Page 32 of Vicious Wolf Mate

“What?” I say urgently.

What if they found us?

Jax points to a small window, one that looks like a basement’s. I squint my eyes and recognize Mckenna. Only, it isn’t her usually radiant face I see. It’s completely deformed and dripping red.

My heart rate goes through the rough. I breathe fast. I bury my hands in the sand.

“Mace, please calm down. We have to think clearly how—”

I don’t hear his last words. I shift and start snarling. I get tunnel vision and just head straight into the compound.

With the speed of my force, I break the walls of the room. Anyone who isn’t Mckenna, I kill them. I don’t give them a chance to shift before their heads are fucking ripped off.

She doesn’t react to my presence. Hell, how can she with two fucking black eyes? Seeing her state again makes me burn with rage again.

The room turns red itself. Mckenna can barely lift her eyes up at me. I maul another shifter through the abdomen when he tries to jump at me mid-shift.

I shake his limbs before throwing them off to the side. More shifters burst in the room. I’m ready to kill them all.

I hear Mckenna grunt. Instantly, I turn around to defend her. When I do, I stop dead on my track. Standing in front of me is someone I never thought I’d find here. Drario, my childhood best friend.

“Mace?” Drario asks.

22

MCKENNA

“Drario?” Mace asks. The growls and snarls stop as the two shifters stare at each other. Slowly, the other wolves in the room, some bleeding heavily, shuffle over to stand beside Drario.

“You’re the Alpha now?” Mace asks. “What happened to your father?”

“He’s dead.” Drario replies abruptly. “He passed many, many moons ago.” He adds.

Through swollen eyes, I can barely make out Mace’s face, but it is clear he is in shock. The fire in his eyes has dimmed even though blood and viscera still drips from his claws.

“Well damn.” Mace replies. “I guess congrats are in order.” Mace says. He then crosses the room and wraps Drario in a big hug.

After a tense second or two, Drario returns the gesture, slapping Mace on the back, a grin breaking out on his face.

“Hey boys,” I call out in a singsong voice. “This moment is really touching and all, but can someone please uncuff me now?” My voice cracks at the end of my little speech and I begin coughing.

Suddenly there is water at my lips, and I drink deep, letting the crisp, clean liquid wash away the metallic taste of my own blood.

“Remove them.” I hear a voice command. Drario’s, I think and I sag in relief as blood flow returns to my cramped arms.

A warm steaming cup is shoved into my hands and a no-nonsense voice commands me to “drink up.” The liquid is bitter, and I almost spit it out, but then a wonderful numbing sensation hits. Swallowing hard, I take another big swig.

Despite this, I feel a sharp sting over my left eye, and attempt to twist my head away. But a pair of strong hands to lock it in place. “This will be a lot easier if you remain still.” A harsh female voice bites out.

I force my swollen eyes open and see a middle-aged female shifter squatting next to me, needle and thread in one hand. “Good,” she says nodding before stabbing my eyebrow once more.

I grit my teeth and hiss, taking another shaky sip from my mug. Gazing about the room, I see bloody gauze and discarded needles everywhere as medics attend to shifters too wounded to heal on their own.

Mace is responsible for this carnage, I realize. Instead of being horrified at this, I find myself feeling a little proud. And happy? I feel my cheeks flush and try to convince myself that it is just the hot tea.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Mace plops down next to me. But his focus remains locked on Drario.

The other shifter’s gaze quickly flits from Mace, to me, and back again. He doesn’t say anything, but instead drags a metal chair over and places it in front of us, backwards. Then with a wide swing of his leg, he slides onto the chair.

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