Page 72 of Vicious Wolf Mate

“Where is Mckenna?” I snarl.

He grins. “She’s perfectly safe with your dead friend’s girlfriend.”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Gnash reacts before I can. I don’t know how my sanity is still held together. I thought I would already be in my wolf form. This lab and Rovas would be nonexistent.

He lunges at Rovas, already shifting. Drario and I hold him back by the arms, by a thread. He snarls and growls, almost foaming at the mouth. His face is red and the veins on his forehead pop.

“Wait, wait, wait. Not now, Gnash,” I regrettably say.

“Let me go! I’m going to tear this bastard's throat out!”

His breathing is hard. He tries to shove us off but our grip is firm. The fur grows on his back.

“Not yet, Gnash. It’s still not the right time. You’ll get your chance.”

I have half a mind to just let him go and kill Rovas. As much as it pains me to not avenge Jax at this very moment, it’s not logical. This piece of shit has something up his sleeve.

Gnash calms down, by a thread.

“That’s quite a promise to your friend. You sound confident in getting rid of me.”

“What do you want?” I ask Rovas.

He shrugs mockingly. “Nothing. You three are loose ends. All that’s left for you is to die.”

On cue, the doors from the other side burst open. A large group of armed men, with fucking shields, march inside. The symbol of Insignys is on their armor. Great, more of Rovas’ cronies.

Without warning, they shoot at us. The three of us take cover in different places. I duck behind a large barrel. Gnash and Drario flip over the table to find a safe spot.

One of the bullets graze my arm. My eyes search everywhere for any weapon. There's nothing for me to reach. The bullets come harder.

I have to make it back to Mckenna.

50

MCKENNA

This is terrible. I am still in the office with the skinny-blonde-tramp-thing. Natalie. The upside is that it is dead silent. Just being near the girl makes me want to scrub my tongue, scrub my whole body, de-sanitize my clothes. Even sitting a few feet apart from her blonde skinny-ass gives me the creepy crawlies.

The alarms kick in. First far away. Then they are blaring close, throughout the whole complex.

Mace.

My main concern is Mace. I can help him. I am the only one who can actually help him. The alarms going crazy have me thinking the worst.

A fist or an elbow across Natalie’s jaw would free me up.

The problem is the fancy, lightweight, easy to wield smoke-wagon on the desk in front of the blue-eyed bitch, aimed right at me. I know she’ll be as lightning-fast with the gun as she is getting under the sheets with wealthy older men.

“Yeah,” says Natalie, looking right at me with her slutty, hideous smirk. “I know who you’re thinking about. You’re thinking about wolf-boy. Those alarms mean someone’s about to finally shoot his ass.”

I don’t know if it’s Natalie’s trampy voice, or her condescending attitude, but something she says triggers an idea for me.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, hot sauce,” I tell her flatly. “My thoughts are way more selfish than that. Wolf-boy can fend for himself, and now that I think about it, he prefers being Han Solo anyway. I’m still shocked that my father would have me killed.”

“Really?” says the skinny-blonde-tramp-thing. “I kind of figured you for a daddy’s girl type who ruined everything. Rovas gave you a mile, and you took ten miles, breaking the camel’s back. Putting you away has been needing to happen for a while.”

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