Page 4 of The Piece You Stole

Is he thinking about Saige?

Haunted blue eyes swim in my vision.

Ours.

A snarl of fury works its way up my throat.

Someone took her. Had to be the same shifters she was running from before, because who the fuck else could it be?

Ignoring the hot splash of blood dripping to the hardwood floor, I reach for Kade, the man, and drag him out of the wolf. Two seconds later, I rise naked from the ground and stalk over to where Dariel has Aden pinned to the ground.

My side throbs and burns with each step, but I barely feel it.

Diffuse the situation first, find out what the fuck happened to Saige, and then plug up any bleeding holes. Those are the priorities.

Along the way, I bend and snatch up a table leg. Just because Dariel has stopped his attack, doesn’t mean he’s stopped being a threat. Anytime he’s a wolf, he’s a threat to everyone around him. Us included.

“How?” I demand.

An echo of Dariel’s roar hours ago rolls around my head.She’s nothing.

Like fuck she’s nothing,I mentally snort. Whether or not Dariel wants to admit it, Saige means something to him.Andto his wolf. Something stopped his attack, and that something was Saige.

“Aden!” I snap. “How!”

My order seems to shake something loose in Dariel’s head. He peels his lips from his mouth, baring his teeth in a rumbling snarl.

Tightening my hands around the wood chair leg, I swing, and I swing fucking hard.

Dariel flies off Aden’s body, his head ramming the side of the bar so hard it punches a Dariel-sized hole in the wood. I nod. Better than a tap on the head. A lot better. But it could do with a little something more.

“Don’t get up, Dariel. I don’t want to do this,” I mutter as I stalk toward the downed white wolf, hefting the wooden leg in both hands. I test a swing.

Whoosh.

It doesn’t have the balance of a baseball bat, but it’ll do. After Dariel nearly ripped Aden’s throat out? It’ll more than do. “Fuck it, I lied. Idowant to do this, so get up, motherfucker. Getup.”

Dariel staggers to his feet, but his legs almost immediately collapse beneath him.

Not yet.

Dariel surges up again with a pain-filled growl. This time he stays up.

Just a little more.

He spins toward me, stumbling a little. Not quite steady.

Perfect.

My next swing explodes the wooden chair leg, raining chips all over me, tiny flecks flying into my eye. But it does the job.

Dariel drops to the ground without a sound.

Like I said, we shifters have hard heads. You need to do the job right to put us down.

But even this isn’t enough.

“You need help?” Aden sounds like he’s up and moving behind me.

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