Page 56 of Prey of the Lycan Queen
“Hey, boy. Daddy’s here,” I assure him, stroking his fevered fur. I need to cool him down, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. “Hang on, boy. I’ll find a way to cool you down.”
A breeze carries a tantalizing whiff of water to my senses. I look around and find a dam at the bottom of the mountain.
I carry Gnash back to the car and climb in with him. We have a chance. We just need to reach that water to cool him down.
The drive to the bottom of the mountain is a haze of fear and worry as James drives. Gnash is panting heavily in my lap, the air conditioner doing little to help him. I can only hope we’re not too late.
As the car races down the slope, the dam comes into sight. It’s more like a large pond set in the middle of a sprawling farm. James skids to a halt at the edge of the property, the tires sending up clouds of dust. I’m already out of the car before it comes to a complete stop, my heart pounding in my chest.
With a quick leap, I scale the rickety wooden fence, the hard-packed earth of the farm crunching under my boots. Gnash is a heavy, feverish burden over my shoulder, but I don’t dare slow down.
The water of the dam is murky but cool, a welcome relief from the blistering sun. I wade into it, the water lapping around my knees, then my waist. With a splash, I lower Gnash into the water, cradling him against my chest. The sudden chill seems to spark a bit of life into him. His eyes flutter open, meeting mine with a flicker of recognition.
“You’ll be fine, boy,” I promise him, my voice choked with emotion.
Looking at Gnash’s battered paws, raw and bloody, I realize the extent of his determination to get to Zirah.
I take a deep breath and sink my teeth into my wrist, the metallic taste of my blood filling my mouth. It’s a desperate move that could risk my life, but I need to try. I offer my bleeding wrist to Gnash who laps up the blood weakly.
“Come on, boy,” I tell him, stroking his wet fur. “You’ve done well.” I can feel the drain as he absorbs my life essence, strengthening him.
My vision blurs around the edges, but I grit my teeth and hold on. I’ll deal with the consequences later.
Eventually, James comes to drag us out of the dam and back into the car. The drive is a torturous crawl, every mile stretching into an eternity. An hour away from Bloodtaric, the car jerks violently.
“Damn it!” James curses as the car limps to the side of the road, the hiss of a deflated tire filling the air. My heart sinks as I step out, surveying the damage. The rear tire is completely flat, the rubber shredded and useless.
“Please tell me you have a spare,” I say, looking at James. He just shakes his head, a grimace on his face.
“This is just perfect,” I mutter, kicking at the gravel. The universe has a sick sense of humor today. However, there’s no time to wallow. “I guess we’re walking,” I snarl.
“What about your father?” James asks, and I curse when I hear a car coming down the mountain. James turns, looking at the mountain too.
“Seems luck isn’t completely against us.”
“Thank the Fates. I am parched and could use a snack,” James announces, and I glance at him. “What? I’ve healed your father, healed guards, her brother, but I don’t see anyone offering a vein.” I growl at his words, and he huffs.
“Fine, I won’t bite,” he pouts when I see a huge Ram truck coming toward us.
Perfect, I move to the side of the road and wave to see if they can give us a lift. Music pumps from its speaker, and it eventually slows down. I move to speak to the driver only to see it is a young man in his early twenties with a Mohawk. He smirks as I approach before taking off. I snarl, turning to James, who tosses his hands in the air.
“Jerk!” James calls out.
“Catch him, and you can eat him,” I say, and his lips turn up into a huge grin, his fangs poking past his lips.
The next second he’s gone, and I hear the brakes of the car screech. I lean against the hood, waiting. After a moment, the truck comes back into sight, and I laugh when I catch sight of James in the driver’s seat.
“Did he just . . .” Leila climbs out of the car.
“Asshole should have stopped.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The van’s tires screech as it comes to a sudden halt. My heart stalls then beats wildly. Every single fiber in my body protests as I roll across the unforgiving, cold metal floor of the van, hands bound in front of me.
I fight to break free from my binds, desperately hoping to escape my fate, but no matter how much I struggle, I can’t break free. My heart thunders as I muster a glance at my mates.
Their peaceful faces are a harsh contradiction to the dire reality we were entangled in, and seeing them incapacitated stirs a whirlwind of despair and rage within me.
