Seth’s beast had sacrificed itself to give his human an opportunity to save their mate.
He couldn’t let the gift go in vain.
Seth snapped, wrenching himself free from Méric’s hold, not caring about the loss of hair in the process, nor the blood seeping along his scalp.
Seth rose to his feet and attacked. A snarl spilt from his raw throat, not carrying nearly enough menace compared to the valour in his blood. Seth launched himself at Méric, shocked that he had partly shifted, talons exposed and canines drawn. He sunk his fangs into Méric’s right shoulder, claws latching into the Lycan’s back, puncturing deep, snipping flesh and biting into warm muscle. Méric let out a snarl and effortlessly threw Seth off with a simple twist of his body.
He slid along the floor, muscles protesting against the strain, and hit the wall hard. His head slammed against steel, splinters of pain exploding through his skull, forcing him to collapse on something wet and soft. He spat the chunk of Méric’s shoulder to the floor, lips vibrating and chest wheezing, spittle and bitter blood dribbling as he heaved for oxygen.
His body fought him when he shoved off whatever it was. The air around them stank of blood, death scenting the currents: sour, vile and…Lucas. Seth glanced down only to see a broken spine sticking from an upper torso where it had been ripped out. Thankfully, the body was not Lucas.
“You want to do this now, puppy!” Méric snapped. Gore cascaded from his shoulder wound, running in uncharted paths down his right side, staining his chest and abdomen. Pus oozed from the raw lesions decorating the left side of his face, confirming the infection Seth had tasted in Méric’s blood.
Seth narrowed his eyes as Méric’s bones moved under his skin, popping and snapping. Seth’s strength wavered, the sight before him dimming into blackness. He knew he didn’t have much time, and this last gap his Lycan offered him needed to be a brutal kill—fast and accurate. He forced his attention on the veins protruding in Méric’s neck as fur sprouted from the Lycan’s chest. He had seconds before Méric’s metamorphosis would be complete.
He snarled, the black room splitting past his vision in a blur, scents barely distinguishable as he bolted through the air, leaping, his jaws spread wide, aiming for Méric’s jugular.
A hand snagged Seth around the throat, catching him in midair. A split second was all it took, and his partial shift withdrew. He dangled in the brutal hold, the strong fingers squeezing his gullet, making air inaccessible. A raw presence breath through him, it wasn’t physical, but pure inimical darkness, a primeval bloodthirst molesting Seth’s soul. His wolf wilted and whimpered inside him, his human form like ice as the presence suffocated all others in the room. Seth’s lips quivered as the hairs on his neck lifted to attention.
This presence was demonic, powerful and deleterious.
Out of the darkness, an electric aqua-blue eye glowered at him, the crypts of Fuchs so strikingly intense Seth could map the depths the folded valleys created in the iris. There was no halo, instead, the crypts of Fuchs held shards with the same white radiance as upper-level demons, gifting the eye a fiery, liquid luminescence.
It was the most beautiful thing Seth had ever seen, and it mortified him.
The tight hold on his neck lessened, allowing air to flood his lungs, along with the scent of something...confusing. Warm, male, thick and heavy; sulfurous, but also familiar, not like him, yet...still wolf. A scent he had smelled before, here, in this place. His toes touched the cold floor, and the hand released. The eye disappeared, only for a daunting male physique to step into the light. Dressed in a tailored suit, it granted the male a vintage elegance. White flakes stuck to the man’s mutinous black hair, soaking the strands and making them curl as they melted.
The stranger turned to Seth, the sharp movement drawing into view the face the male clasped with his left hand. Seth took in the stranger’s deep brows and sharp, straight nose, a tense jaw covered wiht a dark beard—then peered at Méric: on his knees, choking on blood and clawing at the fiend’s hand spanning his face. The male proceeded to slowly destroy Méric’s visage between his fingers with seemingly little effort. No heed was paid to Méric’s body falling—his skull macerated—to the floor.
That single, left, blue eye fixated on Seth, while the other remained closed. A long, ugly white scar ran from his scalp and forehead, over the right lid, traveling the curve of his cheekbone to disappear under his facial hair. It showed its brand again over his mouth before it finally trailed away into his beard.
Seth legs buckled and finally decided they’d had enough, throwing him to the floor.
A hand snagged him at the back of his neck, plucking him up like the puppy he was.
“Tell me,” the large male thundered, his voice forcing a quiver from Seth. The hold instinctively tightened on Seth while that single eye glowed. “There was a human boy brought here recently.”
Seth blinked, fighting back the agony flaring along his skin as those fingers twisted into his flesh. The scent of this beast abruptly became clear to Seth—why it smelled so familiar.
“H-he is y-yours-s?” he whispered, jaw shaking, hindering his speech.
A pain-filled storm flashed in that cobalt-blue eye before it vanished. “He is very fragile.”
The male released Seth to the floor, but caught him under the chin, with brutal fingers pressing into his cheeks, before he could hit the stone.
A tear slid down Seth’s face. Every sacrifice his wolf had just made had been for nothing. He felt dead as that blue fire seared into him. He didn’t know if Lucas was safe, but he could just as well presume, the inevitable truth stinging his gut like a swarm of wasps. He could smell Lucas in the air—his iron-scented blood—and with this male here, it was easy for Seth to draw the conclusion.
Seth swallowed and hoped the little time he had spent with Lucas had brought his mate some joy. He wasn’t fooled, despite what he’d asked of Lucas, Seth knew the Lycan didn’t feel the same about him. But in Lucas’ arms, nestled against his hard chest, with the Lycan seated deep inside him and Lucas’ lips brutally bruising his, he’d felt happiness he hadn’t touched in a very long time.
The male growled, the darkness vibrated behind Seth’s closed lids, the clamour splitting into him, and rattling his brain. “Show me.”
The distinct sound of flesh scuffing on the floor drew their attention as a lanky man stepped out of the darkness. He wasn’t human. Not by scent and definitely not by appearance. His features were too...elfin. Silver studs lined the helices of his ears to his lobes, and along with the spikes on the shoulders of his leather jacket, it created the perfect punk attire of a fictional vampire badass. However, two short horns on either sides of his head, poking out of the teal and white-glacial mottled hair, were the unmistakable features—along with the glimmer in his eyes—that revealed his true, sinister nature.
Leather pants, with a vacuumed hold on his long legs, left no space for air between, as the demon moved nimbly. The jacket’s cut-off sleeves showcased bare, veiny and defined muscular arms. He wore nothing underneath the jacket except white, chiseled flesh that shimmered like diamonds when the slightest hint of light stroked him. But it was the body being dragged in the demon hybrid’s left hand… Lucas… Blood covered every inch of his naked form; white, black, crimson and some green bits Seth didn’t want to name.
Lucas’ gaze was unsteady, his breaths sharp but shallow, yet...
Hatred glowed in his eyes, a feral blood thirst that seemed to ripple through his entire frame. His muscles swollen and taut, dark veins strained choleric in his neck. Seth could smell him through all the gore in the air, had scented it before on Lucas when he’d become volatile, that hidden power usually slumbering inside his mate now, pulsated off of him.
“Pup,” Lucas’ weak voice traveled through the air, his body rippled, massive chest shaking, as a guttural breath split from his throat. The demon-elf holding him let go of his hair, leaving Seth helpless in the clutches of the male beast, to watc
h his mate crash to the floor, letting out a strained growl.
Seth tried to pull away, trembling in his need to get to Lucas. But the iron hold on his face increased, nails cutting into his cheeks. “Please,” he whimpered, eyes blurry, begging the male to let him go.
The male snarled, showing off thick lion-like canines, dripping with a sharp, virulent-smelling saliva. “Make it quick!” He angrily shoved Seth in Lucas’ direction.
Seth scurried over to him, his fingers shaking as he reached out and swiped a dirty blond lock from Lucas’ forehead.
“You hurt?” Lucas asked. His eyes closed, lids twitching.
Seth bit his lip and swallowed his sobs. He was far from all right, mentally shattered and physically broken, but his spirit clawed at him to be strong for his mate. His lips prickled as he smiled and leaned forward, kissing Lucas on the mouth.
“You’ll be okay, rest and concentrate on healing,” he whispered the brittle words.
“Not what I asked,” Lucas snapped, his breath hot and damp against Seth’s skin.
“I’m fine,” he lied, squeezing out more tears to drip onto Lucas’ lips and ghosted a kiss to his mate. He shuddered as Lucas returned the embrace.
“You’ll come back to me.” Lucas’ weak voice stilled Seth, his breath snagging in his throat at the simple question. He shook when Lucas roared, “Promise me!” The sound settling in Seth’s bones, pulling his skin tight. His wolf whimpered at the power in those words. The power of a true alpha.
“I could never leave you,” Seth rasped and peered at his mate, a faint smile curling the corners of Lucas’s bloody lips.
“Go,” he commanded.
A firm grip on Seth’s neck made him froze; the strong hand squeezing his tense muscles. The voice dark as it rushed over Seth’s skin. “He belongs to you?”
Seth swallowed, his shoulders trembling. He placed as much strength and possession into his voice as his body and wolf had left to give.
“Yes,” Seth whimpered.
Brutal fingers gave his neck another squeeze, before they released him, and the male’s frame threw a shadow over them.
“Nor!” he growled, the sound far more malefic than what a Lycan could muster, part demonic. “Watch this one.”
“Crikey, fuck dickery, why do I gotta babysit the bloody hound?” Nor plopped down, right on Lucas’s chest, making him grunt and choke up blood.
“Oh would you reel it in already. Just focus on healing or lick your balls or some shit… It’s what you bleeding mutts do anyway.” Nor sneered down at Lucas, then, “Blimey, that’s a fat pecker...” The demon-hybrid looked up, violet eyes trained on Seth. “You get to ride this shit, pup? ’Cause, Hell, I don’t bloody see it. That thing would rip you in two.” He winked at Seth.
Seth couldn’t help the heat boiling in his cheeks, despite the current predicament. There was something about Nor, something aberrant and charismatic. It clung to Nor’s skin like an infectious balm. Or maybe it was the softness in his eyes that Seth hadn’t seen in anyone since entering this Hadean-like nightmare. “Go get the Beastie’s pet, he’s been thrashing around like a blue-balled sod, making everyone in the club have to deal with his shit. Imma sick of it.” Nor reached inside his leather jacket, pulled out a smoke, and placed it between his lips before he clicked his fingers in front of the cigarette, setting it aglow.
Seth pushed off the floor, turning his attention to the ‘Beast,’ the face set like stone, sneering as their gazes met. Seth mapped his attention over the scar again, and sucked in a breath. It couldn’t be, and yet…recent whispers among the supernatural communities that had sprung up in the last seven years…along with the old stories his mother had told him from a book filled with half-truths, murmured in Seth’s memory. But it was a passage that always made Seth shiver, that hooked itself into his mind
And I saw one of his heads as it were wounded to death; and his deadly wound was healed: and all the world wondered after the beast.
Seth couldn’t breathe as the male’s glower cut over him. That eye held destruction and wrath. He swallowed, the blood in his veins like muck moving at a snail’s pace. A tremor palpated down his muscles as his voice betrayed him.
“La Bête de la Mer.”
“Don’t speak my name, dog!” the Beast growled, rattling Seth to the floor. He advanced, fisted Seth by the hair and yanked him up, before driving him in the direction of the inky hallway. That grip was ruthless, sending painful flares and stings into his raw scalp.
They moved, not uttering a word, keeping to Seth’s pace down the hallway.
He kept his head bowed as the male’s presence burned into his skin. They weren’t far from where the human boy was being held. But the stretch didn’t matter, not to the haunting images flashing over and over in Seth’s head. This place held so much pain for him, a fear that came at his heart to sink its rotten teeth into the pounding organ. He had to force himself not to pull away and keep moving when the grip on his hair tightened, the Beast spitting out a stygian grunt.
“Faster!” the Beast snapped, shoving Seth forward and releasing him. Seth forced himself to focus on something and keep his mind preoccupied as he led the male farther down the hallway.
The Beast should have been able to sniff out the human boy. Unless, for some reason, he had lost his ability to smell. There were other ways supernaturals could lose one of their senses, certain sorcery called for the sacrifice or payment in the form of one of the caster’s attributes, whether it be a limb, bone, an organ, blood or one of their senses.
Seth grimaced, those type of sorceries usually heralded a sinister purpose. The craft was not favored amongst the supernatural, regardless if they were loyal to the ‘good or dark’ side.
Sorcery’s consequences never came lightly.
A frisson raked through him when they rounded the corner, the scent of the white demon slamming him in the face, setting loose a turbulent storm in his blood, but the air was laced with another’s, one that had always brought him comfort and the feel of sanctuary. Seth stopped when the glass’ shimmer caught his eye, and turned to his right. The male’s daunting presence tingling over his skin the closer he came.
Pressing himself against the glass, he laid each hand against the cool surface, the chill of the room penetrating the transparent barrier and filtering into his palms. The human boy was in a corner, head tucked between his knees where he sat, naked and shivering. It was as if a reflection of himself was thrown back at Seth. Despite their differences in appearance, their comparison in vulnerability spoke volumes to him. The boy did not shiver from the cold alone, more so from fear. And Seth could still feel that same fear slither along his bones. He squeezed his eyes closed, a death clamp claiming his heart… He knew if he ever survived this horror, the real war was still waiting. He would still have to face the scars this nightmare had left on his soul.
The low, deadly growl from behind Seth made him pull back, bumping into the male’s body. His heart still pulsating from the dark sound. His frame rippled in quivers.
“I-I don’t think they’ve experimented on him…” Seth rasped.
The male was ablaze with anger, Seth didn’t need his wolf to tell him that, the popping knuckles and sheer violent twitch of the Beast’s frame was enough.
A fist sliced through the air, slamming into the glass, and splitting the barrier into small, tiny pockets created by the cracks decorating the surface.
The male ripped his fist free, dark crimson soaking from where some of the shards were embedded in flesh, knuckles skinned raw and pink, glazed with red. He stepped around Seth, his neck muscles straining, jaw clenched tightly, canines protruding. His blazer jacket now held in one hand, his dress shirt drenched with sweat while muscle and bone moved underneath. Mercilessly, the Beast slaughtered the barrier with his fist, cleaving and peeling away sheets of shatterproof glass and discarding them behind him.
Seth’s attention shifted fast when a scream sliced through the air, hoarse and raw. He g
rabbed at his neck, squeezing and drawing blood as he clutched hard, making sure the screams of terror weren’t his own. The sounds were bone-numbingly close to the ones that had ripped from Seth’s throat when the white demon had assaulted him. He stared at the human boy, watching him hold his head, pissing himself and heaving for breath. Seth closed his eyes, tasting that fear, bitter in his mouth… The noise a callous remnant like fingernails scraping the inside of his skull, rocked Seth hard, forcing him back, falling over his own clumsy feet onto his ass.
With a final growl the male stepped through the opening, advancing towards the boy.
“You’re a monster!” the boy screamed, his face red, veins angry, protruding on his forehead. Tears still dripped from his eyes as he attempted to shove himself back into the wall.
Seth swallowed, the memory leaving a vicious sting in his mouth. He had tried that countless times, knowing that no matter how hard he fought, how much he forced himself to resist and be strong, the outcome would be the same regardless.
The Beast stepped in front of the boy, crouched and reached out. The human lashed back, flailing his arms, clawing and throwing punches, even attempting to kick at the mammoth Beast. Seth’s heart stilled as the Beast caught the boy’s arms and gently took him into an embrace. He sat on the floor, pulling the kid into his lap, and held him against his chest. The human still cried, only the Beast ran his hand carefully down the boy’s back, fingers ghosting over skin, inspecting, searching for any mark or blemish and, at the same time, trying to comfort him. The lash in Seth heart ripped him open when the Beast pressed his face to the human’s dirty hair, and murmured, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, my little one, forgive me.”
The gentleness of those words, so carefully spoken, made Seth shiver on the hard, cold floor. A burn in his eyes as he realized this human boy was no other than the Beast’s mate.
Neon White Season One: A Tooth, Claw and Horns Chronicle Page 25