Page 89 of Taken By The Wolves
Behind him, Nixon prowls closer in wolf form, his silver fur rippling with tension, his low growl vibrating through the ground beneath me. Other wolves fan out behind him. Bears, too. Some shift into their human forms, retrieving weapons from concealed stashes, while others remain beasts, their dark shapes looming like shadows.
“I’ll carve her open,” Gregory warns. “Don’t test me.”
Finn lifts his hands. “You can talk, Gregory. Talk. But don’t take another step toward that door.”
I glance behind us.
The cabin.
He’s trying to get to Ahya.
Finn takes a step closer, leaning in like he’s about to whisper a secret. “The wolves care what happens to Scarlet. The bears? They’ll trade her blood for yours in a heartbeat.”
Gregory growls, dragging me closer to the porch. He’s distracted now, arguing, and gloating. Finn keeps talking, pacing a little, forcing Gregory to turn as he watches him. He’s almost to the door.
And then it happens.
The front door explodes outward.
I’m jerked forward so hard that I lose my footing. Gregory’s arms, which were tight around me, loosen as the knife drops and spears the dirt at my feet. I stumble forward, barely catching myself before my face hits the ground. I hear the crunch before I see the blood as Gregory is lifted off his feet, his scream gurgling into nothing.
Hunter?
He shakes Gregory like a rag doll, once, twice, three times, and then the snapping sound is final. The alpha’s head is torn from his body, his warm blood arcing like a fountain, soaking my chest, my face, my hands.
The head rolls past me.
And everything fades.
The last thing that fills my vision before I pass out is Nixon, covered in blood, his wolf eyes fixed on me like I’m the only thing left in the world that matters.
45
NIXON
I reach her after she hits the ground.
Her body is limp, soaked in blood that isn’t hers, thank the gods, and I lift her into my arms like I’ve done so many times before, but never like this. Never with the copper sting of spilled life in the air. Never with the imprint of another man’s violence still fresh on her skin.
Scarlet is unconscious, her head lolling against my shoulder as I stride into the cabin. Her bloodstained waves are stuck to her cheeks, and every part of me is shaking with a rage I can’t unleash. Not yet. Not when she needs me.
Cami parts the way with a nod, her eyes heavy with knowledge. Goldie is in the corner, rocking Ahya and her babies, and whispering soft comforts as the children whimper.
Finn and Robert carry Reed into the kitchen, his body limp and blood-soaked. I reach out for his mind and find it, weakened but still linked to mine.
Fight, brother, I urge him.Fight for your life, for our mate, forour family. Fight because we need you, and it isn’t your time. Fight to stay with us, brother.
“Make him strong again,” I tell Cami and the bear mystic. They’re already pulling poultices and potions from their bags.
I head straight for the bathroom. The door closes behind me with a snap, and I step into the shower with Scarlet fully clothed in my arms. Warm water cascades over us, washing away blood in rivulets that stain the tiles and the floor with a river of red.
Her breathing is shallow, her lips pale, but she’s alive. She’s mine. Still mine.
I cradle her beneath the falling spray, letting it soak us through. She stirs, a soft whimper catching in her throat as her eyes flutter open.
“Nixon…”
“I’ve got you,” I whisper against her temple.
