Seemingly amused, he prowled toward her. “I’m actually looking forward to this.”
“Don’t forget to watch for her right hook, Lyle!”
Roni recognized the voice as that belonging to the female jackal who’d tried forcing her into the car—the one who had also been knocked out cold.
Holding Roni’s gaze, Lyle said, “Oh, yes, Jenna told me all about how you like to go for the temple.”
As much as that annoyed Roni, she was also grateful to Jenna at that moment. Neither the bitch nor Lyle had realized it, but they’d actually helped Roni by letting her know he’d be on guard for that move. Now she knew to concentrate on her other moves.
She watched as he clenched his fists, dropped his chin slightly, and shifted one foot in front of him—and she knew he was going to hit her. Roni struck first, and she struck fast and hard, making it count, slamming her fist into his solar plexus, knocking the breath out of him.
Twelve years ago, her instinct had been to go straight for the groin. Now, she knew better. Knew it was a predictable move that was easily countered. Giving him no time to defend himself, she came at Lyle with a quick burst of moves. A hard blow to the ribs. A harsh kick to the kneecap. A palm strike to the face. She didn’t let up, keeping the pressure on, being careful not to telegraph her movements.
It was fast, it was brutal, and it was explosive. Lyle jabbed, punched, slapped, and repeatedly attempted to restrain her. She quickly recognized that he was trying to get her on the floor. No way. If he managed to pin her down, it would be very unlikely that she would get back up.
As she aimed for his nose, Lyle blocked the strike and abruptly swung his fist at her head. She jerked away to avoid the hit, but it managed to clip her jaw. The bystanders cheered. Damn, that hurt. And it was going to bruise. Marcus would lose his shit. The adrenaline dimmed the pain enough for her to keep moving. But she knew she’d feel the true brunt of it later.
Jenna screeched, “Make the bitch bleed!”
Lyle did just that: clawing her chest, raking over a nipple. Fuck. Pain knifed through Roni, making the bud feel like it was on fire. She could feel blood soaking her T-shirt, knew it was bad. But she fought the pull to check the wound. Refused to move her attention from Lyle. The moment she did, he would be on her.
Instead, she did as Eli taught her; she moved like water, flowing with Lyle’s moves as opposed to cowering from them. She never stopped. Not even for a moment. She hit, she ducked, she jumped, she dodged—ensuring she was too squirrely for Lyle to get a firm grip on her.
Aiming to obscure his vision, she crossed a little as she slammed her fist hard into his nose. An ominous crack was quickly followed by a roar as blood gushed from his nose and splattered on the ground. The audience booed and cursed.
Growling, Lyle wiped blood from his face and flicked it at her. The distraction cost her. He abruptly swept out his foot, knocking her feet from under her. She hit the tiled floor hard, grunting in pain, and he quickly advanced on her. She rolled before Lyle’s boot could connect with her ribs. Jumping to her feet, she parried his next blow. And the next. And the next. Seeing an opening, she rammed her elbow into his throat. He staggered back, cupping his throat.
With a loud cry of outrage, Jenna came charging over like a damn spider monkey. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Roni punched her breast hard—the bitch might now have an idea of exactly how Roni was feeling; her nipple was still throbbing, felt like it was on fire. Roni grabbed her by the hair and shoved Jenna’s head down just as she brought her knee up hard to connect with her nose. Another nauseating crack. Jenna cried out, and again, the crowd booed.
Roni had just shoved the whining jackal aside when Lyle’s hand locked around her wrist, squeezing painfully as he dragged her close. Instead of trying to pull free, she clawed his face, catching his eyeball. With a roar of pain, he backpedalled and reflexively retracted his hands to bring them up to shield his face. But he kept his cruel gaze locked on her. And Roni saw something in those eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was in his scent too. Behind the coppery tang of blood, the sour stench of sweat, and the burning whiff of anger was the metallic scent of fear. It satisfied her wolf.
With his eye red and watery, he again advanced on her. They went at each other, both merciless and thirsty for vengeance. Punching. Kicking. Slapping. Clawing. She was fast losing her breath, but she didn’t let up. Even though her chest heaved, sweat dotted her forehead, and blood was trickling from several wounds on her body, she kept on going. Lyle was in no better shape than she was, which only served to further incite the crowd.
At that moment, she sensed Marcus, knew he was close. Knew he was desperate to get to her, fighting and killing his way through the hyenas and jackals who were surrounding the lodge. But she didn’t want him anywhere near Lyle Browne or his pack of sick fucks.
Cupping her hands, she slapped them hard over Lyle’s ears. He roared and staggered as his eardrum shattered. She moved to attack him again, but an arm came around her from behind. Motherfucker. Using her claws, she sliced the arm from wrist to elbow. It released her. She twisted her hips and delivered a side kick to the bastard’s kidneys.
That was when she heard a bellow of rage coming from Lyle. She turned, but she turned too late. His punch caught her ribs, and there was a sickening snap. Ripples of sheer agony rushed through her. Son of a bitch. Her hand flew to her body as she sucked in deep mounds of air, trying to catch her breath. The heel of his boot slammed into her shin, and she stumbled, almost losing her footing on the slippery, blood-covered tiles. He took advantage, charging at her. The impact sent her sprawling onto her back.
The bastard straddled her and wrapped his hands around her neck. Instantly, she tucked her chin down to prevent her windpipe from being obstructed. Ignoring the reflex to try to pry his hands from her throat, she punched him in the dick. He made a choking sound as his hand cupped his groin and he curled over her.
Determined to get free, she pulled at his hair, bit into his throat, clawed at his face. Her wolf’s panic drove her on, insisted she didn’t give up. Sensing that Lyle’s friends were about to surround her, Roni stabbed her claws into his inner thigh, targeting the major artery. He roared in pain, and she rolled them, coming to straddle him. But the big bastard rolled them again and again and—
The cold pool water swallowed Roni, almost making her gasp in shock. For a short moment, she didn’t move, stunned. Then panic set in, and she freed herself from Lyle’s grip and kicked to the surface of the pool. As her head penetrated the surface of the water, relief filled her, and she gulped in huge clumps of air.
She swam for the edge of the pool, but then a hand fisted in her hair and forced her head under the water. Fuck. She fought against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her, but as Lyle’s hold on her tightened and he pushed her deeper and deeper into the water, all Roni could think about was getting to the surface.
She frantically thrashed and kicked her legs, all the while struggling to hold her breath. At that moment, her wolf’s anger was a live thing. It acted as fuel, boosting Roni’s strength . . . but it wasn’t enough. Roni fought and fought, but she couldn’t reach Lyle well enough to hurt him; she couldn’t get free.
The chlorine filled and stung her nose and her airways as she helplessly inhaled the water. It felt like something was tearing and burning her throat, like it was shrinking, as the water filled her lungs. At the same time, she began to feel heavy, tired, and weak.
And she had the fleeting thought that she was going to die, that she would never see her mate again.
It should have increased her panic, but suddenly the fear slipped away. A sense of calm and tranquility began to settle in. She felt strangely at peace. Was confident that Marcus—strong, powerful, and resilient—would be fine without her. Her wolf was still frantic, clawing at Roni, fighting to surface and protect them. But her body didn’t have enough physical strength to shift. And as she succumbed to the need to sleep, her mind distantly registered the
sounds of wolves growling and jackals yelping in pure agony.
Marcus felt it the second Roni lost consciousness. He’d just shifted to his human form, having ripped apart the hyenas who were guarding the emergency exit to the basement. The shock of her blacking out made him stumble as he rushed down the steps toward the basement door. Fuck. His wolf howled, terrified for his mate.
Shaking with the need to reach her, Marcus shoved at the door, but it didn’t open. He kicked at it, determined to somehow bash his way through the protective glass. Hearing a series of approaching howls, he knew that the battle at the opposite side of the land was over, that his pack and the Mercury wolves were on their way. But it wouldn’t be fast enough to help Roni.
Racing back up the steps, Marcus grabbed a rock from beside the lodge and launched it at the door. It chipped the glass slightly, leaving spiderweb cracks. Again and again, he did it, until finally there was a big enough hole for him to squeeze his arm through.
Having unlocked the door, he shoved it open, knocking down the blackout blind as he barged into the basement. His brain noted that three wolves—Kathy, Tao, and Dominic—had entered through the other door and were now fighting the jackals, viciously tearing them apart. But all he gave a shit about was his mate; he could feel her organs beginning to shut down, could feel her heartbeat slowing and becoming erratic.
His eyes slammed on Lyle Browne, who was forcing her head beneath the water. And she wasn’t moving. Marcus rushed across the room and dived into the pool. Startled, Lyle twisted slightly, releasing a limp Roni to defend himself. But before he could act, Marcus grabbed the fucker by his hair and slammed his head against the side of the pool. Once. Twice. Three times. Until something cracked and Lyle was out cold. Marcus released him, prepared to let the water do its job. Any other time, Marcus might have taken the time to make his death more agonizing. But right now, all he cared about was getting Roni out of the water.
Holding his breath, he let the water envelope him as he abandoned Lyle’s unmoving body and swam to Roni. She was halfway to the bottom of the pool, motionless. Wrapping an arm around her, he kicked for the surface and found Eli and Derren hovering there. They took her from him, sliding her onto the tiled floor. She was pale, her lips and fingernail beds were blue, and shit, he’d never been more scared in his life. His wolf released a mournful howl.
By the time Marcus was out of the pool, Derren had already started CPR. He immediately took over, shoving Derren out of the way, needing to do something. With the fingers of both hands at her jaw just below the ears, he kept her jaw jutted as he pinched her nose shut and sealed his mouth over hers. He blew hard enough to see her chest rise, then did it again two seconds later. His enhanced hearing picked up that she still wasn’t breathing.
Hands clasped together, he pushed down to compress the chest, repeating it every few seconds while Derren counted. “Baby, you have to breathe for me.” She couldn’t die, she just couldn’t. “Come on, sweetheart, breathe.”
“Please, Roni,” begged Eli, kneeling beside Derren. “You have to wake up.”
Marcus was distantly aware that the fighting had all stopped and that several wolves were now gathered around them, but he was solely focused on Roni.
“I should have known she’d lock herself inside,” sniffled Shaya. “I should have stopped her.” Nick murmured comforting words into her ear, assuring her that it wasn’t her fault.
Again, Marcus blew air into Roni’s mouth. She would live, dammit. Compressing her chest again, he ordered, “Breathe.”
But she wasn’t breathing. She was dying. Both he and his wolf could feel it through their link, could feel her slipping away, could feel that bond weakening right along with her. No, this just wasn’t happening. “You can’t fucking die!”
She couldn’t. He loved her. He needed her. And it was only then that he realized he’d actually been afraid to let himself need her. What’s more, he’d been afraid to let her truly need him. His determination to not be needy like his mother or be mated to anyone like her had held him back from Roni without him even realizing it.
With Roni, it was okay to have her lean on him, because she would never drain him. Just as it was okay for him to lean on her—it didn’t make the relationship codependent in any way. There would always be give and take with them. It was a two-way street.
He sucked in a breath at the sudden sensation of a sledgehammer crashing into his chest and head. But the pain quickly eased, and he realized their mating bond had snapped into place—filling both him and his wolf with relief, triumph, and hope. Instinctively, Marcus pushed strength and energy down the bond, feeding it to Roni. At the same time, he resumed CPR. “Please, baby, please. Brea—”
“We’ve got a pulse,” announced Derren. “It’s weak, but it’s there.”
Marcus felt it through the bond, felt her coming back. His relief was so profound, it took everything he had not to bawl like a fucking baby. He kept on shoving energy through the bond, just as he kept up CPR. Moments later, her body suddenly bowed and a strange sound seemed to rumble up her throat. Realizing what was happening, he tipped her onto her side; water gushed out of her mouth.
“Thank fucking God.” Cradling her against him, Marcus buried his face in her hair as she coughed repeatedly, like she was still choking—as if unable to adjust to the air. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He did his best to calm her as he continued giving her strength through the bond, even though it was beginning to tire him. His wolf didn’t stop in his pacing, still an emotional wreck, unable to fully shake off the fear.
Roni wanted to speak, wanted to tell Marcus that she was so glad he was okay, wanted to ask about the others in the pack, wanted to check his entire body for wounds, but she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. It had felt like only a moment after falling asleep that a painful pressure was pounding on her chest.
“Here.” Kathy, tears streaming down her face, handed Marcus a blanket.
Surprised to see her mother crying—showing emotion—Roni might have commented if she’d had the strength. Instead, she snuggled into Marcus, pleasing her anxious wolf.
Instantly, Marcus wrapped the blanket around Roni. She wasn’t freezing, but she wasn’t warm enough for his peace of mind. Noticing that his Alpha pair wasn’t around, he turned to Trick. “How many were hurt?” If anyone from his pack had died, Marcus would have felt it through the pack link. And considering the Mercury wolves didn’t appear to be interested in anyone other than Roni, he figured they were all alive.
“Dante, Tao, Dominic, Bracken, Kent, and Caleb were in bad shape,” replied Trick. “Taryn halfway healed each of them in order to preserve her energy, so they’re resting now. But she’s about ready to drop, even with Trey lending her his strength.”
Feeling Roni shiver in his arms, Marcus cradled her even closer to him. “I need to get these wet clothes off you.”
Nick nodded. “Come on. You can both use one of the guest rooms.”
Marcus slowly got to his feet with Roni still in his arms. His knees buckled slightly, and Eli was instantly there.
“Let me take her.” When Marcus hesitated, Eli added, “I know the last thing you want is to be away from her right now, even for a second, but you’re no good to her if you pass out.”
And he was close to passing out. Lethargy was creeping up on him. He felt a sudden spurt of energy through the bond and realized it was Roni. He gave her a stern look. Her answering expression was pure stubbornness. Reluctantly, he handed her to Eli. Trick and Ryan came up on either side of him. He tried shrugging them off, determined to walk on his own steam.
“Swallow your pride, asshole,” growled Trick, irritated and amused.
For no other reason than that he didn’t want to lag behind, he allowed Trick and Ryan to support his weight as Nick and Shaya led the way to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Within seconds, both Marcus and Roni were naked and wrapped in a blanket while locked together as they leaned against the headboard. Seeing all her injuries,
he might have lost his mind if it hadn’t already been in total turmoil. Roni was scowling at the sight of his own wounds, cursing the jackals and hyenas under her breath.
Taryn burst into the room, shrugging past Nick, Shaya, Kathy, Eli, and Derren. “Let me at her.”
“Taryn, you’re weak right now,” said Trey, trailing behind her. She really was. Hell, she was almost as pale and groggy as Roni. “You need to recover. She’s alive.”
Ignoring him, the Alpha female came to Roni’s side. “That doesn’t mean she’s okay, Flintstone. She could develop pneumonia, an infection, or heart failure. I’m not taking any chances.”
When Taryn went to touch her, Roni jerked back, shaking her head. No way was she going to be the cause of Taryn hitting the floor.
“Don’t give me any shit, Roni Axton.” Taryn pointed hard at her. “You saved my son’s life, and I’m going to make damn sure you live too.”
Yeah, well, Roni didn’t give to receive. She pushed Taryn’s hand away, her face mutinous.
“Just let her do it,” grumbled Trey. “She’s going to drop any minute, whether she heals you or not.”
Accepting that, Roni didn’t struggle as Taryn did that weird healing thing—even though it freaked her out and fascinated her at the same time. As expected, Taryn’s legs gave out once she was done. Trey was there to catch her. Picking her up, he griped at her stubbornness as he began to leave the room. So she slapped him over the head.
Nick came over then, swallowing hard as he looked at Roni. “You risked your own life to keep Shaya safe. I don’t know whether to thank you or strangle you for risking yourself that way.”
Personally, Marcus was leaning toward the latter. He could understand Nick being torn, but the fact that she had risked her life wasn’t at all acceptable to Marcus, no matter who she had been trying to protect.
Nick took her hand in his. “Thank you. But make that the last time you ever do something like that.” Then he kissed her forehead. “We’ll leave you both to rest.” He ushered everyone out of the room.
Dark Instincts Page 30