The pack has ruled over its territory, the wilds of Washington, for a generation, but that has all crumbled with the murder of the Alpha. William Reese is determined he will heal the pack by taking leadership, but in doing so he pits himself against enemies he may not be able to beat.
Chloe has been pulled from her home and thrust into a world she never knew existed, a world her father was careful to keep hidden from her. She is now threatened with a gruesome death by terrifying creatures from legend.
Somehow William and Chloe must find a way to work together to stay alive against the forces determined to see them dead.
“I wouldn’t,” he drawled from the front seat in a threatening tone. I looked up into the rearview mirror. Deep brown eyes, intense, brooding, and very unfriendly were illuminated by the headlights from the oncoming traffic. I met their reflection with a grim resignation. I had nothing on him size wise. Nothing at all. I was stuck.
My breathing was returning but it hurt, I knew I would be bruised, but I could live with that. I could probably live if he raped me, even if the thought did make me ill… but if he actually physically took me away? Out of the city? No. If he took me away, I knew the odds. I knew the likelihood of what happened next. If he took me away I couldn’t live with that, I wouldn’t live, statistically speaking. If he took me, rape would be the least of my worries. If he took me away he was going to kill me and I wouldn’t, couldn’t go down without a fight.
As soon as I could draw full breath I struggled into a sitting position. I was about to let loose and start screaming when he growled at me. It was unlike anything I had ever heard before, an animal sound emanating from his very human throat. It caught me so off guard I forgot about the whole screaming and making a fuss that I was supposed to be doing. He knew it too! The bastard jerked the wheel and slammed on the brakes and I was thrown back down below the level of the windows. My head connected sharply with the tempered glass on my way down and I cried out, my hands tied and useless in front of me, though I desperately tried to stop myself from colliding with anything else.
He jerked the car’s shifter into park and got out, the crisp fall air swirling into the car’s warm interior in his wake. The back door opened and I kicked out. He cursed and grabbed my ankle and I screamed. I screamed and howled and I kicked out with my other foot and connected solidly with his chest. Predictably, it didn’t do a damned thing for me, except piss him off.
He grunted and dove into the back seat, over the top of me, his large hands curving around my tied wrists. He was between my thighs and I gasped which I choked off into a whimper. His black jeans may have been two sizes too big, his belt working overtime to keep them up, but there was no amount of fabric in the world that would disguise the hot, solid length of his erection which pressed solidly at the apex of my thighs.
“You keep struggling, I will rape you, just to make a point,” he threatened. I blinked and he grinned savagely, his teeth very white and almost sharp looking, nestled in his dark blonde goatee.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked and hated how breathy it was.
“None of your business, either behave, or I’ll put you in the trunk.”
I turned it over in my mind. That had possibilities, I could break out a tail light or pull the emergency… I gasped and suppressed a moan as he squeezed my wrists so hard, I swore the bones in them ground together.
“You’re hurting me!” I cried.
“That’s the idea, Little Huntress, you going to calm your shit?”
“Oh my god, fuck you!” I spat, “Why should I cooperate with you? Why should I help you kidnap me?”
He leaned back a bit, actually considering the question before meeting my eyes again. “Because I’m not the only one interested in finding you, and they aren’t nearly as nice as I am.”
Text Copyright © 2015 A.J. Downey & Ryan Kells
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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