by C. R. Jane
“No crying, sweetheart. Just know that you’ll never be alone again.” I took a deep breath, hoping she would be up for my plan. “I want to teach you something though,” I blurted out.
She studied me with an arching eyebrow. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“Good.” With her hand in mine, I drew her out onto the lawn, my thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. Having her so close to me so often was like a time-bomb waiting to go off. All I thought about was pinning her to the ground and tasting those gorgeous lips. I was drowning in her scent, and I honestly had no clue how Daxon kept it together while she worked at the diner.
Standing in the middle of the yard, I swung her out in front of me. “Alright. I’m going to teach you some fighting moves. Enough to give you time to escape.”
“Oh,” was all she said, like it had been the last thing on her mind.
I reached down to my boot and took out the small knife I always keep on hand. I spun it across my fingers and presented her with the hilt.
“For you,” I insisted. “Daxon told me how savage and beautiful you were when you fought Alistair’s men up in the mountain before Miyu’s wedding. Your wolf is your armor, but sometimes you’ll need something else too.”
She accepted the weapon, her fingers curling around the leather hilt and flicking her wrist to get a sense for the weapon.
“I want to show you wolf moves too, but we’ll do that later on.”
She blinked against the sun in her eyes when she raised her head. “I’m going to be terrible at this.”
“We’ll see,” I told her with a grin. “Half the key to hand to hand combat is having the will to win .” I placed a flat palm over her heart. “And I know you already have that in spades. You couldn’t have survived everything you’ve been through without it.”
Her free hand settled over mine, her touch so tender, so small, but inside this beautiful creature lay a warrior. And I had every intention of bringing her out.
“Okay, then,” she said and retreated a couple of steps, then flung the knife around in the air wildly, clearly having fun. Her breasts bounced in her blouse from her rapid moves, and all I could imagine were those perfect rosy tips in my mouth.
“Teach me,” she continued, breaking me out of my spell.
My lips pulled into a grin. Goddess, I needed to get my shit together and focus.
I closed the distance between us and swung an arm around the front of her shoulders, pivoting myself behind her and driving her back against my chest.
She gasped at my sudden movement.
“When attacked from behind, the assailant will usually lock an arm around your neck. So you have several options. The two main ones are to grab your blade from your belt or bag as you want it as close as possible for easy access. Swinging it back to hit them in the gut is an awkward move from your angle, so go for the face. Throw your arm up with all your strength, striking him hard and fast. He won’t see it coming.”
She swung her arm in that same moment, just as I instructed, the blade glinting in the sunlight as it raced for my eyes. A slight rush filled me as I saw my impending death, and I ducked sideways to avoid being pierced. She’d pick this up quicker than I thought.
“Good,” I said. “Another option is to ram your heel into their foot. Their hold will ease, and you spin around as fast as you can, then drive the blade right into his gut.”
I spun her by her shoulders to face me, and she was nodding.
“What happens if one man holds me by my neck from behind, and another stands in front of me?”
I couldn’t ignore the seriousness behind her gaze or how her words trembled when she asked as if she had experienced this first hand.
“Then, sweetheart, you ram your knife into the gut of the asshole in front of you, stomp the other's foot and run. There’s no shame in running when you’re outnumbered.”
The breeze blew through her white hair, and she stood there, lost in her thoughts. Piercing blue eyes glistened beneath the sun. If I could, I would have frozen time, preserving this moment where she might easily be mistaken for an angel.
“I wish I could take away all your pain,” I told her.
She glanced up at me as if my words broke through her thoughts, and the smile she gave me became lopsided.
I grabbed her wrist and snatched the blade out of her fingers. “You’ve dropped your blade. What do you do if you’re tackled?” I tucked the blade in the back of my belt. And in a swift move, I knocked her legs out from under her with my leg, and I wrapped an arm around her back as we both tumbled to the ground.
She huffed out loud, and I rolled her over instantly, pinning her onto her stomach, my body on top of hers. I went to grab her wrists, but she bucked against me, her sweet ass hitting me in the groin so unexpectedly, I groaned as she squashed the jewels.
I moaned, “W-well d-done.”
She laughed beneath me, and I rolled onto my back, sucking in a breath as the sharp pain jolted across my balls. I was certain I was seeing stars.
Fuck! I winced, shuddering with a tightness like someone was squeezing them to death.
Suddenly, Rune was straddling me and holding the blade to my throat. When did she grab my knife?
Slightly surprised, but completely amused, I was half laughing, half groaning in pain, utterly smitten with her. To see how quickly she turned and knew how to take advantage of the moment had me feeling even crazier about her than normal.
I stared at her evil grin as she knew she’d done well.
“No hesitation,” I say. “When you get the enemy down, you strike fast.”
She nodded. “Always kill.”
“Good girl.”
But she wasn’t moving off me or removing the blade from my throat. Her gorgeous legs tightened around my hips, the heat from between them a fire burning through my clothes, calling to me, reminding me of everything I wanted from her. There was a bewitching sensation, where I felt the lick of pain from the knife, but my arousal still spiked. She pressed on my growing bulge.
“You like to see me this way? Under your control?” I asked.
She nodded, a blaze igniting behind her eyes, arousal bleeding through me. Her nipples hardened, pushing against the fabric of her shirt. She rocked her hips over my cock, studying me as the corners of her lips curled upward.
I needed her naked, riding me.
A cool breeze blew between us, and with it came a reminder that I couldn’t get distracted. I wanted her to be powerful and never be captured again.
I grabbed the hand she used to hold a knife to my throat and pushed it away from me, squeezing. That beautiful expression morphed into one of pain and she cried out until she dropped the knife.
My heart clenched, but she had to learn. “What will you do in this situation?”
Before she could respond, I rolled over rapidly, sending her onto her side. Just as quickly, I swiftly tucked my arms under her and brought her to her feet. Then I pulled back a step, waiting for her response.
She was gasping for air. “Shit, you moved so fast.”
“Use anything you have. In that case, headbutt the attacker. It will give you a moment when he loses his focus and you can run.”
She nodded and picked up the blade from the ground, studying it with a newfound determination.
Instinctually, I stepped forward.
I said, “Are you ready to become a warrior?”
She lifted her chin, resolution crossing her face. If there was one thing above all else that I loved about Rune, it was her fierceness. She never gave up fighting in this fucked up world. And she was going to need that drive to survive.
10
Rune
Daxon was on edge the entire time we walked down the street, tension practically emanating out of him.
"We don't have to do this," I told him softly, stroking his arm reassuringly.
He took a deep breath and sighed heavily, some of his stress seeming to dissipate at my touch. We were supposed to be
on our way to the restaurant where we'd had our first date. It had been his idea. But now that we were actually doing it, he looked like he was prepared to grab me and run home if anyone looked at us wrong.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I do want to do this," he assured me, pulling me in closer to him until we were walking hip to hip, practically in sync.
Someone passed by us on the sidewalk and they raised their hand in greeting to Daxon. Instead of doing the whole sunshine thing that I was used to with Daxon, he flashed his teeth and growled at the offending townsperson. The poor guy was so terrified that he fell backwards, inching away like a crab as he struggled to get away as fast as possible.
"Daxon," I chastised softly. I still didn't know what to think about this new Daxon. It made my panties wet, that was for sure. But I felt like I'd made Daxon into someone new, someone so different from who he’d been when I met him that he was practically unrecognizable.
Or maybe I was giving myself too much credit. If I was honest with myself, I hadn't asked him what was going on, because I was a little afraid of what the answer was going to be.
For right now, I'd told myself that this was just a phase.
A phase that I didn't really want to end.
I was for sure going to hell.
"He was looking at you," Daxon growled, and it took me a minute to understand what he was talking about. I was always doing that since I'd been back, getting lost in my head so much that it felt impossible for me to actually hold a conversation with anyone.
"That's hardly a crime. And anyways, I'm pretty sure he was looking at you."
Daxon didn't respond, just held me even tighter as we got to the restaurant. He opened the door for me and I took a step inside, only to be abruptly pulled away.
I looked back at him questioningly. The light from the restaurant fell on his face softly. In any other circumstance, I would have been obsessed with just staring at him, at how beautiful he was. But not right then. Daxon's face was full of terror as he stared at the packed restaurant. I watched as his hand drifted to the long, serrated knife he'd taken to wearing around his waist, as if he was going to grab it and start stabbing everyone.
"Daxon," I yelped as I pushed him out the door back into the street. I could feel the questioning stares on my back as the door to the restaurant swung shut behind me.
He leaned over, his hands on his knees as his breath came out in gasps. He abruptly stood and stared up at the starry heavens and let out a roar so loud and desperate that I swore the cobblestones in the road shuddered beneath us.
"Let's just go back to your place," I told him, speaking softly as if I was talking to a rabid animal.
And maybe I was talking to a rabid animal. His eyes were practically sparking as he stared at me, a crazy glint in them that spoke to the wild inside of me. My wolf was feeling a bit feral herself and I was worried I was going to jump him right here in the middle of the street.
I didn't recognize myself lately. It was like I couldn't get enough of either of them. And with Daxon and Wilder practically glued to my side since I'd been back, I was becoming obsessed with them...in every position.
Focus, I told my hungry wolf.
"We can try again tomorrow," Daxon said eagerly as he grabbed my hand, both of us knowing that he'd just lied. I doubted he'd be ready to be around so many wolves the day after that either.
We walked down the street. I was practically sprinting to try and keep up with Daxon whose fast, long strides were eating up the sidewalk.
We'd just turned the corner when he froze, a soft growl ripping from his throat as he stared to the right of us, down an alley that was shrouded in shadows. It was unnaturally dark, the light from the streetlights not making a dent in its depths, like all the light had just been sucked away.
"I need you to run," he murmured to me as he pulled out his knife.
"I'm not leaving you," I told him, my heart beginning to beat so fast in my chest, I felt a bit faint.
Was Alistair back? Was he waiting for us?
Or was it...the strong scent of pine hit me. Pine and blood. It was an odd combination, and one that for some reason struck fear inside me.
"What is it?" I whispered, pulling at Daxon's arm like I could somehow drag him away from the alley and we could just pretend that this never happened.
"One of them is here," Daxon growled, his pupils slanting as his wolf came to the surface. "A hunter."
My fear increased. But so did my rage. I was so fucking sick of being hunted. The memory of being hunted down in the car, of feeling out of my mind with lust while bullets tore at the seats around me, it took over my mind.
That was the only explanation for my actions, then.
I grabbed the knife from the holder I had strapped around my thigh that Wilder had begged me to start wearing, and I lunged into the dark, like I'd never been afraid of it before.
"Rune," Daxon said with a curse, and I knew he was right behind me.
The darkness disappeared then, as if there'd been a curtain and I'd been able to pull it open. A man stood at the end of the alley, surrounded by discarded boxes that were waiting to be picked up by the waste collector. He was dressed in a worn leather jacket, his light blond hair long and wild as it danced in the light breeze floating through the alley. The guy was wearing a necklace with a strange symbol at the end of it, a zigzag with two triangles on either end. I wouldn't have noticed it in the dim lighting if it weren't for the fact that it was glowing.
The man smirked at us, probably because I'd done his job for him and willingly came. Two knives snapped out of the bottom of his jacket and my gaze widened.
I was such a fucking idiot.
Daxon pushed me behind him, the knife tucked into his belt to make way for the sharp claws his hands had transformed into. He held them up threateningly, but the hunter's grin only broadened, like Daxon had pulled out a rubber chicken or something.
Not sure why that had come to mind.
"Hello, wolfie," the hunter grinned. Before he could say anything else, Daxon threw himself at him, catching the hunter off guard. Both of them went crashing to the ground, the hunter letting out a long hiss as Daxon's claws dug into him. Blood began to seep out from beneath their bodies, darkening the ground around them.
"Daxon," I cried, running towards them, sure that there was too much blood for it to have been just the hunter's.
The hunter abruptly flipped Daxon off of him, both of them springing to their feet as the hunter brandished his knives and Daxon brandished his claws that were nearly as long as the knives.
I swore they didn't used to be that long...
Daxon had a long slash on his shoulder, but other than that he didn't seem to be that injured. The hunter, on the other hand, had deep claw marks coming down his chest, but he didn't seem to be affected by them at all. He gave me a macabre smile, his teeth bloody and terrifying.
"I've been watching you," he practically purred as Daxon gave him an answering growl. The hunter flew towards me suddenly, and Daxon lunged at him, his claws shredding the man’s side as he flew past. Daxon wasn't able to get his claws all the way into him or stop him though, because suddenly I found myself on my back on the ground, the hunter on top of me with a look of victory in his mud brown eyes.
I froze for a minute as he stared down at me triumphantly, but it didn't matter, because Daxon tore him off me a second later, leveling him to the ground. Daxon reared back with his claws and then slashed him right across the face. The hunter howled with pain and the sound sent chills down my back.
There was nothing I could do after that. The two began to battle back and forth viciously, rolling all over the ground as both fought to get the upper hand. The sounds of their fighting echoed through the alleyway, somehow not attracting any attention from the street where I was faintly aware that people were still walking past.
I held my knife by my side, feeling stupidly helpless.
The hunter's cry echoed through the night as Daxon slashed a
cross his throat. The hunter began to gurgle as blood went flying, spurts of it drenching me as I stood watching in horror.
"Daxon, no," Wilder yelled as he abruptly soared past me, tearing Daxon off of the hunter where he'd been about to level a death blow.
Daxon roared in response, flying to his feet and throwing himself at Wilder, his wolf clearly in charge and feeling the bloodlust.
The two tussled for a moment while the hunter groaned in pain. I watched as his skin began to mend back together before my eyes.
Of course the hunters would have the same, or better healing power than a wolf.
Why did they hate us so much again? They were clearly the bigger freaks.
"Um guys," I called out as the hunter sat up and shook his head, his gaze locked on mine once again.
I held up my knife shakily, thinking that I probably needed about a million more self defense classes under my belt right about now.
The hunter crouched, about to pounce at me, and then he was tackled from the side by Wilder and Daxon. I heard bones crunch as they fell on top of the hunter, and he tried desperately to throw them off, but he couldn't get out from under them.
Wilder finally reared back and punched him solidly in the head, over and over again until the hunter passed out.
"Let's get him to my house," he growled as Daxon held up his knife. "We need to question why the hunters are after her. It can't be just her scent since it’s being masked."
Daxon sighed frustratedly and grabbed the hunter, throwing him over his shoulder like he was nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
The sight was...sexy.
"Are you alright?" Wilder asked, concerned as he stroked my cheek, spreading the blood that had sprayed all over my face. "Is it weird it kind of makes me hot to see you covered in blood?"
I stared at him, shocked, ignoring the bolt of lust coursing through my body as he touched me.
I officially had a problem.
"If you two are done," Daxon growled as he strode past us.
I squeaked like I'd been caught doing something wrong and hurried after Daxon, keeping my eyes locked on the hunter's motionless back strewn across Daxon's shoulder, just in case he all of a sudden woke up. Wilder must have done something to clear the streets because we didn’t run into anyone once we got out of the alley.