Page 87 of Wild Wolf

“Yes,” I choked out, looking away, glancing at the door which had finally fallen still.

Silence reigned beyond it. Had the thing which had been so desperate to gain entrance to this place gone or was it out there still?

“This way, sir,” Plunger called, beckoning me after him as he scampered across the room, drawing open a door I hadn’t even noticed beyond the cabinets that lined the back wall.

Plunger dove through it and I was left with no choice but to follow him.

We stepped out into a brightly lit corridor where numbers lined a row of doors, though they ran in no sequence I could discern.

Plunger seemed to know precisely where he was headed though, scurrying along, the slap, slap, slap of his bouncing cock punctuating his steps.

I gagged again, pressing the back of my hand to my lips to stifle the noise as I followed as close to him as I could bear to place myself.

Plunger hurried all the way to the end of the corridor then pointed at a door marked with a number twelve which seemed oddly fitting after all that we had suffered to get here.

I rallied my strength, casting a blade of ice in my hands before nodding at Plunger to get him to open the door.

I bellowed a battle cry as I charged into the room, the sight of Sin and his brother on two tables there only causing me to pause for half a second.

There were Fae in medical scrubs surrounding them, bloody blades poised over chests which were being cut open right before me.

Vard cried out, lunging at me, a jar clutched in his arms which sparkled with golden light. He threw a fist at me but the sound of Sin bellowing my name, the sight of his open chest and the group of Fae content to go along with this horror show consumed me just as the memory of Plunger’s balls tickling the back of my throat rose its head once more and I vomited straight into his face.

Vard yelled out, throwing himself backwards while Plunger tackled the closest nurse, taking him to the ground.

“Come here, puppy dog!” Sin called, a big smile aimed my way despite the clamps currently holding his chest cavity open. I latched onto that smile, that one point of brightness in this sea of sick depravity.

I swung my arm back then hurled the ice blade at him as hard as I could, my years of training on the Pitball pitch serving me well as my aim stayed true. The blade severed the leather strap securing Sin’s wrist and the Incubus called my name to the heavens in praise.

“Hasslings, you’re a miracle man!” he yelled and okay, he’d gotten my name a little wrong, but I’d done it! I’d found him and freed him and followed the destiny which Rosalie had set out for me and-

I barely registered the man who ran at me from the corner of the room, only realising he was at my back as a fist coated in stone collided with my skull. And everything fell into darkness.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

Iwas battered, exhausted but still full of all the wrath of battle. This beast wouldn’t get the best of me. I was a Shadowbrook and Gustard was nothing but a ghost in the shell of a monster.

He swung at me with bloody claws and I ducked back, missing the attack by mere inches, but despite losing a hand, he had still landed plenty of blows. I was torn between healing myself just enough to continue the fight and not burning myself out of magic before the moon could restore it. I ran as often as I could, letting the light of the moon seep into my skin and recharge me, but there wasn’t time to run enough. Gustard kept coming, throwing his weight at me and trying to get me off my feet. I never stopped moving, side stepping and blasting him with shards of ice.

His skin was torn from my attacks but still, he didn’t slow. His body was a machine built for war, and I was the sole soldier in his sights.

He swung for me again and I cast a shield of ice against my arm a beat before his claws impacted. The shield shattered, taking the worst of the hit, but Gustard’s hand closed around my arm and he swung me at the wall of the tower.

I slammed into it, my head cracking against the stone and blood wetting my mouth as I slumped into the snow at its base.

Fuck.

Get up.

Come on, get up.

My limbs were leaden, the world spinning too fast for me to see straight. The hulking shape of Gustard closed in on me and my hands wouldn’t react as I willed them to move. For magic to rush into my fingertips and blast an attack at this monster who had dared laid hands on my mate. He’d had his vile gang beat her in Darkmore, had left her bloody and bruised, and would have done far worse to her had he gotten the chance.

The thought of it alone set my blood boiling, my heart rioting with the need to protect her from Gustard once and for all. To seek vengeance on him for all he’d done to her, all he’d ever thought to do to her.

The crushing blow of his claws slammed against my head and I was knocked sideways, tossed like a ragdoll onto the ground while my vision swum even more. The hot, wet drip of blood slid down my neck and I knew what this came down to. A second, nothing more. That was how long I had left to act or death would come for me as swiftly as the wings of a nightingale and steal me away into the nevermore.

I didn’t belong there. Not yet. Not while my Rosa still breathed. I would remain at her side, I would be her protector, her mate, her warrior.

---