Page 53 of Pregnant Rejected Mate

“Who are you?” I grate menacingly, my chest heaving and falling with every rageful breath I take. Though I can’t remember his face, he appears to be one of the goons who’d helped Diego kidnap Sierra the first time.

“Who I am isn’t important,” he snickers, flashing a set of yellowing teeth at me as he comes closer. “What matters is that you’re here now, exactly where we need you to be.”

I glare fiercely at the man, my heart thundering with every breath I take. “What do you want?”

“You, of course,” he smirks.

As I glower at him, I catch the very subtle flit of his dark eyes as he glances quickly to the left. He thinks he’s smart, but I intercept the oncoming attack, dodging just in time to escape the sharp needle pointed at my neck.

The man on my right squeals when I grab him by the neck, flinging him into the nearest wall. Instead of crashing against the wall, his body morphs into a wolf, and he lands on four paws. He peels furry lips back to snarl at me just as the first man lunges forward and shifts mid-air.

Werewolves…

I should have recognized the damp, murky dog smell surrounding Diego’s house. When the first werewolf rushes toward me, I invoke the strength of my dragon, wielding my dragon wings from behind my shoulder blades to shield my body from his snapping teeth. The motion of wrapping my wings around me for protection inadvertently smacks the wolf out of the way.

He crashes against the wall in a whimpering pile of crackling ribs. The second one attacks then, charging forward with a warning howl. I spin on my heels, creating a vortex of power that knocks him unconscious long before he hits the wall.

I’ve barely had to shift into dragon form to take them on, blowing out a hot breath as my wings recede while I tower over the werewolf who still remains conscious.

“Where is she?!” I demand, just as the wolf shifts into human form. Scrambling against the wall, he clutches his neck and pants, his eyes full of horror.

I grab him by the neck as he chokes and splutters, and slam him against the wall. “Did you really think you could take on a dragon shifter?” I sneer venomously, tightening my grip on his neck as I glare ferociously into his troubled eyes. All he can manage is a terse shake of his head, sending droplets of blood from his bleeding mouth scattering around.

“Now tell me where Sierra is,” I grate through gritted teeth. All I can see is red—red, hot anger, fury, rage that will have me snapping this one’s neck like a twig.

He clearly didn’t anticipate my strength, the color seeping from his face as his eyes became almost lifeless.

“Where is she?!” I roar again, but it’s too late when, with one final sigh, the werewolf grows limp beneath my touch.

Grunting disgustedly and flinging his lifeless body aside, my breath comes in hot pants as I search the house for any sign of Sierra. With the two werewolves dead, the rest of the house remains empty. It’s only when I glance out from the living room window that I realize the red van isn’t in the driveway.

They haven’t come to Diego’s house.

Closing my eyes amid my turmoil, I focus on the mind link. Aidan, I need you to trace the location of the red van.

Already on it, Felix, he replies telepathically. It’s parked on the outskirts of town, Aidan proceeds to give me the address of some abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Charlottesville.

Tell my brothers we’re dealing with werewolves, I inform him. I’m pretty sure I can take them, but I’m gonna need backup to sweep the place when I’m done.

I return to the kitchen, pick up the syringe filled with a green, murky liquid from the floor, then shove it into my pocket. Whatever was going on, the werewolves had been prepared for my arrival, waiting for me with whatever the potion was. I’ll find out more about it later.

For now, I must save Sierra from the wolves. I must kill the man responsible for ousting our existence. Diego Alvarez is about to discover what happens when he betrays dragon shifters.

Especially when his daughter is the mate of one of them.

Chapter 22 - Sierra

“Dad?!” I exclaim when the bag covering my head is finally removed, and I find my father seated across from me. It barely comes as a surprise to see him, but I haven’t seen his face since the first time he kidnapped me.

Despite my suspicions, the journey to Louisa wasn’t as long as it should have been. I don’t even think we’d left Charlottesville. I couldn’t see much while being tied up and bagged, only feeling the moment the van stopped and I’d been dragged out along a sandy path.

“What’s going on?” I ask with a frown when I notice that Dad’s hands are tied behind him. My frown only deepens as the realization sinks in—Dad isn’t the culprit behind my kidnapping this time.

“Shh…” he urges lowly, eyes flitting around warily as one of the kidnappers comes over to secure the ropes binding me to the chair.

Through my periphery, I notice that the man is none other than one of my father’s goons. He marches over to my dad and checks his ropes before grunting as a parting remark before he disappears behind me.

I take account of our surroundings and realize that we’re in a dilapidated warehouse with empty steel shelves and broken crates all around us. There’s shuffling behind me, prompting me to glance as far back over my shoulder as possible. All I can see is a wall, the kidnappers probably behind it.

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