Scarred Wolf by Charlene Hartnady

27

Jaxon

I movearound the car to open the door for her. She had her hand on my thigh for the entire drive home, stroking lazy circles through the fabric. It’s driven me almost out of my mind. But that damn pinging of impending danger is out of control and my eyes sweep the area around the underground parking lot of her apartment building as I swing the door wide and reach for her hand. I need to get her inside. To be alone with her. To keep her safe while I figure this out. I’m not on form out here when I’m around her, and I want to shake sense into myself.

Cut yourself some slack, Skau. She’s in heat, dammit.

What male wouldn’t be distracted? I just don’t have that luxury, knowing what’s out there. She gives a rueful smile, seeming a little overwhelmed by my attention, but she’s not arguing. She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.

I still haven’t told her about my fears – but where would I even begin, without explaining my role in it all? How would she ever understand? That I was sent here to kill her? Holy fucking shit!

My father is ruthless as a leader. He has to be, or someone else will step up. I know he’ll be ruthless in this, too. He’s coming after Everleigh because of her parent’s role in my mother’s death. It doesn’t seem right anymore. Not now that I know her…and that’s not my dick talking.

Out of the vehicle, Everleigh is standing before me, swaying slightly, nostrils flaring as the wolf within her takes over, instinctively alert. I’d probably be doing the same thing if my head wasn’t so messed up with citrus, cinnamon, and sex.

I hear a low scraping sound nearby; a boot across concrete…somewhere deep down, years of training still have some way of identifying the sound. Her eyes widen as she stares at something over my shoulder.

I know that it’s them. I feel their presence more strongly now, lurking in the shadows around us. The wolves I sensed in the office precinct. I’d known they were there…just couldn’t put my finger on it. Shifting shapes mingling with my paranoia. Not knowing if it was real danger or just my lust-induced fog around Everleigh. Every male presence a threat. I curse myself. My need for her has compromised my guard. And now it’s too late.

I don’t have time to turn around. A crack at the back of my skull knocks the light from me. My knees crumple, but I fight it, staggering. Iron hands clamp on my arms as I flail for whatever hit me. Another blow knocks me forward and I hear Everleigh’s sharp cry. Muffled grunts and the sounds of a scuffle surround me as the cold floor of the parking garage rushes up to meet me. I’m still trying to get to my feet, but something cold and hard presses sharply up between my shoulder blades. I hear a familiar click and with it comes dread; the cocking of a revolver before a finger hits the trigger. Then a sharp explosion shatters the air and pain radiates through my chest, seizing the air in my lungs.

The fuckers have shot me. These fuckers sent by my own father! Cowards who would jump me from behind and shoot me in the back. I want to bellow with rage, but all I can do is choke out a sound, my voice gurgling as I taste the blood bubbling up my throat. I know my lungs are filling with it, my chest a mangled mess. I’m flooded with a combination of shame and regret. Cowards they may be, but I wasn’t enough of a wolf to fight them off…to defend my female. I’ve failed her before we even began.

“Jaxon! Please, no! God, no!” Everleigh screams, and then the sound is muffled, as if someone has clamped a hand over her mouth.

Jesus…Evie!

I fight the dark wave that consumes me, but it’s futile. My body’s failing…dying…

The last thing I see as my vision fades to black is the sight of four burly shifters dragging away my Evie Moone. My female. I needed more time. I needed…

* * *

Everleigh

They tear me away,screaming, my eyes fixed on the unmoving form of Jaxon on the floor, blood pooling around him.

“No!” I scream, gnashing at the hand over my mouth. My voice is hoarse, guttural… and I feel her taking over. I twist and writhe in the grip of my attackers, raking claws down flesh, teeth snapping at anything that comes within reach.

“Fuck! What are you doing back there? Where’s the needle?” a voice shouts roughly behind my ear. The men trying to hold me are cursing with the exertion.

“I’m trying, goddammit! She kicked it out of my hand!” another voice growls back. Whatever these are, they’re not men as I know them. Yet I lash out, enraged. Agonized.

“Jaxon!” I wail. And Smokey roars with rage. I wildly grab at the man closest to me, hear him grunt, and then I sink my teeth into flesh.

“Jesus! Jesus, my arm! She’s got my arm!” he screams, and I taste iron in my mouth, raw meat. A blood fury blinds me as Smokey takes over and I let her, fangs shearing through muscle and tendon, into bone. I have him down on the floor and he’s screaming incomprehensibly and thrashing as I twist my head and rip into him. A weight lands heavily on my back, but I shake it free, dimly aware of something flying away from me. Another beast. I’ll get him next.

“For Christ’s sake, is she fucking glowing? Oh my fuck, she’s one of them, isn’t she?” someone cries out.

One of who?

I can’t hold on to the thought; they scatter into the wind as my wolf growls and snarls.

“Where the fuck is that syringe? She’s killing him!” the guy shrieks.

The man beneath me has stopped struggling, lying limp, his shoulder and throat a mangled mess. I throw back my head and howl, feeling stickiness coating my face, my…fur!

“She’s shifting! Goddamn you! It’s too late!”

“No! I got it! Hold her still!”

I feel someone make a frantic grab around my torso, another has my legs, but I’m barely aware of them, until a sharp pain stabs into the back of my neck.

Smokey yelps, and white-hot agony rips through me. I scream and try to free a hand to rake at my neck, but it’s too late. Whatever they’ve injected into me is flooding my body, taking away my ability to control my arms, my legs. I feel myself slump onto the motionless man on the floor, the smell of his blood still sweet in my nostrils as the others reach for me roughly and drag me away.

“Thank fuck!” one of the men heaves out. I don’t listen to the rest of their words. The sensation has become something altogether unthinkable now. No longer pain – I’m consumed by fire. The fight leaves me as I realize how pointless it is. The sight of my lover on the ground, unmoving in his spreading blood, burns itself into my brain. I can’t feel Smokey. I can’t feel my wolf. It has me freaking out.

Unconsciousness, when it comes, is a welcome relief from the pain that shreds my heart more violently than whatever they pumped into my veins.

Jaxon!

My Jaxon!

He’s dead.

* * *

Everleigh

I come roundto the sound of muffled voices somewhere near me. For a moment, confusion overwhelms me.

Where am I? What the hell is going on?

I try to look around, but the darkness envelops me. The floor moves beneath me, and I roll helplessly with it.

The stench of exhaust fumes. Low vibration. Constant movement. Muffled voices.

I’m in the trunk of a car.

I try to call out, but I’ve been gagged with something. Tastes like a filthy old sock. The voices continue, still muffled, but my heightened senses pick them out. Familiar. The men in the parking lot. The ones who took me. The ones who—

Jaxon!

I fight back a sob as it all comes rushing back. They shot him in the back, the fucking cowards.

The men are speaking among themselves. I pick out the occasional sentence. Mostly cursing.

“Fucking bitch bit me,” one is saying.

“You got off lightly. We left Caine behind, remember?”

As I hear the words, an image flashes of a blood-spattered body beneath me. I dimly remembered part of me feels sick. I can still smell his blood. It’s dried on my skin, caked and coating.

“What the hell is she?” a third voice joins in. Just how many of them are there? I wonder.

“You know what she is,” the second wolf says.

“Surely not!”

From the way I’m flopping around in the back here, whatever they injected me with hasn’t worn off yet. Smokey is unnaturally quiet, and it’s freaking me out. It’s weird that feeling my wolf in me a day or two ago had the same effect. Right now, I want to feel her, hear her. Know that she’s there…but I’m getting nothing. I pray it has something to do with the drugs these assholes gave me. I’m not going to panic. I can’t afford it.

“She’s an alpha,” the first one is saying in answer to the question. “Boss needs her taken out. Threat to the pack.”

“Nah…that’s not an alpha,” the third voice is replying. “I’ve been around them when they go in to kill. They’re mean, but that…that was next level. She was fucking glowing, man! That’s no wolf.”

I listen closely, trying to grasp what they’re saying. Not a wolf? What are they talking about? I’ve seen her…felt her. Smokey is a wolf. She’s my wolf. Part of me. Jaxon told me so. There’s a sob bubbling up. If I could do it now, I’d release a mournful howl.

“I’m telling you, that’s not a normal wolf.”

“She’s a double-alpha,” the other one says.

“I don’t want any part of this shit, man. Doesn’t feel right.”

“Says the man who just shot a guy in the back,” says the first voice.

“That was different. He’ll be—”

“Just shut it. We have a job. We get her to the boss and then we clock out. Done.”

Not done, I think bitterly. Not fucking done. I’m cataloging every one of those voices, and as soon as I’m out of here, regardless of whether I’m a wolf, or some other unholy terror, they’ll know exactly what I am.

Their worst fucking nightmare.

I feel sweat beading on my brow as I strain to feel some response as I continue to try to move. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to get a message from my brain to my uncooperative limbs.

There’s sharp movement again and I roll as the vehicle veers. We’re on a dirt road now, I’m certain of it. I can smell the dust. I’m jostled and bounced as the car barrels down what has to be a dirt track. The men are quiet now, perhaps anticipating the end of the trip. My fingers twitch. Yes! I felt them twitch; I did! I hear a growl inside me, it’s soft but there. Smokey! I’m elated for half a second before my predicament comes back to me. But the quiet terror I’ve been suppressing begins to dissipate. I have my wolf. My paralysis isn’t permanent. I can do this!

Time! I need more time!

But the car has come to a halt with a jolt, and I hear doors slam, voices fading into the distance. There is silence for a while. I frantically wriggle my fingers, twist my hands at my wrists. Past the first barrier of complete lack of movement, sensation is rushing back. It burns, but I don’t care. I can move!

Just a few more minutes…just a few—

Boots crunch on gravel. The trunk creaks and groans as it’s hauled open. I stare up, blinking at the dark shape that looms over me, silhouetted against a night sky illuminated by the moon. I visually trace the sharp angle of a jaw carved from granite. Sharply angled cheekbones. Smokey whines.

Oh, my god!

In the silvery light, eyes the color of mercury glitter down at me.

“Hello, Everleigh Moone.”