Sharpened Claws: A Gay Werewolf Romance

by Peyton Bogue

  Steele is going to try to force Rhys to accept his challenge, trap him, and kill him.

  Jesus Christ.

  Sage tries not to react to his thoughts, even though he can feel the blood beginning to drain from his face.

  “You want to kill Rhys,” Sage says slowly, the realization dawning over him. “You’re using me as bait to lure him here so that he’ll accept your challenge and you can kill him.”

  “Finally!” Steele laughs, shaking his head. “You really are a shit detective.”

  “How are you going to try to kill him? If he thinks you’re going to do anything to him, he’ll kill you before you get the chance,” Sage says reasonably, even as his heart begins to beat rapidly in his ears. He doesn’t know how he didn’t realize this sooner. This was never about killing him. Steele has had plenty of opportunities to kill him over the course of however long Sage has been held by him. If Steele wanted to rip him apart, he’s had the time to do it.

  The waiting has been intentional. He’s never planned on killing Sage. Rhys is the one he wants.

  Sage’s blood turns to ice in his veins.

  “I’ve kidnapped his mate,” Steele replies easily, as if the answer is so obvious that he doesn’t understand how Sage is not understanding. “Rhys won’t do anything to me if I threaten to hurt you. His instincts won’t let him.”

  “Mate,” Sage repeats, his heart pounding roughly against his ribcage. “You said that earlier. What does that even mean? Is that another insult?”

  Steele’s attention snaps back to him, and for a moment, all Sage can see is confusion. Steele’s eyes pinch questioningly, and he regards Sage confusingly, as if he genuinely doesn’t know why Sage is asking him something like that. Sage just squares his jaw and glares back. Steele’s quizzical expression disappears after a moment, and a predatory grin breaks out over his mouth.

  “You don’t know,” he says, almost to himself. Sage’s eyes trail over Steele’s face in question as he scowls, but Steele chuckles. “You really don’t know. This is amazing.”

  “Know what?” Sage asks stubbornly, shaking his head. “Know what?”

  “Oh, this is rich,” Steele replies, ignoring Sage as he runs a hand through his hair and laughs again. His black shirt tightens over his bulging biceps, and Sage grimaces at the sight. “You don’t even know.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sage hisses at him, frowning.

  “I have to kill you now,” Steele declares suddenly, nodding his head decisively. He turns back to Sage, and his grin turns feral. Sage’s entire body recoils under his calculating gaze. “This is too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

  “What do you stand to gain from killing us, Steele? What’s the point?” Sage yells, his entire body thrumming with pain as he thrashes. He can’t take this anymore. “Huh?” Sage screams. “Why are you doing this!”

  “When I kill your boyfriend,” Steele says, his tone menacingly low, “I get his territory. But I also get his power. I’ll be the Alpha. Everything that belongs to him will then belong to me.” His salacious grin widens. “Which includes you.”

  Fear coils in Sage’s stomach. Everything seems to go silent for a moment as Sage’s entire body freezes at Steele’s words. All Sage can see behind the sudden scattering of spots in his vision is Steele’s smirk as he feels like the walls of the warehouse start to crumble around him.

  “Maybe I’ll bite you,” Steele says contemplatively, scratching at his chin. “Killing you might not be that satisfying. But,” he says, shaking his head, “I’d love to see the look on Rhys’s face when I snap your neck.”

  The threat beneath Steele’s voice springs Sage into action, and he lunges against his restraints, and the ropes give way beneath him slightly as he thrashes. Steele grabs him immediately, and Sage yells in pain when Steele’s fist connects with the same side of Sage’s face that he’d punched earlier. Sage falls onto the concrete, and the impact knocks the air from his lungs. He coughs harshly, and more blood spews across the concrete. He tries to inhale deeply, but he coughs at the fire in his throat. His breaths are labored and shallow. He wheezes after he coughs again.

  Sage moves against the restraints, and somehow, both of his wrists come through. It’s agonizing to lift his hands to push himself up, but he does, and he wipes at the blood on his cheek harshly as he stands fully.

  Steele’s claws are at his throat again before he can take another breath.

  Sage's back collides with the concrete wall, and black splotches scatter through his vision again. He has to bite down on his lip to stop the scream in his throat, and he breathes through his teeth wetly so he can focus enough to fight off a wave of nausea. The hand around his throat tightens.

  Sage’s entire body convulses as molten fire erupts beneath his chest.

  “You want to try some shit like that again?” Steele hisses, pressing Sage’s head so hard against the concrete that Sage’s entire vision goes dark for a split second. “You’re just a little human, Kaelan. You’re nothing. Try it again.”

  Sage’s bones are aching. He’s so tired. He can’t even form a coherent thought anymore. He can’t feel the pain in his broken wrist, which probably might not be a good sign. His head is pounding so hard that he can’t focus.

  He thrashes again, and this time, Steele’s claws do sink into the skin of his throat. Sage doesn’t want to react, but he can’t control how his body shudders in pain. He yells again, groaning, and Steele’s wicked grin widens.

  Steele’s hand pushes into his trachea, and Sage can’t breathe anymore. He struggles and thrashes wildly, but the claws at his throat just dig in further.

  He isn’t strong enough for this. He can’t fight off a werewolf.

  Sage kicks and scratches at Steele’s hands, his body, at anywhere he can reach. He tries and tries and tries to shove Steele off of him, but he knows that his efforts are useless. There isn’t enough oxygen reaching his brain. His vision goes black at some point before the spots scatter again. He can’t breathe.

  Steele leans in close to him and rips Sage’s injured hand off of his own arm, smirks obnoxiously, and lifts Sage's injured right arm away from his body. The most sickening snap echoes off of the concrete right next to Sage’s head, and everything silences around him as white hot pain erupts through his arm.

  Steele has completely shattered the bones in Sage’s arm. Steele has broken Sage’s radius and ulna in half.

  Sage can’t help it then. He tilts his head back as hot tears well in his eyes, and he screams and screams and screams.

  Steele doesn’t relent in his hold against Sage’s throat, but he yanks harshly, and Sage struggles but can’t stop his body from being dragged forward. Steele is suddenly at Sage's back, his claws digging in roughly into Sage’s throat, and Sage whips his head around and looks around the warehouse. It’s so hard to focus.

  The first thing he sees is Rhys. At first, Sage feels relieved. Rhys is here. And, God, he looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are Alpha red and blazing like fire, but Sage can see, even through the spots in his vision, that Rhys has been crying recently. His face is flushed and he’s breathing heavily. His canines are out, and he doesn’t even look at Steele as his eyes sweep over Sage’s body so quickly that Sage can't catch up to his sudden movements. God, his head hurts.

  Rhys is so beautiful, even when he looks absolutely murderous. His usual scowl is on his face, but it’s darker somehow as his red eyes meet Sage’s. He looks menacing, every bit the Alpha werewolf that constantly lurks beneath his skin. But he looks at Sage like he doesn’t know where to look. Behind the rage in his eyes, there’s concern. Heartbreak. Anguish. Distress. He’s looking at Sage as if the sight of him, so hurt and broken, is the most harrowing thing he’s ever seen. And he looks so incredibly furious that Sage can’t hide his full body shudder.

  The second thing, Sage realizes belatedly, is that behind Rhys, a door is completely caved in on itself, as if Rhys completely ripped it off its hinges with just the f
orce of pushing it open. The door looks like it’s made of metal, and Sage heard the heavy clang of it when Steele pushed it open. It’s not supposed to break like that, but Rhys has completely demolished it.

  And, within a split second, everything catches back up to Sage. Steele at his back. Rhys being here at this warehouse, where Steele is going to try to kill him. Sage’s relief quickly fizzles out inside him. Panic completely overtakes him.

  “Rhys!” he tries to scream, but Steele’s claws dig into his throat deeper, and Sage gasps in pain. He pushes past the fire. “You can’t be here! Turn around! Leave!”

  Rhys’s eyes run over Sage’s neck, at where Steele’s claws are digging into his throat, and he growls so loudly it makes Sage’s heart stop. He takes a step forward.

  “No! No! Rhys, please!” Sage shouts, his voice so strained he doesn’t even know if his words are coming out right. “Turn around! Leave!”

  The tears in his eyes fall, but Sage doesn’t care. Rhys can’t be here.

  “He’s going to kill you!” Sage tries again, and another groan of pain tears itself from his throat when Steele yanks harshly at where he’s keeping Sage pressed in close to his hard body. “Please,” he pants, a wet plea. “Turn around.”

  Rhys doesn’t move, just looks at Sage with so much pain in his eyes that Sage’s entire body feels weighed down from it. Sage feels an excruciating ache in his chest, and he can’t breathe. There’s too much pressure against him, and he blinks helplessly against the scattering of black in his vision again.

  Steele stills his hand against Sage’s neck, and Sage bites back a whimper when the tiniest bit of air flows into his lungs.

  “Rhys Becker!” Steele says, smiling wickedly. “What took you so long?” he asks behind Sage, and now that his claws aren’t moving against Sage’s trachea anymore, Sage can feel the blood running down his neck from the gaping wounds. He thinks he’s bleeding somewhere else, too. He can’t move his head to check.

  Rhys growls so deep and animalistic that Steele’s hands seem to tighten on Sage in abrupt fear. “Let him go,” Rhys snarls, taking another step forward. He can’t get to Sage without risking the chance of Steele killing Sage. The thought makes Sage feel as if he’s short of breath.

  “Rhys, please,” Sage begs, and his voice is barely coherent as the words tumble past his lips.

  Rhys’s eyes snap back to him, and his entire face contorts into fury as he looks straight into Sage’s eyes. He snarls again.

  “This is between you and me, Steele. You want my territory? Let him go,” Rhys growls as his hands clench into fists. Sage watches as blood trails over Rhys’s knuckles and drips onto the concrete below Rhys’s feet from the force of his claws sinking into his palms.

  Rhys looks so scared. He’s in a fighting stance, but he can’t keep his eyes on Steele, the biggest threat to him in the room. His eyes keep darting over Sage’s body, as if he’s trying to valiantly assess Sage’s injuries and find the best way to get to him.

  Sage can’t take it. Rhys isn’t even worried about himself. He’s trying to get Sage out of there, even though it puts himself into a direct line of fire.

  Steele knows it, too. His grip on Sage tightens, and Sage knows that he won’t be able to get out of it unless Steele intentionally lets him go. It’s deliberate, the way Steele has Sage trapped in front of him. Sage knows that the only thing that is stopping Rhys from attacking Steele is the fact that Sage is in between them.

  You’re the one person I can’t live without, Rhys had said to him almost a week ago. And I’m afraid he’s going to use you against me.

  Sage feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest.

  “Where’s the fun in letting him go, huh?” Steele asks Rhys callously, and even though Sage can’t see him, he knows that Steele has that cocky smirk on his face. “You wouldn’t want him to miss out on this, would you, Becker?”

  “You want me to accept your challenge?” Rhys bites out, growling. A shudder rips through his torso. “Let him go. I’ll give you my territory if you let him go.” He snarls again. “He’s got nothing to do with this, Steele.”

  “He has everything to do with this,” Steele growls back, and his claws dig further into Sage’s trachea. Sage yells in pain. Rhys’s eyes meet his again, and he snarls at the sound of Sage's pain. He looks as if his head might explode from hearing the way Sage screams. “Your love for him will be your undoing,” Steele continues, and the iciness in his voice makes Sage cower in fear from where he’s still pressed harshly against Steele’s front.

  Rhys’s eyes meet Sage’s once more, and they’re horror-struck as his entire body tenses. The bleakness of his red eyes is haunting as he growls.

  “How weak do you think it makes you,” Steele asks him, laughing harshly, “that your only weakness is a frail little human? Look at the way he’s trembling, Rhys.” Sage thrashes, and Steele laughs again. “Can’t you see how scared he is for you?”

  Rhys takes another step forward at the same time that Steele moves the hand he has bracketing Sage’s hands behind his back to Sage’s broken arm and grips it harshly. Sage howls in agony. Rhys’s entire face pales, and he stills his movements, his face pulled down in devastation.

  “Stop it,” he hisses, but it comes out as a wrecked plea. Rhys’s breathing is uneven from what Sage can hear of it over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears.

  “He smells so sweet,” Steele continues, running his nose right along the side of Sage’s neck, over his pulse point, as Sage desperately tries not to shake. He inhales deeply, and a laugh bubbles up in his throat. “How can you even stop yourself from pouncing on him when he smells this good? The things I could do to him, Becker. . .”

  Rhys’s snarl is fierce as it echoes off of the walls, and Steele pulls his head away from Sage’s neck quickly, almost like the movement is involuntary. He can’t seem to fight how his wolf reacts to an Alpha in its presence.

  Rhys notices it, too. “Let him go. Now.” His voice is commanding, and Sage is mildly surprised when Steele’s hands seem to hesitate on his body. After a few seconds, Steele shakes himself, and the pressure comes back on Sage’s skin in full force.

  “The way he shakes is so. . .interesting,” Steele says after a moment, chuckling again as he ignores Rhys’s order. Rhys bristles. “I’ve been fascinated with the way humans react to me ever since I was bitten. Their scents, their tells. Do you want to know what Sage’s body is telling me now, Rhys?”

  Rhys scowls at him, disgusted as his breathing turns ragged. Sage wants to turn around and punch that smirk off of Steele’s face.

  “He’s terrified,” Steele laughs. “Can’t you smell his fear?”

  Sage can see that Rhys is trying not to react, but the growl he emits is entirely feral as he shakes with rage.

  “I’ve wondered for the past few weeks what it would be like when I finally met you,” Steele continues as Rhys snarls. Sage stills against Steele’s hands. “The Alpha of New York City. There are stories about you, you know. You’ve got quite the reputation. The big bad werewolf everyone is so afraid of, alone in the world after he let his entire family die.” Sage’s heart stops as Rhys’s entire face recoils. No matter how strong Rhys is, his family will always be the one the thing he’s most vulnerable about. “We’re alike, you and me. I got tired of being alone, too. I just had to see what was so special about an Alpha without a pack. Surely, it wasn’t by choice,” Steele laughs sardonically. “When I got here, I had no idea where to start looking. Imagine my surprise when four weeks into my search, I accompany my mentor to a routine police interview, where I smell your abhorrent scent all over a human. And my good old Captain no less.”

  Weeks. Steele has been in Rhys’s territory for weeks. And he, Sage, and Kai had no idea.

  “It was easy after that,” Steele says, his voice like venom. “I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to scent him. It came as a bit of surprise, sure, when I realized who he was. And then I realized what he was.”
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  Rhys tenses, and the scowl on his face pinches in even tighter.

  “What kind of Alpha,” Steele says, chuckling, “can’t even protect his own mate?”

  Rhys loses it. The snarl in his throat is absolutely deadly as he lunges, but Steele just yanks Sage back, and suddenly, Steele’s canine fangs are at his throat.

  “Take another step and I’ll bite him,” Steele hisses. “Good luck having a mate who despises you.”

  Rhys stills again as his entire body comes to an abrupt halt. His eyes are frantic as he bares his teeth threateningly, but he doesn’t move. He looks terrified, completely frozen as he watches Steele. His muscles are bunched up uncomfortably tight against his skin as he desperately tries to hold himself back. It must be taking everything in him not to move forward to rip Steele apart.

  I couldn’t risk you, Rhys’s words invade Sage’s mind again. Rhys can’t move without the possibility of letting Steele bite Sage.

  “Get in the circle,” Steele growls at Rhys, slurred slightly through his canines. The teeth at Sage’s throat are insistent over his pulse point, and Sage tries to shove Steele away, but Steele just clutches him tighter. Sage can’t do anything.

  Rhys doesn’t move. Sage can see the way he’s fuming behind his terror as a deep rumble sounds in his chest as he tries to fight back another growl. Please run away, Sage thinks desperately. Please.

  “Get in the circle or I will snap his neck,” Steele says menacingly, and his canines are no longer at Sage’s throat as he brings both of his arms to cage Sage's head between them, one over Sage’s throat and one bracing behind Sage’s head. He pushes, and Sage’s eyes widen as his air is cut off from his throat. He thrashes, opening his mouth in a gasp, but no air makes it into his lungs.

  “Stop!” Rhys yells, a growl tumbling out of his throat with an abrupt shriek. “Please! Don’t!”

  “Get in the circle,” Steele repeats as his arm pushes harder against Sage’s throat. Sage thrashes against him, but his vision is beginning to black out again. He feels himself start to slump against Steele’s body as his head begins to pound from the lack of oxygen.