Page 35 of The Secret of Pain

I spin slowly, making eye contact with each of them, taking note of the markings on those who are half turned, or in their human skin. There are twelve packs on this continent. All led by the Alpha of Alphas, Roman Knight. But some of these markings don't belong to the American packs. I don't even recognize some of them, but I can’t focus on that right now.

"We are pack," the first man who spoke growls, his voice more wolf than man. At his words, two of the shifted charge toward me.

I raise my swords, ready for their attack. They come at me from opposite sides, and I don't even think, I just feel. I raise one blade and drop one knee as the first jumps for my throat. My blade pierces their chest and I drag downward to the stomach, blood spraying around me, covering me, but I barely notice it as the other charges straight for me. It knocks into me, throwing me backward. I groan as I roll but end up crouched as it charges me again, and the half-turned woman runs at me too. I sheath the obsidian sword, and pull the gun from my thigh holster.

"Fuck this shit." I aim and fire, the woman almost looks stunned as the bullet hits her in the heart and she drops as the wolf bites down on my shoulder. I grit my teeth as it locks on. This isn't my first bite, but Fates, does that shit hurt. I swap hands on my gun and shoot the wolf between the eyes. The whine as it releases my shoulder and falls to the ground barely registers as I shoot two others who start moving toward me.

"Really? Do you have a death wish?" I shout to the others, but I can tell that the rage and blood lust have taken them. Fucking rogues.

"Guns are for the weak, Hunter. And there was me thinking the great and legendary Remington Bennett was more of a Hunter than that," the leader goads, but I roll my eyes, feeling the holes on my shoulder starting to close.

"Guns are for the clever, moron. But if you want to do this the old way, I am more than happy to kill you with my hands." I smirk and sheath my sword and gun.

"That ego is going to be the death of you," the other man on the edge of the clearing says quietly, but it still reaches me, like he knew it would, and I shrug.

"I earned my ego, pup."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he mutters and moves quicker than I've ever seen a Lycan move. I duck and feel his fist glance off of my wounded shoulder rather than my face where he was aiming, but I don't manage to escape the second fist to my ribs. I grit my teeth and pull a throwing knife from my hip.

Fuck this.

I jab at the Lycan, quick, fatal hits. Throat, thigh, chest. So quick he doesn't register until it’s too late. I feel movement behind me and throw the blade backward, then I hear the moment it hits its mark in the other man’s throat.

"I tried to warn you. I was even going to let you live to make better choices, but you fucking morons just couldn't take the out. Couldn't just go back to Roman. Now look at you." I shake my head and wipe some of the blood from my face, feeling it smear.

"You will regret this," the wolf at my feet utters, his breath labored.

"I don't think I will," I say, kneeling down to him and putting my hands on either side of his face. I twist, and the bones snap. He’d have bled out anyway so this seems kinder. I'm a Hunter, not a sadist.

The gurgled breath of the other wolf reaches me, and I sigh. I turn and head over to him, removing the blade from his throat and wiping it on my leather pants before tucking it away. He grabs my ankle, and his claws tear through my pants and Achilles. I bite my lip to stop from screaming but grab my gun and shoot the mother fucker between the eyes before falling backward onto my ass.

"Fuck!" I shout into the silence of the forest. There is no way that is going to heal quickly enough for me to get out of here on my own.

"You need a hand?" The voice echoes around the clearing, and my head droops.

"And you couldn't weigh in before now?" I bite out.

"You know I couldn't."

"Fucking bullshit faction politics."

"It is what it is."

"Are you going to help me or not?" I clench my teeth as I try to stand and fail.

"I will. I'm just cherishing this moment, when the great Remington Bennet needs my help." His dark hair reflects the moonlight, and his laugh does things to my body that it has no business doing. He sniffs my arousal as it peaks. "Needs more than just my help," he says, practically purring.

"Roman, I swear to the Fates."

I wake up in a pool of sweat, panting. What the fuck was that, and why was the Alpha of Alpha's helping me?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Four days have passed, and I finally feel like I can breathe again. While my memories are not even close to back and I'm more confused than I've ever been in my life, I'm keeping everything to myself until I understand more. Like why the hell I was working with Roman Knight, and who the hell Kain is and how he factors into everything.

Other stuff makes more sense. I remember more about what we are, our ways, and it’s strange, because I see the old me in my mind, and it’s like it’s a different person. I don't feel like her, I don't think I even really look that much like her, except for my eyes. Maybe my cheekbones and lips too, I guess.

Maybe I’m just in denial still, because really, I can tell that it’s me, even if my brain doesn’t want to accept it yet. It’s my violet eyes that give it away. There really isn’t much denying it, no matter what my logical brain tries to make me believe.

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