Page 40 of Craved By a Wolf

Until sleeping with her had no effect and he had to take her to the witch to end his suffering.

He growled through his emerging fangs, despair swift to flood him as he realised how hopeless it was. Even if he wanted to deny the witch, which he did, he couldn’t. It would be the death of him.

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Betraying his fated one would be the death of him too.

There had to be another way.

But the more he thought about it, the more his situation began to feel like another cage, and the shadows locked deep within him fed on his rising panic as everything closed in on him. They grew stronger as he battled them, until they began to unfurl dark tendrils that reached into the very pit of his soul. Sharp tendrils that pierced him and held him, dragging him down into the mire. He stared at the pavement, losing sight of the world around him as the shadows seemed to engulf him.

Devour him.

This curse was another cage. No. It was worse than any physical restraint.

Restraints he could break. Cages he could escape. This curse felt inescapable. Whatever he did, he would lose—either his life or his mate.

His eyebrows knitted hard and he clenched his jaw as his claws pressed into his knees. There was a third option. There had to be. He just needed to find a way to end this curse without sacrificing himself or losing his mate. He refused to listen to the dark whispers that taunted him, trying to hold him within the cage of his memories, and steeled his heart. He would find a way. The voices grew distant and quietened, and the shadows fell away as he gathered his strength and shirked his past, letting it roll off him as he focused on his future.

On moving forwards.

Kin pushed to his feet and lifted his head, intending to mull everything over and find a solution to his problem while he searched for the king’s men.

Only he spotted a group of five blond nymphs ahead of him, all of them wearing only green leather trousers, with daggers strapped to their hips. They drew the glances of every woman who passed them, looking every bit the bastard fae they were as they seduced them with easy smiles and murmured comments.

Kin narrowed his eyes on one of the long-haired males as he turned side-on to him.

He recognised the crest on the dark brown sheath of his dagger.

And grinned.

He needed a method of winning Hella over and needed to blow off some steam, unleashing the aggression and anger he felt whenever he thought about his situation, and the gods had just placed five of them in his path.

He rolled his shoulders, twisted his neck, and flexed his fingers into fists and clenched them, causing his forearms to tense beneath his navy Henley.

Kin strode towards the males, his focus narrowing down to them, the rest of the world falling away as he drew down deep breaths, gearing up for a fight. His gaze leaped over each male, cataloguing everything from their height and build, to their potential age.

And the fact all of them were armed with only daggers.

Score a point for him.

He stretched his fingers and his claws emerged, his own little daggers. His wolf side paced back and forth, hungry for contact, snarling and growling as he closed the distance between him and the nymphs. His mate feared these males finding her. No more. He would eliminate them, protecting her and showing her that he could be trusted.

And earning her gratitude.

Everything hinged on that.

He needed to win her over with the prize he intended to present to her and then she would fall into his arms, would welcome his kiss and so much more.

But first, he had to secure that prize.

MacKinnon walked up to the biggest of the blond males, cocked his fist and smashed it into the side of his head, cutting him off mid-sentence and knocking him into one of his comrades. A heartbeat passed and then pandemonium erupted, all five nymphs turning on him as one as they processed what he had just done.

He grinned and leaped backwards as one lunged at him, easily evading his wild swing. The other four were quicker to gather their wits, including the largest nymph. He came at Kin on a furious bellow, unsheathing his dagger at the same time, and slashed the silver blade through the air at stomach height the moment he was close enough to land a blow. Kin sucked his stomach in and bowed his body away from the dagger, his arms coming forwards to balance himself. The moment the threat had passed, he leaned his upper body backwards, brought his left leg up and slammed his shin into the nymph’s stomach. The male grunted. Kin followed through and sent the bastard flying towards the lake.

He continued to turn, brought his foot down and pressed it to the flagstones and brought his right leg up, higher than his first kick had been. He nailed another of the nymphs in his face. Blood and what looked a hell of a lot like a tooth flew from the male’s mouth and he went down, coughing and spluttering, painting one of the pale flagstones crimson.

The youngest looking nymph, a male who had been keeping back, took one look at his fallen comrades and charged Kin on a battle cry, his dagger held before him in both trembling hands. A greenhorn.

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