Page 75 of Depraved
I don’t have time to ponder it because he tackles me to the ground. I grunt as the air flies out of my lungs.
Jonah’s ragged gasps become the loudest sound in the room for a second as Thomas licks his chops.
I force myself to tune the sound of Jonah suffering out, to let my anger become a blizzard swirling around me, a storm of hate, flecks of fury, cold white pinpricks of rage spinning through the air. The tempest swallows up anything more than two feet away until all I can see is little Thomas.
He chuckles madly, as alphas tend to do when they’re in a bloodlust. His fangs are tinged a light pink, and as his lips pull back, a cloud of his foul, copper-tainted breath mists the air between us.
I weigh my next move carefully because I don’t want to kill him quickly, but Jonah’s in a bad way. Maybe I should.
His claws come down, and I reach between them, swiveling my arms out in a basic block to deflect him so he can’t grab my neck.
Moving quickly, I jerk upward. He thinks I’m going for his throat and ducks his head, but I’m not. Most shifters only think to fight like animals. They forget that we’re also humans. Instead of using my teeth, I tuck down my wolf snout and slam my forehead into his.
Fuck.
Red sparks burst at the edges of my vision, and my stomach lurches uncomfortably, but it’s worth it when I see the dazed look in Thomas Stone’s eyes.
He climbs off me and stumbles away. I quickly push to my feet and follow, glancing around for a weapon. But there aren’t even any sharp thin stilettos in this place. Just gauzy veils and dresses shaped like ice-cream swirls.
Thomas rushes at me, and I shove a free-standing rack of tiaras at him.
He snarls but doesn’t say a word. Not a smack-talker like his father? Or just not a fighter? Being the alpha’s little son, I doubt he’s had to be in a lot of fights. Who would have wanted to piss off Stone? A vicious smile crosses my face as I realize that.
Going up against Jonah, whatever the fuck Jonah is right now, isn’t the same as going up against an alpha who’s paved his own way in blood.
I grunt and use little Tommy’s temporarily stunned condition to my advantage, lunging forward and grabbing just one of his claws. I snap one of his fingers in under a second, breaking the bottom bone in half, before darting back.
I drink in his delightful scream of pain and frustration.
Yes. That’s right. Every joint in your motherfucking body is going to scream before we’re done.
I snarl, egging him on, trying to get him to rush at me.
But he doesn’t. He darts to the side, and I watch him reach through a long straight rack of dresses and yank, pulling Elena through from the other side by her forearm. She shrieks and gives a pained grunt as he pulls her through the narrow gap between two skirts, tumbling to her knees as his clawed hand reaches for her neck.
Shit.
No.
My confidence is plucked raw, and fear becomes a dizzy clamor in my head as I watch Thomas Stone touch my mate.
What the fuck was she even doing there? Why wasn’t she back helping Jonah? I’m furious with myself. The second I stepped into this shop, I should have given her the order to run outside, but I didn’t even think of it. Because what omega in their right mind would go after an alpha?
My little spitfire, that’s who.
Like talons, his fingers wrap around her throat, and every piece of my anatomy clenches. Bombs go off inside my head, laying waste to any rational thought as I launch toward them.
Thomas starts to lift her up by her neck, making her gasp as she struggles to her feet. I want to barrel into him, but I stop short because I can see the claw he has over her artery. All it will take is a slip of his hand. And if I’m right and those claws are coated in silver dust, it could get into her major artery. Even if she shifted, the silver would pump so quickly through her veins that blood poisoning could set in.
I force my limbs to freeze, and it’s like throwing up a wall in front of a speeding truck. I screech to a halt that goes against my very nature.
A slow, crazed smile overtakes Thomas Stone’s face as he inhales Elena’s scent. “Omega. So pretty.”
His second claw, the one with the broken finger, drags up her side as he holds her between us like a shield. I can’t see her face because her back is to me, and it’s killing me.
The claw that traced up her side grabs one of her hands, bringing her delicate fingers to his mouth. His teeth open—
Jonah bursts out of the wedding dresses behind Thomas. One arm is across his own slashed stomach, and that arm is slick with blood. But the other arm drives his sharp claws into Thomas’s flank, ripping downward.
