by Lola Taylor
A gentle hand touched her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
She leapt back from Malachite’s touch like she’d been electrocuted. “Get away from me!”
“Is that any way to speak with your mate?” he asked teasingly, remaining crouched on the floor.
“You are not my mate,” she hissed, looking around for a weapon. It seemed Malachite had hidden anything that could possibly be useful in a fight. Of course he had. How else had he managed to maintain a choke hold over a pack of werewolves for so many years as an unmated Alpha? A stupid person wouldn’t be able to pull that kind of thing off. He would have been assassinated ASAP.
Malachite’s eyes hardened. “You can no longer deny me what is rightfully mine.”
“I was never yours to begin with! Why the hell can’t you see that?”
“Perhaps it is you who is blind. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were destined to be mine.” He gestured to her hair. “Your coloring is so similar to hers. In fact, your similarities are so close, you could practically be her doppelgänger.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His eyes grew haunted. “My wife…. She looked like you….”
Danica blinked. “Oh.” She couldn’t imagine this guy being married. “It’s unusual to see a married werewolf,” she said carefully, not wanting to rock the boat too much. He already had a few screws loose.
“Marriage still is an unusual custom in our world,” he replied. “I married her when I was a human.”
“You mean you weren’t born this way?”
“Most of us aren’t. I only got bitten the night a werewolf pack raided my farm and killed my family.”
Ouch. “I’m sorry,” she said lamely. That really did suck. No matter how bad you were, no one deserved to go through something like that. She’d lost just about everyone she’d loved under a rainbow of circumstances, but she could still relate.
“It was a long time ago,” he murmured. His hand tightened into a fist. “I vowed to punish every werewolf I could find and make them suffer as I had suffered.”
Danica went still. “All those atrocities against the Moonstruck Pack… you mean they were for revenge?”
Malachite’s eyes hardened. “It was the Moonstruck Pack that killed my family.”
Danica felt like she’d been slapped. All this time, she’d thought things were simply black and white. Malachite was pure evil and Gage and company were the good guys. Now, she saw so many shades of gray. Things weren’t as starkly painted as she had originally thought. “Does Gage know?” she whispered, feeling shaken.
“No one knows… except you.” He shook his head and looked at her. His gaze was foggy, like he was still trapped somewhere between yesterday and today. It was unnerving.
She tensed as he moved closer.
“But that’s all behind me now,” he said slowly, as if in a trance. “Now that I’ve found you again, I don’t intend on ever letting you go.”
What the…?
Danica swallowed hard and stood, backing up. “Um, Malachite—” Her back bumped into the wall. A table was on one side of her while the bed was on the other. Both potential exits were blocked. Damn, why hadn’t she been more careful and paid attention to where she was going?
She blindly patted the wall, grasping for some kind of object she could use for a weapon. Malachite stood and approached her, blocking off her remaining exit. She could try to duck under him, but she’d already seen up close how fast he was. He’d probably capture her before she could make two steps.
He stared into her eyes and cupped her cheeks. The gesture was probably meant to be tender, but it was almost forceful. Danica couldn’t look away; she could feel him squeezing her jaws, making them ache. “You’re hurting me,” she whispered.
He ignored her, the look in his eyes sending a chill straight through her soul. It was as if he wasn’t seeing her at all, but rather someone else. “I can’t afford to lose you again, Emily.”
Emily?
Did he… did he just call her his dead wife’s name? He did say she looked like her. Was the whole reason for his obsession with her because he was trying to somehow resurrect his dead wife?
She inhaled a breath. “Mala—”
His mouth came down hard on hers, stealing her breath away. She cried out in surprise as he kissed her fervently, the feel of his lips moving against hers foreign and unwelcome. Girls would love to be kissed like this, with this much passion and desire, but all Danica could think was, No, no, no! You’re not Gage! Get off me!
She tried pressing against him, but he must have taken it as an invitation. He wrapped his arms around her, cupping the back of her head when she tried pulling her face away. She clawed at him, but he only growled low in his throat.
“I see you’re as eager for me as I am for you,” he breathed, his deep voice husky. “Very well. No sense in waiting any longer.”
Her worst nightmares came to fruition as he began ripping off the belt of his bathrobe.
“No!” she screamed against his mouth, but he continued kissing her. He ran both hands over her body, tugging at the hem of her shirt while he tried pulling it up. Despite the fact she was fully clothed—ironically, in her “getaway attire,” which consisted of a T-shirt and jeans—the intimate gesture felt violating.
Tears started running down her cheeks as her terror spiked.
He was going to take her, with or without her consent. If she managed to survive that emotionally, would she ever be able to get her life back together once the tattoo completed and they bonded for life?
A future with Malachite sounded too horrible to contemplate. He was too possessive, too deranged.
He wasn’t Gage.
Could she shift in time to stop Malachite from claiming her? Would her wolf be any match against his and whatever powers he’d acquired to beat Gage?
His bathrobe was nearly off when shouts erupted from the hallway and the door literally flew off the hinges. Malachite shoved her against the wall, shielding her as the doors slammed into the opposite wall and splintered.
“What is the meaning of this?” Malachite roared, throwing her behind him. The bathrobe had fallen off in the flurry of movement, leaving him starkly naked.
Two wolves Danica had never been so glad to see in her life ran into the room. One had thick brown fur and was a bit worse for wear than the other. Fresh, red claw marks marred his muzzle, though they were rapidly sealing shut.
Nik.
The other wolf was solid white with eyes the color of a cloudless day. Danica’s heart leapt at seeing her true mate, and her own inner wolf howled with longing.
“Gage!” she cried.
He barked in reply and then leveled his eyes on Malachite, who’d also begun to growl back. His eyes shone gold as his nails lengthened and curled into claws. His teeth had begun to elongate and sharpen, as well, making him look like a piranha when he smiled. “Eager for another whooping, pup?”
Gage’s wolf snarled, the hair along his back spiked and making him look twice as big.
Not giving Malachite time to change, the massive white wolf lunged forward, his open jaws angled for Malachite’s throat.
It’s amazing how your life can be going in one direction one second, and then it suddenly changes in the blink of an eye.
Danica barely got a breath in before Malachite’s flesh literally melted away, replaced by fur darker than midnight. His livid eyes lit up with golden hellfire, and he snarled, rising on his hind legs to tower over the other two werewolves.
He was big as a man and even larger as a werewolf. His teeth easily measured the length of Danica’s forearm. His fur was rather beautiful, reflecting rainbow hues like oil would.
The brown and white wolves lunged at him. Nik went for his legs, latching onto his thigh, while Gage launched himself at Malachite’s throat.
Malachite roared as Nik’s teeth made contact. A double assault must have been too much for him to deflect at once. He focused
on Gage, who would have had a near-perfect hit on Malachite’s throat had the black wolf not knocked him to the side. Gage grunted, landing on his feet and charging again.
Malachite sank his claws into Nik’s back. The brown wolf howled in pain, letting go long enough for Malachite to rip him off. Nik flew through the air, crashing against the wall.
Danica winced as she heard the crack of his skull as it slammed upside the stone fireplace. The wolf slumped down to the floor and slowly morphed back into an unconscious Nik.
A furious growl made the hairs on Danica’s arms stand upright.
Gage slammed into Malachite’s side, sending both werewolves tumbling toward the fireplace. They snarled as they grappled in a blur of fur, glinting claws, and sharp teeth. The smell of freshly spilled blood filled Danica’s nostrils, and her heart leapt to her throat.
She had to do something. She was no longer the girl who stood by and let other people protect her.
She wasn’t going to just let life happen to her anymore.
Summoning her inner wolf, she pulled the golden werewolf to the surface. She gritted her teeth to suppress her screams as her bones and muscles reshaped to turn into a creature three times as powerful as she was as a human.
Her senses sharpened, like someone had turned a dial in her brain. The wolf side of her growled, itching to spring into the action. And despite her fear, Danica trusted her inner wolf completely.
I am strong. I am a force to be reckoned with.
Shutting her humanity off, the golden wolf surged forward into the fray. The snarls and the sounds of snapping teeth that had frightened her as a human only fueled her with adrenaline as a wolf.
Malachite got the upper hand, rolling on top of Gage and pinning a paw against the white wolf’s throat. Danica took her chance and pounced onto Malachite’s back. She bit his shoulder, her paws scrambling for purchase as Malachite reared and bucked.
Danica’s wolf took pleasure in the feel of Malachite’s flesh tearing beneath her teeth. The thrill of the hunt excited her.
Furious, Malachite slammed her against the footboard of the bed. The blow was hard enough to dislodge her, and Malachite turned, his jaws opening around her throat.
He paused when he saw her eyes. The points of his fangs dug into her windpipe. All it would take was one good jerk to tear her throat out, and she’d be dead.
She stared back as confusion played across Malachite’s eyes.
Through all the noise, Danica’s ears pricked at hearing the click of a hammer being cocked on a gun. Malachite heard it too. His large wolf head whirled around, his eyes locking onto a lone guard standing near the doorway.
He was young, possibly still a teenager. His finger trembled along the trigger as he aimed the gun straight for Danica’s chest.
She sucked in a breath right before the gun went off.
Everything moved in slow motion. She could see the bullet barreling toward her, its odd silver surface—
Silver.
Oh, God.
It was a silver bullet.
And it was aimed right for her heart.
She really was going to die this time.
Her heart stopped. So did her brain, because she couldn’t move. Something shoved her out of the way and then a pained yowl came from beside her as the bullet struck home. Her paws slid against the wooden floors as she scrambled to stand upright and turn around.
Malachite’s regal black wolf writhed against the floor as blood spurted from a wound close to his heart.
She shifted back into a human; the pain was nothing compared to the thought that she’d been about to die. She fell beside Malachite as Gage shifted back as well and knelt beside her.
Slowly, Malachite changed back into a man with a cry of pain.
Danica sat there, knowing the humane thing to do would be to comfort him. And yet she found herself unable to touch him. She couldn’t forget what he’d almost done to her. Rape was unforgivable.
Danica couldn’t speak. She stared at Malachite with a heavy weight pressed against her chest. “You saved my life.”
Malachite stared back at her, trembling. “I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t lose you again.”
He still thinks I’m his wife reborn. She didn’t have the heart to correct him. It would have been cruel, considering the circumstances.
Gage squeezed Danica’s shoulder and handed her a blanket to cover up with. “I’m going to see to Nik. And find a healer.”
“No.” Malachite caught Gage’s wrist.
Gage stared down at his former Alpha with confusion.
“Please,” Malachite begged, his voice hardly above a whisper, “just let me die.”
Gage lingered for a moment and at last nodded. Not sensing any threat out of Malachite, he walked off to where a medic was treating Nik, who’d woken up with a nasty gash on his head.
Guards were pouring into the room. It wouldn’t be long before the DPI arrived.
Danica looked back at Malachite to find him staring at something beside her, wearing the happiest smile she’d ever seen. His eyes glistened with tears. “Emily. You came for me.”
Emily? Danica turned but found no one there.
Malachite reached toward the empty space, his hand shaking before it at last fell limp at his side. He sighed his last breath, his eyes closing as his head lolled to the side. His lips were still partially upturned in a smile, making it look like he was only sleeping.
Danica bowed her head and said a prayer for him. He had saved her life. She owed him that much.
Standing, she turned around to survey the chaos in the rest of the room. Her eyes sought out the boy who’d tried to shoot her. She found him pinned against the wall by four guards, one of which was cuffing his hands behind his back.
Wrapping the blanket around herself, she walked toward them. “What’s going on?”
The guards looked at each other, as if they weren’t going to tell her.
Danica growled. “Look, I just got shot at, so I think that warrants an explanation.”
One of the guards, a higher-ranking officer from what it looked like, stepped forward. “It’s all right, boys.” He was older, probably in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair. He had crow’s feet around his eyes, making it look like they were always twinkling. “Captain David Barrett,” he said, bowing.
“Oh,” Danica said, blinking in surprise. “So you’re the man who replaced Gerard?”
“Yep. And just in time too. There’s never a dull moment in this place.” He sighed and scratched his head. “To answer your question, Ms. Johnson, we don’t really know what’s going on. All I can tell you is that this kid isn’t one of my soldiers.”
“What do you mean? He’s an impostor?” He was wearing the same uniform as the castle guards, so she’d assumed he was part of their defenses.
“Sort of. He won’t tell us who hired him and why. Or why he was using silver bullets.” David studied her a moment. “You were shot at while at the mall with Princess Alara the other day, right?”
Danica nodded.
“Hmmm… that’s too much to dismiss as a coincidence. I’d bet the same person hired both shooters.”
Danica swallowed hard. “I don’t understand why someone would want me dead.”
“Your mate—well, I assume he’s still your mate anyway—is running for High King, right? Well, everyone knows an unmated werewolf can’t be an Alpha.”
“You think one of the finalists is behind this and not the witch mafia?”
“I don’t really see what the witch mafia has to gain from this. This sounds more like a werewolf is involved.” He ran a hand over his face with another long sigh. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Hell, he probably hadn’t, considering the mess he’d stepped into when he took the position of captain. “I’m going to question the remaining finalist, Norman Black, myself. If he doesn’t confess, I bet Princess Alara will press to hold a Trial of Light.”<
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“Trial of Light?”
“Yeah. They’re similar to human trials, except they use lie-detecting spells and other fancy things to make sure no one is lying. The attempted assassination of royalty, whether that be of a werewolf royal or that of some other race, is taken very seriously in the Underworld, and you are considered royalty. The phrase ‘innocent until proven guilty’ takes on a whole new meaning.” He rubbed his chin. “Weren’t you almost killed by a Nightshade wolf recently?”
Danica shivered. She had no desire to remember those terrifying moments. “Yes,” she whispered.
The captain’s voice took on a chill that could rival the deepest winter. He bowed stiffly. “You’ll have to excuse me, miss. There’s a certain Nightshade Alpha I’d very much like to interrogate.”
“How do you plead?”
Norman flashed the judge a jovial smile. “Innocent as a virgin, My Lords and Lady.”
The courtroom wasn’t as grand as the meeting room, but it was laid out in a similar style. The shape was circular, with raised rows of plush crimson seats, a section for the jury, the defense, and the prosecution, and a raised dais upon which sat three judges behind a row of podiums. The floors were made of a dark, polished wood that gleamed in the golden glow of the sconces lit around the entire circumference of the room. Crimson curtains hung from the walls, though they were there to provide color more than for practical use, since there were no windows in the room.
The courtroom was filled to the brim with royal werewolves, all of whom witnessed the garden courtyard battle. Norman sat on the witness stand in a fine, pinstriped gray suit with a red silk handkerchief fashionably situated in his coat pocket.
Several feet across from him sat Gage, along with his lawyer. If humans thought mortal law could be twisted and full of loopholes, it had nothing on supernatural laws. It took practicing paranormal lawyers nearly ten years of testing to obtain their licenses.
Megan, his lawyer, also happened to be a werewolf. She had a reputation for being a down-to-earth woman with a keen ear and eye for spotting the loopholes that often allowed criminals to literally get away with murder.