Lycan Vengeance

Chapter Ten

Rose sat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and pushed the eggs around on the paper plate. She hadn’t eaten off of real plates at her own place for years, not wanting any needless possessions to pack up or get rid of when she moved from one house to another. Lately, she’d grown weary of the way she was living, yearned for some permanence. Was it too much to ask to have real dishes and silverware? The strong black coffee was doing little to wake her up this morning after a restless night, and her mood wasn’t helped by the

“poor, poor pitiful me” routine.

She sighed and thought about the dreams she’d had last night of Knox—all with the same outcome, both of them sweaty and naked. She had to get him out of her mind somehow. He’s gone, Rose. Get a hold of yourself.

But she didn’t want to get a hold of herself. She found, odd as it was, she missed him. She wished she’d given in to the urge to make love to him before she’d left.

He would have been amazing to have sex with, and her body still ached for him. No. She had done the right thing. If she had slept with him, she wouldn’t have been able to walk away from him so easily—or maybe not at all. From now on she’d never see another romantic movie or read another romance book that didn’t make her imagine he and she in place of the main characters. Why couldn’t they just be two normal people who’d randomly met? Why did he have to be a lycan?

Everything revolved around that one thing—him being a lycan. Why couldn’t she get past that?

Hadn’t he proven to her that not all lycans were the horrible monsters she’d thought them to be? He protected her, had been gentle with her even when she hadn’t deserved it—like after she’d shot him—and his kisses and touch made her burn. Each time he’d set those smoldering pools of glowing midnight blue upon her, she’d melt a little. She’d never met a man who could say so much with his eyes.

When he watched her, he never bothered to hide the desire that sizzled in his gaze. His eyes said, I want to possess you. I want to eat you up and make you scream in ecstasy, as clearly as his lips ever could. And his body. Oh, she’d never seen a body as delectable as his. She would like nothing better than to use him as her own personal lollipop. She groaned, got up, and took her plate to the trash, where she dumped it and the remaining contents.

She was fighting a losing battle. She’d allowed him to infect her with his eyes, magical touch, delectable lips, and dominant nature. There was no vaccination, no cure for Knox Slade, and she couldn’t deny any longer that she wanted him, that she’d probably always want him. She sighed, walked to the window, and pulled the curtain aside. If she hadn’t looked at the clock moments before, she’d swear the darkening sky was welcoming evening instead of noon. There was a storm coming in, and the thick gray clouds made the day dreary, gloomy, and dark. It reflected perfectly how she felt—heavy, dismal, and volatile.

She let the curtain fall back into place and went to her room to get dressed. She let her robe fall to the floor and put on a pair of black leather pants, black T-shirt, and black leather vest. She then put on heavy socks and black boots and headed for the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled her hair back, twisted it, and secured it on top of her head with a clip.

She needed to find out more about the place Knox called Sanctuary. She wanted to believe a place like that really existed, but needed to see it for herself. And if it was real, she wanted to be a part of it. It would be a way that she could continue to help with the lycan problem, but also a way that she could stop getting her hands bloody. She needed a change, and as loath as she was to admit it, she needed to be around other people, other people who knew what she knew. She’d been alone for a long time, and she didn’t want to be so anymore. But what if the place does exist, and they don’t want you around? She ignored the question her mind whispered.

She still had her parents, but they traveled abroad most of the time, and after Tammy’s murder, her withdrawal had put quite a strain on their relationship. They’d always love her, as she would them, but they didn’t understand her, nor could they ever really. She’d never tell them about lycans. She couldn’t willingly subject anyone she loved to that knowledge. She stayed in touch with them via phone. It was better to remain distant from them, especially since she carried the scent. She didn’t want to risk putting them in danger.

She’d never forgive herself if something happened to them because of her. She repacked her duffel bag and got more weapons from her stash in the closet, although now that Knox had told her that silver had no affect on lycans, she wasn’t sure she should even bother. But ineffective weapons were better than no weapons at all. She was in constant danger, and she had to have the means to protect herself somehow, even if that protection would only slow the enemy down.

A half hour later, she was ready to go, but decided to wait and see how bad the snowstorm got before trudging out in it. She set the duffel bag by the front door, plopped on the couch, and flipped on the television.

After a few minutes of surfing through the local news and adjusting the rabbit ears to get a somewhat viewable channel—she didn’t watch television enough to bother with satellite or cable—it was evident that she wouldn’t be heading out until tomorrow morning. The storm wasn’t going to be as bad as many she’d seen, but she wasn’t fool enough to risk being stranded in it either.

She stretched out on the old blue sofa that had seen better days, and closed her eyes. She’d relax for a bit and then figure out what she’d cook for dinner.

Rose slowly opened her eyes to a dark room lit by the low glow of the television. Her restless night had apparently taken a toll, and her short nap turned into a few hours of much needed sleep. She sat up and arched her back in a catlike fashion, smiling when it popped in just the right place. She rubbed her eyes and wondered if she should even bother with dinner, but just as she was about to get up and go to the kitchen, all of the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood straight up.

She stilled and cocked her head to the side. Her inner warning bells were clanging away as they had at

Knox’s when the rogue attacked her. She scanned the room, but couldn’t find anything alarming.

Even though she couldn’t detect any immediate danger, it was there nonetheless. She dropped slowly to the floor and inched her way toward the duffel bag by the front door.

It seemed to take forever to inch across a few feet of space, but she wanted to make as little movement as possible. She dug around in the bag and pulled out a gun and dagger, a weapon for each palm. She scooted to the wall and had just pressed her back against it when a thud sounded on the front door, which was right beside her. Her heart hammered in her chest, and if she was right about what was outside her door, it could probably hear each frantic thump.

She swallowed hard and started belly crawling toward the bedroom, but before she got halfway there, the front door splintered, and wood sprayed across the room. She rolled onto her back just as a giant red wolf landed at her feet. She cried out in surprise, aimed, and shot the lycan. Its yelp told her she’d hit her target, but she knew her advantage would be a short one before it recovered. She got up and ran for the bedroom, praying that she’d wounded the wolf bad enough for it to decide she wasn’t worth the bother.

Just as she made it to her room, the window shattered, and another wolf jumped through. This one was bigger and black, with glowing eyes, and fangs dripping saliva. She figured his back would come almost to her waist. She pointed the gun and fired a shot as the wolf leaped and sailed through the air.

Her last thought as the wolf hit her hard, driving her to the ground with its weight, was that she was about to die. As her head smacked the wood floor hard, blackness swam before her eyes, then engulfed her, dragging her down into oblivion. Thank God she wouldn’t be awake for whatever was about to happen to her.

When Knox arrived at Rose’s house and saw the shattered front door, murderous rage hit him hard, blurring his vision with a red haze. The smell of the lycans was pungent, and he leaped from the truck after he’d slammed it into park. Curved claws shot through his fingertips, fangs erupted from his gums, and the familiar heat of his inner wolf coming to life seared the blood in his veins.

He let out a howl that nearly shook the house as he ran inside. There was blood on the living room floor, and near-crippling pain tore through his chest at the thought of Rose being hurt. When he got to the bedroom door, the rage inside him boiled to a level he’d never felt in his life. There were three of them. One red wolf who appeared to have been shot—dumbass hadn’t even shifted to human and back again to heal the wound—

a gray wolf, and a black. The black bastard stood over Rose’s unconscious body sprawled on the floor.

There was about to be three dead wolves, and he wasn’t inclined to show them one ounce of mercy.

“Hey assholes.” All three wolves turned their heads toward him. He wondered at their level of stupidity, as they hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge his warning howl or his presence until he’d said something.

Immediately, the gray and red wolves shifted to their human forms. They looked like damned kids barely in their twenties, and while he felt sorry that he was now going to have to kill three of his kind, he understood that it was something that couldn’t be helped. None of them held the despair in their eyes that the lycan from the other night had—the one he had hope for. No. These were too far gone for reformation, and it was his duty to do what was necessary.

He hated killing, but the thought of these punks getting their hands on other potential mates made him sick. If he hadn’t found Rose now, they would have either killed her or taken her, and he most likely would have never seen her again. How many other lycans had been deprived of their mates because of the actions of these rogues? Crippling despair tore through him.

“Who the fuck are you?” The red wolf, who was now a red-haired punk, snarled at Knox.

“I’m your worst enemy, boy, and that there is my mate.”

“She’s got the scent. That makes her fair game to all of us. If you want to join in on the fun, you’re more than welcome. Otherwise, I’d get out of here before you get hurt.” Red Hair spoke again while the man with silvery hair, who had shifted from the gray wolf, inched toward him.

Knox growled and took a menacing step toward them while keeping an eye on the black wolf still too close to Rose for his comfort. He wanted to rip them to shreds—would rip them apart—but he had to be careful for Rose’s sake.

“You obviously have no idea who you’re talking to. Either that or you have to be the dumbest motherfuckers I’ve ever met.” Knox noticed the men’s eyes widen when the idiots finally realized he was partially changed, and now understood what exactly they were up against.

“Yeah. I’m an ancient, and I’m going to tear your balls off and make you eat them for touching my mate.”

“Ancient or not, there’s three of us,” Silver Hair taunted, but now the cocky confidence the pup had exuded only seconds before was laced with fear.

“You really are dumb motherfuckers, aren’t you?” Knox snorted. “It wouldn’t matter if there were ten of you. You young pups don’t stand a chance against me. So let’s get this party started, shall we?”

The words had barely left Knox’s mouth when the black wolf jumped at him, jaws snapping, going for his neck. At the very last second, Knox twisted and brought his claws up in one smooth motion, ripping the wolf’s stomach open from throat to ass. Blood and guts spilled on the floor, and he knew the black wolf would not recover. He turned to the two men still standing where they’d been before their friend attacked him.

“Two to one now, boys. Who’s next?” He raised a brow and smirked, mocking their stupidity outright.

A soft murmur distracted Knox, and he turned to find Rose awake and propped up on her elbows, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open, probably in shock. His heart thudded in relief at knowing she was okay, but suddenly Red Hair—catching Knox off guard—clocked him one in the face that sent him careening backward, and Rose cried out.

“No!” She tried to crawl toward him, but the silver-haired punk grabbed her.

Knox quickly recovered and blocked the next blow from Red Hair. He drove his palm into the man’s nose, satisfied by the resounding crunch and blood spray. The rogue yelped in pain, but recovered quickly and came at Knox once again. Knox dodged the charging pup, grabbed him by the head as he sailed past him, and twisted. The popping bones and instant slump of the rogue’s body were testament that the pup’s neck had been broken. He let the dead wolf’s limp body fall to the floor.

Knox slowly turned to see Silver Hair still had Rose, but now he had her back pulled up against his chest and held her in a choke hold. Knox clenched and unclenched his fists, claws digging into his skin of his palms with each flex. The need to get to her, to protect her at any cost was so overpowering he almost fell to his knees.

“Look.” He spread his arms wide. “Take me, but don’t hurt her.”

“You think I’m that big of an idiot?” Silver Hair practically screamed. “I let her go, and you kill me. I don’t let her go, and you’ll kill me anyway, so I might as well cause you some suffering before I die.” He tightened his arm around Rose’s throat, and her face turned red as she struggled for her next breath.

“You’re right. I’ll kill you either way, but if you let her go, I promise to make it fast. If you hurt her, I’ll make you pay slowly and painfully.”

The rogue’s eyes flared with fear, and his arm relaxed a fraction. Rose’s hand inched up to her waist, and

Knox’s heart nearly stalled in his chest when he realized what she was about to do. He had no way to stop her as she slid the dagger from its hiding place under her shirt. With one enviable, quick-as-lightning motion, she flung her hand backward, and the dagger embedded in the lycan’s chest to the hilt. Silver Hair screamed in fury and punched Rose in the face.

Knox watched in horror as she flew backward and hit the wall hard with a thump before crumpling in a heap on the floor. He jumped on the rogue and broke his neck as he had Red Hair’s, then turned and ran to

Rose. His claws retracted, along with his fangs, as he bent and trailed his hands along her legs and arms, checking for broken bones. He tilted her head back and sucked in an angry breath when he saw the deep purple bruise already marring her cheek.

He’d failed her. He’d let his guard down, allowed her to escape, and had arrived too late to adequately protect her. It was his fault she had gotten hurt.

Rose started to regain consciousness and cringed when the throbbing in her cheek, jaw, and head made her wonder if she’d been hit by a freight train. When she could finally open her eyelids, she thought she might be hallucinating, as Knox was kneeling in front of her.

“Knox?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me.” He stroked his long fingers over her aching face. Somehow, his touch soothed the battered skin instead of bringing her more pain.

She’d never thought she’d see him again, and her heart fluttered with joy. Not only because she’d be dead if he hadn’t come, but because she’d . . . missed him. She flexed her jaw and moved her limbs one by one.

Thankfully, nothing felt broken, but she hurt like hell.

When she’d seen Knox partially changed, he’d been a terrifying but wondrous spectacle to behold. Had his anger been directed at her instead of the other lycans, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to keep her composure about her. She’d been awed that the rogues hadn’t immediately realized the danger they faced.

She’d never seen a lycan partially change, hadn’t known it was possible. Still, instinctively she’d known that the others didn’t stand a chance against him and wondered why they hadn’t figured that out sooner themselves.

His long claws, fangs, and glowing eyes had been both awing and terrifying. She wished that they had been alone so she could have examined him closer, and found it comforting, if not a little unsettling, that she hadn’t felt any fear—not from Knox anyway. The other lycans she’d been terrified of, but she’d been one hundred percent positive that Knox wouldn’t hurt her. The fury she’d seen burning in his eyes had been the result of her being in danger.

He had killed for her without a second thought. He’d put his life in danger for her. Oh my God. It finally dawned on her that she’d fallen in love with him. Somehow, no matter how hard she’d fought the attraction she had for him, no matter how hard she’d resisted seeing him as a man instead of a monster, she’d fallen for him. Deep down she knew she’d probably loved him from the moment he’d tackled her in the woods, but she’d refused to listen to her heart. She hadn’t wanted to like, let alone love, the thing that she’d hated all of her life. But that wasn’t true, was it?

She had never hated Knox, never really hated lycans, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.

She’d hated the destruction and the pain they’d caused just as she hated when her own fellow man caused such chaos in the world, and she’d never hated all humans because some of them were cold and heartless, had she? Knox was the best man she’d ever met, aside from her father. He’d shown compassion where she might have none. He’d shown loyalty to what he believed in, and he’d kept his word to her when he said he’d never hurt her and would protect her.

And now, even though killing the rogues had been necessary, his eyes held a hint of pain for what he’d had no choice but to do. He was a man of great strength both mentally and physically, and she respected and admired him.

Knox held his hand out, but when she went to take it, a flurry of motion stopped her. She saw him tense, and he spun around at the same time another wolf jumped through the window. The giant lycan’s claws caught

Knox across the neck and ripped his flesh. Blood sprayed over her face, and terror and anger tore through her in a maelstrom of waves. Knox’s claws sprang from his fingers, and he swiped at the wolf when it came for him again.

There was so much blood, and she was worried Knox had received a fatal injury. He needed to fully change to heal. He slashed at the side of the wolf and ripped through fur, skin, and muscle. The lycan yelped, fell to the floor, and blood spilled from the gaping wound on the body. The lycan’s sides heaved, and Knox staggered before the wolf leaped again. This time, Knox caught the wolf around the neck and sank his fangs through the top of its skull, crushing it with a loud crunch.

The wolf fell to the floor, dead, and Knox turned back to Rose. He reached up to the wound at his throat and clamped his hand over the injury, but blood leaked through the spaces between his fingers. Rose ran to him.

“No! Change. Change now so you can heal.”

“Can’t. Don’t want you to hate me.” His whispered words slid over her skin like a longing caress.

“I won’t hate you! I swear. Please, Knox!” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Rose.”

He spoke so quietly she could barely hear him, and put her ear close to his mouth.

“It’s iron. Our weakness is iron, not silver. If more come, use the iron. S-Sorry, baby.”

“Pleassse, change!”

“Too weak.”

“No! Do it. I don’t want to lose you.”

But it was too late. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he sank to the floor at her feet.