Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            Hadn’t she asked him this before? He shook his aching head. “I’m alone.”

            “Wolves are pack animals; they never travel alone.”

            “This one did.” He’d been too impatient to wait for Ormlo to free his men from their cells and remove their vassals. And Munro hadn’t exactly expected trouble retrieving a mortal female. “You forget I’m as much man as beast.”

            She cast him a look of distaste. “You make that easy to forget.”

            He snapped his fangs.

            Unfazed, she laughed at him. “Such aggressive behavior toward your fated one?”

            He grated, “I have no’ eaten or slept in weeks. Have no’ had a nip of whiskey nor a female beneath me in just as long. All I’ve known is torture. On the heels of that, my mate tried to behead me. If you want my aggressive behavior to change, then fucking incentivize me.”

            “Ah, you want me to be polite to my abductor. Be nice to you.” Voice a throaty purr, she said, “Should I cower for you, dragul meu? Will that make you feel strong?”

            He growled with frustration. “I took you to save your life. That blade of yours can only help you prevail against immortals for so long. Which means you canna fight them again. Ever.”

            Her eyes sparked with fury. “You don’t have the right to control me, you infernal lout.”

            “If you’re going to hold your life so cheaply, then aye, I do.”

            “Not cheaply. Nobly. I have a noble duty, passed down through my family on both sides, to hunt the monsters—”

            “Quiet!” He eased his pace as a foul scent hit him.

            She sputtered with outrage and kicked him with a slippered foot. “You did not just order me to be quiet. I will skin you so slowly for that. I’ll tack your wolven hide to the wall of my wagon!”

            “Ghouls.” He turned his head from side to side, detecting movement in all directions. Their putrid green glow lightened the woods, their moans echoing. “We’re surrounded.”





SIX





            “Give me my knife!” Ren hissed to the wolf. “I can fight.”

            “No’ a chance.”

            “A single scratch will turn even you. But I have experience with them. Believe me when I tell you this.” She’d decimated their numbers. “Damn it, listen to me!” She pounded her fists on the Lykae’s chest.

            Her hits faltered when dozens of ghouls burst through the woods toward them, a green wave of gangling limbs. They loped closer, their toxic fangs and claws bared.

            He told her, “Cover your ears.”

            After a hesitation, she did as he bade.

            He roared—not like before, not crazed—yet the ghouls froze. Then, in a flurry of movement, they fled; their shrieks trumpeted as they tore through the brush to escape a monster that terrified even them.

            She lowered her hands. “They’re headed right toward my people!”

            “That should keep them all busy.”

            She twisted against his viselike grip. “Whatever the warlocks did to you wasn’t enough! And it will look like child’s play compared to what I’m capable of!”

            His jawline tightened as he resumed running.

            She couldn’t help worrying about Jacob and the others facing off against those ghouls, but they were skilled fighters. They could handle themselves in challenging circumstances.

            For herself, she had only one shot of escaping this wolf—by reclaiming her blade. The Lykae would have to lower his guard sooner or later, and she’d be ready to strike.

            She still couldn’t believe she hadn’t taken his head earlier. And why hadn’t she simply stabbed him in the groin when he’d awakened by the trench? What was it about him that made her behave so out of character?

            Next time, she wouldn’t hesitate. Nonetheless, onward. That was the circus’s battle cry, the motto Ren lived by.