Page 46 of Striker

I turn and run.

Chapter 19

Delilah

Fear licks at myheels, my heart hammering faster than I can run. Loud laughter rings out behind me, reminding me that my fear is their fun.

My boot catches on a thick branch and I stumble, catching myself on a spindly tree, but it was enough to slow me down.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” Viper calls. “We just want to play, Sweetheart.”

My eyes lock on the break in the trees and the little squares of lights shining like yellow beacons from the windows of the mansion. I dig in, sprinting forward, but before I can break free, a hand slams over my mouth, muffling my scream. We stumble forward, bending over, but he keeps his footing. My legs fly out from under me as I’m slammed back to a broad chest, my head hitting hard muscles as a powerful arm wraps around my waist, pinning me to him.

“Naughty Kitten,” Reaper rasps in my ear, heavy breaths hitting my flesh like flames. “I caught you.”

I kick back but don’t have enough force behind it. My heel just grazes his shin, but it’s enough that he buckles slightly. My hands fly up and I grab his mask, ripping it away.

Reaper growls, this irritated, animalistic sound, grating through my back as he shoves me forward. My knees hit the dirt, my teeth gnashing together from the impact.

“I didn’t run!” I scream under his palm, but my words are cut off as he grips my throat, yanking me back into him, the back of my head hitting his hard length. Fear, and something dark, tangles up in my belly.

“Naughty Kitten, I just caught you running,” Reaper growls, fingers digging into my pulse. “Running through the woods, trying to escape.”

When he loosens his grip, I jerk away, falling to my hands and knees, small rocks and twigs cutting into my palms.

The slick sound of leather slipping through belt loops makes my blood freeze, my breathwhooshingfrom my chest. I look around, my mind tripping over itself, and I see Striker, Viper, and Breaker stalking forward from every direction, wolves coming in for the kill.

They surrounded me. Like hunters closing in on their prey.

“You're going to regret testing me,” Reaper says and slams his leather belt over my eyes, drawing it tight at the back of my head. I scream from the shock of his brutality, from being suddenly blindfolded, as he uses the belt to shove me forward. He drops with me, covering my back with his enormous body, until we’re both lying in the dirt, my face pressed to the earth under his palm. Reaper digs his hips into my backside, his erection pressing into my ass crack. I try to buck my hips to get him off me, but he’s absolutely massive.

“No no, little Kitten,” Reaper growls in my ear, grinding my cheek into the dirt. “You’ve been a brat for days, wanting our attention, and now you have it.”

With the belt covering my eyes, all my senses scream, every sound, smell, and taste heightened. I hear as the others approach, their boots cracking over the sticks and dried leaves. Taste the dirt as it slips past my lips. Smell the dry earth under my cheek. Feel his weight, his raw power and how, no matter what I do, there’s no escaping.

“I told you not to run,” Striker says. Dusty dirt hits my lips. The cracking of his leather boots near my head tells me he’s crouching. “Yet you chose to disobey.”

“No,” I croak out, barely able to form words, my heart’s thumping so hard in my throat.

“No?” Striker says, his tone close to mocking. He doesn’t even sound like how I remember him. None of them do. “No you didn’t run, or no… what Princess? No, don’t dirty your pretty nightgown or no don’t—”

“Where’s Cora?” I scream, the sound bloody and raw. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Breaker says from my right. I suck in a raspy breath as Reaper shifts upright. “Cora is in her room like you should be.”

Reaper’s hot breath fans over my face as he leans down again. His hips dig harder into my rear and I gasp, breathing leaves and dirt into my mouth. He’s so hard he feels rock solid against me. “Why did you run?”

“Answer him,” Viper says somewhere to my left. “Didn’t we tell you not to run?”

“Fuck you,” I manage between gasps, the gritty dirt in my mouth caking my lips. My fingers curl into the earth, nails digging in for purchase, but someone, Reaper I think, grabs my arms and twists them, pinning them to my lower back.

“God, she’s spicy,” Striker says. “I think she needs to be tamed a little more.”

“Fucking perverts,” I scream, but I choke on more dirt as I inhale.

Reaper’s grip on my wrists tightens, and he wrenches them up higher on my back, sending a sharp pain shooting to my elbows. I bite my sore lip, trying not to cry out from the pain.

My nightgown slips up, slowly sliding up my thighs. Cold air hits my exposed rear. My entire body stills. The entireworldhalts, all sounds fading until there’s only the faint chirp of birds, the distant cracking of branches rubbing together, and our ragged breathing.

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