he demanded, unable to maintain his air of cool disinterest in the face of her distress.
Solange gave a delighted laugh and opened her hand. Zoe dropped to her side, sucking air into her lungs. His wolf howled inside him. Outwardly, he appeared calm. Inwardly, he seethed, struggling to contain his emotions. The last thing these two needed was more ammunition to use against them. If they had any inkling how much he loved Zoe, they’d use the knowledge to torture them both.
And he did love her. Losing her had been like having his heart ripped out of his chest.
“I knew you’d form a connection to her. I made her especially for you.” She pointed at Devlin. “After your transition, I followed and watched you. Poor boy. All alone.” Her laugh was cold. “I obtained a sample of your blood after you cut yourself on a scythe when you were living with that human family.” She scrunched up her nose when she said the word human. “You healed fast but there was enough for me to collect what I needed. Werewolf blood disintegrates outside the host, but I used my magic to preserve it.
“When the time was right, and all the signs were in alignment, I found a suitable human couple and cast a spell.” She clapped her hands together like a child, pleased with her accomplishment. “It’s so perfect. She carries a drop of your blood, giving her the same coloring. Like the lone wolf, she’s always felt apart, cast out by those around her. Ripe for the picking when you came along.”
If that was true, it begged another question. “You’re the reason there are three lone wolves, aren’t you?” He had to keep the mage talking. If he attacked her or Charles, Zoe was dead.
“Something went wrong. I was so sure.” She shook her head. “I salvaged the situation as best I could, splitting the energy of the lone wolf and sending its essence in three different directions. Sharing it between the three of you should’ve diluted the power, made you easier to subdue. But that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
“It belongs to me,” Charles roared and thumped his chest. “I’ve waited decades, built an empire in service to this moment. All this is because of me.”
Shit, he was close to losing it. Even Solange took a step back as Charles’s fangs dropped and fur rippled over his face.
“Why,” Zoe began, her tone wry, “do the bad guys always feel the need to give ‘the speech?’” She made quotation marks with her fingers. Beaten, choked, and bruised, her spirit still shone brighter than the sun. “Not exactly original.”
Howling, Charles leaped toward her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
With a ragged curse, Zoe threw herself to the side. She wasn’t fast enough. Pointed fangs and razor-sharp claws were going to tear her apart. His hot breath fanned her face. There was nowhere for her to go. No escape.
Devlin rammed into her attacker, sending him careening into the wall. Metal screeched and buckled under the force of the impact. Charles didn’t stay down, immediately rolling to his feet. With a cruel smile, he ripped off his suit jacket and shirt. “I’ve waited years, a lifetime, for this. I’ll take your power and kill your woman.”
Seemingly unfazed by the threat, Devlin stood in front of her, partway between her and the other two. If he went after his opponent, he’d leave her vulnerable to the mage. He was big and strong and smart, but these opponents were unlike any other he’d ever faced. And his focus was split between fighting and protecting her.
Damn it, she hated this. There had to be a way to help. No way was she about to sit here and play the helpless victim. Her wrists were already bruised and slippery with blood from where the metal cuffs had cut into her skin. Steeling herself—because this was going to hurt like a son of a bitch—she yanked as hard as she could. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming while watching the scene unfold before her.
“Stop, Charles. This is not the plan.” He growled and took a step forward, ignoring Solange’s plea. Her green eyes narrowed, and her lips flattened into a thin line. Gripping the pendant in her hand, she began to chant.
Zoe braced herself for pain, but the mage wasn’t focused on her this time. The floor began to glow, as if illuminated by some internal source. Strange symbols were etched on every surface—floor, walls, and ceiling. This was so not good.
“Will you fight, wolf?” Charles taunted. He stripped off the remainder of his clothes. “Or will you accept your fate?” Brown and gray fur rippled over his skin. He fell forward, his body transformed into that of a large wolf.
White fur rippled over Devlin’s back. “No!” she yelled. “Don’t shift.” Maybe she’d seen too many paranormal television shows and movies, but this entire setup was staged. “It’s a trap. They want to trap you in your wolf form.” She pushed to her feet, ignoring the way the room spun around her. Would he listen? He was a primal beast at heart, a combination of angry male and alpha wolf. Backing down was a foreign concept. He didn’t retreat, he attacked.
Every muscle in his upper body stood out in stark relief. She inched along the wall until she could see him better while maintaining distance from the others. His chest rose and fell. Sweat gleamed on his skin. His face might as well have been carved from stone. Cold and emotionless. The white wolf. Bringer of justice to all werewolves. The bogeyman in their closets and under their bed. A power both feared and coveted.
But he was so much more. Beneath the exterior lay pure molten heat and a heart as wide as the ocean. He was the man she loved. I made her especially for you. The mage’s words echoed in her ears. She carried a drop of his blood in her body.
Screw it, none of that mattered. She trusted her heart.
White fur rippled and again disappeared, leaving the man behind. He was fighting his natural inclination. Because she’d asked. They were at a stalemate, all four of them facing off. The symbols came alive and began to pulse and spin. Solange, eyes closed, kept chanting.
Uncaring about the consequences, Zoe ran toward her, locked her bound hands together, and swung. At the last second, the mage’s eyes popped open, and she jerked back, but not far enough. Zoe’s fisted hands struck the other woman in the jaw, sending her flying backward. She landed hard, her ass skidding across the floor. “Take that, bitch!”
“Zoe!” Devlin roared.
Shit, she was too close to the wolf. She ducked and tried to retreat, but the beast rammed into her. The impact was hard. A bone snapped in her arm. She screamed—the pain so sharp and hard she almost passed out. Her vision dimmed as the black edges threatened to close in.
A howl ripped through the air. Devlin!
Sucking air into her lungs, she cradled her arm against her body and struggled to stand. Growling and snarling, the two men were locked in combat—one wolf and one man. Fangs and claws ripped at skin and fur. Blood flowed, but it didn’t slow them down. Devlin hadn’t shifted beyond claws and fangs. She gave a prayer of thanks even as she struggled to breathe.
Solange was back on her feet and chanting again. One of the high heels on her shoes had snapped so she was limping and disheveled. The button on her jacket was gone, leaving it open and exposing her bare breasts. Her flaming hair fell around her shoulders. Her voice was hard and determined.
I have to stop her.
You can’t win. Ignoring the voice of doom in her head, she limped forward. Devlin couldn’t fight them both at the same time. Staggering, she raised her bound hands once more.
An agonizing howl stopped her in her tracks. The scene unfolded in slow motion.
Devlin’s clawed fist slammed into the chest of the wolf.
“Charles!” Solange screamed. “Stop or I’ll kill her.”
Devlin froze. Blood poured out of the wolf’s open chest.
The mage tore the chain from her neck and held the pendant high. “Let him go or the woman dies.”
“Don’t do it,” Zoe cried. She dropped to her knees as pain gripped her chest. “Kill him,” she whispered as she toppled over.
“You can either kill Charles or possibly save her. What will you do?” Solange taunted. The ruby pendant hit the ground inches from Zoe’s face. She tried to reach out and grab it but couldn’t move. A sharp shoe heel stomped down. The ruby shattered.
A roar reverberated over the pounding in her ears. Pain exploded outward from the center of her chest. Her lungs seized. Her heartbeat slowed, each beat agonizing.
Then it stopped and the world went dark.
…
Devlin howled and yanked his hand back, letting the wolf fall to the ground at his feet. Zoe wasn’t moving. The mage’s words echoed in his ears. You can either kill Charles or possibly save her. What will you do? There was no choice.
Skidding to his knees, he gathered Zoe in his arms. He couldn’t hear a heartbeat. He couldn’t hear anything other than the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Her head fell back, her body limp.
“Don’t do this, baby,” he pleaded. He peppered her face with kisses. “Come back to me.” The world would be too dark without her to brighten it.
His wolf howled inside him. The tattoo on his chest began to throb. She carries a drop of my blood. They shared a link. His blood was healing. It was a crazy idea, one that could potentially kill her.
Death was already reaching out its cold, bony fingers. If biting her would turn her into a werewolf, he’d do it without hesitation, but that was nothing more than myth.
The tattoo throbbed again and began to glow. Manifesting a claw, he dragged it over the mark of the lone wolf and raised her head. “Drink from me, Zoe. Please.” He rubbed her lips over blood, unsure if she was ingesting any of it. The small wound healed, so he scored his chest again.
“No!” Solange screamed. “I want that power. Give it to me.” She ran at him, a gold jewel-encrusted knife clutched in her hand. Charles was on his side, breathing heavily, the flow of blood slowing but not stopping.
Devlin slammed his hand outward, catching her in the chest and sending her flying backward. She hit the floor hard but scrambled back to her feet.
Help me, he pleaded with whatever force existed inside him.
Will you die for her?
Yes. Anything. Just save her.
Solange came at him again and drove the knife into his back. His spine arched. A blinding light exploded outward from the wound. The knife flew out of his body, spun in midair, and sped back toward the mage. She tried to get out of the way, and almost succeeded, but wasn’t fast enough. It buried deep in her shoulder. The impact sent her skidding across the floor.
Light surged through every cell of his body, pouring out of his skin. Agony ripped through him. Energy slammed into the ground around him like bolts of lightning. Wild winds howled, whipping every inch of exposed flesh.
He held on to Zoe with all his strength. If this was to be his last breath, he wanted to be with her. Cradling her in his arms, he buried his face in her hair. “I love you,” he whispered, not even trying to make himself heard over the roar of the paranormal storm encircling them. “I don’t care if it was magic and greed that brought us together. I’m glad I found you. Even if it was only for a few days, it was worth it.”
She wasn’t coming back. Death had taken her. Throwing back his head, he howled his pain and defiance into the face of the storm. “Why?” he roared. All the fight bled out of him. There was nothing left for him here. He surrendered to the tempest and reached for death.
Mark her. The urge was too powerful to ignore. When wolves mated, the male marked his female. She was no wolf, but she was his mate. Lowering his head, he pierced her skin with his fangs.
A single tear rolled down his cheek and landed on her face. He withdrew and dragged his tongue over the marks to heal them. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” It was his greatest failure, and the only one that truly mattered.
