Page 67 of Fenrir

“She’s escaping!” someone called.

“Grab her!” yelled her father.

Grace stumbled as she headed between two of the houses. The blade twisted, and she cried out but refused to go down. Getting caught meant death.

Keep going.She had to keep going.

CHAPTER19

Loki droppedto the ground at the forest’s edge, and Fenrir jumped off his back.

Loki looked at him and cocked an eyebrow.

“We are never, and I mean never, talking about that ever,” said Fenrir.

A slight smirk played across Loki’s lips, and he drew his fingers across them like he was zipping them shut.

Fenrir was not ready to admit he’d clung to his dad like a scared baby monkey. He was not ready to admit that he’d screamed like a banshee at one point, thinking he was slipping off. And he was absolutely not prepared to admit that on more than one occasion, he begged and even bribed Loki to try and get him to put Fenrir down. Nope. As far as he was concerned, what happened while flying stayed right there in the air.

“Do you know where she is?” Loki asked.

Fenrir gulped in a huge cleansing breath and pushed the terror of using his dad as a flying surfboard to the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his link to Grace. He’d just felt her terror when a scream rang out, and his eyes shot open.

“Grace!” Fenrir’s clothing shredded as he released his beast. Dozens of male shifter scents invaded him, but he pushed them aside and focused on her. It took a fraction of a second to catch her jasmine scent, only this time, the scent of burnt chocolate and blood accompanied it.

Fenrir roared. Loki’s twin blades flipped out of the air and into his hands.

“Go get her, Son.”

Fenrir nodded and tore into the woods. He dropped to all fours and raced through the trees. Sniffing and listening as he went, he caught the sounds of dozens of footsteps stomping around in the woods.

“Where is she?” a male called.

“She can’t have gotten far,” called another.

“Find her!” a deep voice boomed.

“I’ll go left,” Loki said, and before Fenrir could reply, his father leapt over a rock and bounded off a tree.

Fenrir sniffed again, but Grace’s scent had vanished. She was hiding. Good.

“I think I see-” A man in his twenties ran straight at Fenrir but stopped short at the sight of him. His eyes widened.

“You see her?” Another man who looked identical to the first stopped and followed his twin’s gaze.

Fenrir growled and drew up on two legs. The men bumped into each other as they backed up.

“What the hell is that?” The first asked.

The second man raised his hands and pointed a shotgun straight at Fenrir. He pulled the trigger, and Fenrir roared. He dodged the buckshot, but several pellets caught his thigh, and Fenrir leaped at both men simultaneously. He knocked them both to the ground, and the shotgun went off again next to Fenrir’s head, causing his hearing to go dead in that ear.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he crushed one of the twin’s windpipe, while ripping out the second’s throat. Blood splashed his face and chest, and Fenrir stood.

More yelling sounded several yards away. Without waiting, he tore off to find his next set of victims.

* * *

Grace gulpeddown a huge breath and looked around the edge of the tree trunk. Her heart beat so loud she wondered if her father and his sons could hear it. Her heartbeat was probably the only thing she couldn’t mask.

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