by Kamryn Hart
“Yes, we got her back,” I replied gruffly.
“And? Why isn’t she with you?”
I heard more movement in the foliage. More men emerged. They were wearing black cloaks like Jobe, allowing them to blend into the night and conceal what was underneath—which was probably some sort of light armor.
“You waited out here since the Full Moon Banquet?” I asked.
“Of course. We have to play this smart. The Lost Princess is invaluable. I had faith you would come through for us.” Jobe made a ticking noise with his tongue behind his teeth. His skin wrinkled with an annoyed scowl. “So, where is she, Rodrick? You didn’t say.”
I avoided his question and growled, “I don’t care how small your team is. You sound like a coward, putting everything on me. You know how to fight vampires. It’s a big part of our training. There was no guarantee that I’d be able to reclaim the Lost Princess. They took her to the fucking caves. They’re practically impenetrable.”
“The only real advantage we have over vampires is during the day or if the beasts have been starved. They have complete control of the night when they are well fed. They’re like demons.” Jobe paused. His lips curled up, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Feeling the weight of your responsibility, Rodrick? The most gifted. Merik’s favorite.”
“Cowards.” I clenched my fists. “I’m not giving you the Lost Princess.”
There was silence. It was as if the world stood still. No one moved, and no one spoke. I half expected them to be on me at any second, but it seemed I had given them a bigger shock than they were expecting.
“I must’ve heard you wrong,” Jobe said. His cloak fluttered in the passing breeze, the frayed and tattered edges revealing all it had been through. All Jobe had been through. The Prime War left scars on all of us.
I replied, “You heard me right.”
Jobe replaced his hood and his eyes darkened underneath it. They went black and seemed to sink back into his skull like deep, worm-ridden holes just waiting to swallow me up as well. Gods, my imagination was running wild.
Don’t think. Just act.
“I strongly urge you to rethink that decision,” Jobe warned.
“I have. Over and over. My allegiance is to Sorissa now. If you’ll listen, I can explain.”
Jobe let out a feral screech that surprised me. It sounded more animal than man. “And so you’ve become a full-fledged werewolf.”
“I’m tethered. I’m human.”
“You’re changed. You’re more werewolf than human now. And all werewolves are the same. Being tethered for just over two months has rotted your brain.”
“Sorissa fights for humans,” I defended—though I knew it was pointless.
Jobe’s shoulders shook as he let out an airy laugh that sounded more like dry heaving. “Is that right?”
I reflexively growled when the men with Jobe started to surround me and moved forward like they were going to trap a wild animal.
“You really have lost your mind,” Jobe remarked. His mouth opened wide, escaping the shadow of his hood in a silent scream. Then I realized he was screaming. The sound hit my ears in a built-up rush. “Attack!”
The cloaked men leaped all at once. Was their plan to bury me underneath their bodies? To stop me from moving? Should I take it?
I ducked and sidestepped, escaping through the tiniest gap in their imperfect formation. Then I felt guilty for doing it. Guilty.
One of them came from behind. I grabbed him and threw him against the stone. Something cracked. I looked down at my hands to see wisps of blue coiling around them. I hadn’t consciously drawn on this power. I didn’t will it to activate. My hands shook as I curled them into fists, snuffing out the heatless flames. But the undeniable energy of activated moonlight continued to hum in my core.
“Merik will be sorely disappointed to hear this after everything he did for you, Rodrick, after treating you like his own son,” Jobe taunted as he stepped forward, something glinting underneath the long sleeve of his cloak. It was a knife.
He screamed and charged. I knew he was moving quickly, but time slowed. Moonlight flared in my eyes, and I easily escaped a well-placed lethal swing that was meant to cut all the way through to my heart. I caught his wrist and squeezed, moonlight once again empowering my hands, and forced him to drop the knife in the grass below. It landed blade first with a thud.
“Merik would listen to me,” I growled in his face and shoved him aside to stop another incoming attack at my back.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Jobe said. He caught himself by digging his heels into the ground and pulled his knife free from the earth as he rushed at me again.
I was holding them off for now, but it was taking everything I had. My moonlight was active, on full blast, coating my entire body. I was one against ten, and they were all trained the same way I was. I had excelled at our training, and I was much bigger than most, but these were adept fighters. And I was out of my mind. I had no control over my moonlight. I had no control over my emotions. I was going to leave a blind spot wide open because I had become like the hotheaded, emotional fighters I despised.
I wondered if I deserved the punishment. I wondered if I should take it. And then I wondered why I couldn’t decide on the right choice.
I knew one thing: Sorissa.
Sorissa.
I didn’t want to hurt the rebels, but I couldn’t let them have her. They wouldn’t listen, so I needed to chase them out or put them out cold. Maybe a combination of both because putting one out of the fight hadn’t deterred them.
A fist flew at my face, and I caught it with ease, throwing the owner onto the ground in one quick motion. I ripped off his hood and jabbed a pressure point in his neck. He went limp. He’d wake up with a headache, but he was fine otherwise.
I tried to catch the next incoming blow, but I was too slow. Too slow even with moonlight. I was being too careful. I was too concerned with their wellbeing. A fist dug into my stomach. I would have been fine with all the moonlight surging through my veins, but the guy was wearing steel knuckles with jagged points that ripped into my flesh. Hot blood poured out of my gut, and I concentrated moonlight in that area to heal it. I was draining myself so quickly. I knew better than this. I knew how to make moonlight last, but not when I was stuck in my fucking head.
And apparently, I wasn’t good at multitasking at the moment. The guy punched me again. I couldn’t concentrate on healing and fighting at the same time. Maybe I had never really mastered moonlight because somewhere inside of me I had always rejected it. I never used it unless I had to. Because I was human.
Then I was suddenly on my back in the grass, sucking in a deep breath of air, stomach burning. I rolled to the side as someone came down on me with their boots, narrowly dodging it. Then I tripped another guy, grabbed him, and hit that same pressure point, knocking him out.
I got back on my feet. My moonlight reserves were suddenly dormant. Useless. I was completely out of fucking control.
I winced and pressed my hand to my stomach in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. I heard a click and looked up. Jobe was standing a few feet in front of me, back against the stone, gun pointed steadily at my heart. The knife was dirty enough. We should have settled this hand to hand like we always did back in Freedom. The gun was pure cowardice. They wanted me dead, and they weren’t taking chances.
Jobe’s hood blew off in the wind. His scarred face was locked into a fierce snarl. His dark eyes were trained on me. His finger was trained on the trigger, pulling back slowly. Slowly. Time almost stopped, but this time it wasn’t due to moonlight. I couldn’t move when the gun exploded. I knew the bullet would come racing straight for my heart, ending all of this.
But then, right at the last second, something blurred in my vision. Jobe’s gun was knocked clean out of his hand. The shot went awry, drilling into the leafy canopy above. And Sorissa was there. No moonlight. No wolf. But I could see both things inside of her as she attacked Jobe, bod
y slamming him into the ground as she roared and screamed like a banshee on top of him. She wrapped her hands around his neck in an unbelievably hard grip, nails digging in and drawing blood. His face was turning purple as he choked and gagged and weakly scratched at her hands.
Sorissa howled. If her sudden and frightening appearance hadn’t already petrified everyone around, the howl sure did; it was demanding, commanding, rooted into my very bones. She wasn’t in her moonlight form. I kept staring, expecting to see the black wolf emerge, but she had no moonlight. And yet, that howl was something that could have only come from a deadly wolf.
“Sorissa,” I choked. My tongue was lead in my mouth. My feet were cemented to the ground. My stomach felt like it was going to fall out in a bloody heap. I wanted her to stop. I wanted her to…
A cloaked figure ran up behind Sorissa, and I couldn’t even shout a warning. But she saw him coming. She pressed down on Jobe, grounding herself, and swept the attacker’s legs out from under him. He went flying over her and Jobe like a harmless bird. Sorissa’s focus returned to Jobe. Her knuckles were going white. Jobe’s eyes were turning red; she was going to pop them right out of their fucking sockets.
“Nobody hurts what’s mine,” she growled. And suddenly, she had the damn gun in one hand while the other continued squeezing Jobe’s bruised throat. When did she grab that thing? Jobe’s guys took a step back, unsure of how to save their squad leader and intimidated by the sudden reappearance of the gun.
This was not the werea I fought in the square. This was a tornado destroying anything that got in its path.
I cleared my throat and found my voice. “Let them go.” My feet broke free of the weight keeping them in place, and I cautiously walked toward her. I didn’t think she’d shoot me, but I also didn’t know. She wasn’t in her usual headspace. The Sorissa I knew was against pointless bloodshed. She was even against killing when Paws Peak attacked. She didn’t kill a single werewolf even though it would have been in self-defense.
“Only if they promise never to touch you again!” she screamed. She squeezed Jobe’s throat and pressed the nose of the gun against his cheek. But she had lessened the pressure. He was coughing and breathing, the bruised color fading from his face.
I took another couple steps forward with my hands raised and non-threatening. Sorissa’s eyes shone in the night, glossy like glass. Then tears fell down her cheeks, leaving silvery streaks.
“They nearly killed you,” she sobbed. Her hand shook as she mashed the gun farther into Jobe’s cheek. “I’m not going to let them take you from me. I’m not going to let them take any of you from me.”
I hated that tortured look on her face. I hated the way her jaw was clenched, how her eyes blazed anger and pain all at once.
“Surrender, Jobe. She’s not messing around,” I said.
Jobe sneered from underneath her. Fucking moron. He was going to get himself killed. It was now or never.
I walked the rest of the way to her—deciding it was better not to make any sudden movements—bent down, and grabbed Sorissa’s wrist. I gently moved to the back of her hand and eased my way toward the gun. Her finger wasn’t even on the trigger. I took the weapon easily. I didn’t have to pry her fingers loose. But her other hand tightened around Jobe’s throat.
“Sorissa,” I said sternly.
She growled. I went for her other hand, trying to rip her fingers off of his swollen throat. Her grip was ridiculous. It must have been the result of all the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but I had to use moonlight to tear her fingers away. When I had her under my control, I stood, and yanked her up with me. I had to drop the gun to the floor and crush it under my boot as I hogtied her to my chest because she started struggling.
“Get Jobe and your fallen and get out of here!” I yelled to the dumbstruck rebels. “Unless you want to face her wrath.”
Sorissa was clawing at my arms and even biting. This was an animalistic rage that knew no bounds. She had her eyes set on the rebels and nothing else. I was right to be wary of the gun before.
Thank Cor, the rebels were scared shitless. A few of them grabbed Jobe as well as the two I knocked out and dragged them away into the trees. Motors roared loudly and faded all at once as they hightailed it out of there in a hurry.
Sorissa continued to struggle against my arms, biting and clawing in her frenzy. She never cut me deep, but it felt like getting stung by a bee over and over. I squeezed her tighter and growled. I bound her with the strength of my moonlight, treating her more roughly than I would have liked and likely hurting her, but I had no idea what else to do. And it was partly a reflex. I didn’t take pain lying down. Gods, my stomach was killing me. It wasn’t a fatal wound, moonlight or not, as long as it was treated, but it was designed to hurt, and it did.
“Enough!” I barked.
Thin lines of blood trickled down my arms. Warm blood from my stomach drenched the back of Sorissa’s short-sleeved shirt and made it stick to what was left of my own as well as my ruined flesh, aggravating the wound further.
Sorissa finally stopped struggling and panted in my hold. Her curly hair was wild, tangled in a ponytail that was falling out. She gripped my arm, but not to hurt me. She wasn’t digging in with her nails. Her fingers were soft. She turned her head, pressed her nose to my right bicep, and gently licked away one of the bloody trails.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I can’t believe I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” I said gruffly.
“You didn’t even make them promise to leave you alone,” she whimpered. I couldn’t get over the fire and grief burning inside of her red-tinted eyes. Had Prime finally broken her since leaving the Witch Woods five days ago?
“While I’ve never seen anger serve anyone in a fight before, I think you’re the reason they left. You’re scary as hell when you’re angry,” I said as I released her. “They’d be suicidal to come back here and face you.”
She grabbed hold of my arm again and licked another scratch.
“Stop it,” I said. “I’m fine.”
She dropped to her knees, hands sliding down my arm and to my hand, which she held on to. She pressed her lips to the back of my hand in a soft kiss. “I will never hurt you like that again,” she vowed.
“It’s nothing,” I said. I closed my eyes and healed my wounds with my dwindling moonlight reserves. I wasted so much of it. That was the cost of being hotheaded. My life would have been next if not for Sorissa.
I opened my eyes and pulled her back up to her feet. “Never bow to me. It’s over. I’m as good as new. Let’s go back to the lair and forget this happened.”
She wiped the tears from her eyes, but the fire remained. Her lips were set into a thin, grim line, hiding their usual fullness. I had never seen a creature more beautiful or terrifying than Sorissa. And, for some reason, she was acting this way because of me.
CHAPTER 15
RODRICK
I KNEW WE SHOULD move, that we should go back to the lair like I suggested, but I had a question that needed to be answered. “What were you thinking?”
“They were going to kill you,” Sorissa growled. “I waited. I was going to let you handle it, but they took things too far. I couldn’t allow it.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me tightly.
My arms lay uselessly at my sides because I couldn’t bring myself to move. My limbs were encased in cement again. Her touch was too warm, too comforting. She felt like nothing I had ever known before. The only thing that came close was Phantom Fangs. Maybe I really was becoming a werewolf. Was this a need for pack? Camaraderie? A mate? That last one didn’t make any sense for a tethered.
“I wish you hadn’t,” I said. “I was trying to tell them that you’re different from the other werewolves. Not that they would have listened anyway. Honestly, I hadn’t even expected them to be here.” I glanced back at the note sitting under a rock on the large stone. I was going to tear the thing to shreds. A fucking n
ote.
“I was only defending you.” She squeezed me a little tighter as if she knew my attention was elsewhere and wanted it back on her. She shattered the cement holding me in place, and I wrapped my arms around her in return.
I huffed. “How did you track me down anyway?”
“Todd and I were on our way back to the lair, and I spotted you. I told Todd to go ahead while I went after you. I said I’d bring you back.”
“You’re as sneaky as a fox then. I had no idea.” I was honestly impressed.
She looked up and smiled at me. “Let’s go home.” She released me and captured one of my hands. Then she tugged, like the demanding little fighter she was. The princess who fought for me even though she didn’t have moonlight. The princess who thought I was worth something more than being a spy or a soldier, than being a compass, snuffing out the black and bringing in the white.
I burned. I burned where she touched me. I burned in my core. It spread everywhere. Even to the tips of my toes.
How did she want me? What was my worth?
“Mine.” She said that about me.
I gripped her hand firmly and yanked her back, twirling her around in the same motion so she had to steady herself by placing her free hand flat against my chest, right over my heart. She looked up at me with wide eyes. Her mouth was parted softly. I reached down and kissed her hard. It was more like a crashing of lips and teeth. She let out a little moan, right there with me, biting, sucking, licking.
How did she want me?
I took a step forward, forcing her back. I repeated this action until I had her back against a tree, so I could press into her. She grabbed the back of my neck, and I propped her up against the tree trunk. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I pressed into her harder. We were hardly moving, but we were both breathing heavily. My body shuddered with anticipation as I rolled my hips forward, hitting in between her legs. She gasped, eyes fluttering. We were perfectly aligned. If not for our clothes, I would have been fucking her right this moment. And there was nowhere for her to go. I could punish her like this.