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Hidden bulkhead doors had been thrown open. Smoke bellowed out from the basement. Chains swaggered out of that decimated clubhouse, hand around the back of Winter’s neck as the building began to buckle and sway.
Fuck. Shit. Damnit, fuck.
I wanted to scream at the Gods and tear out my hair. Instead, I reached silently for Silver as he pressed in close to my back, grabbing my hand in his. My limbs started to shake and a bitter taste flooded my mouth. I was going to vomit.
Winter was covered in bruises.
Every inch of her marbled complexion was visible to the eye, since Chains hadn’t bothered to clothe this favorite toy. And the side of her neck was bitten raw. Blood stained her snow white skin, and ran—unhindered—down the curves of her body. Curves which had all but melted away under the terrible treatment.
I could count her ribs. They were deformed and mottled. Each one a stark reminder of every blow she’d taken in my place.
My eyes swam with useless tears, and my legs gave out as her dead eyes locked onto mine.
Nothing was left of my once vibrant friend in that gaze, just a soulless stare.
Arms wrapped around me. I didn’t even twitch as Silver cocooned me, holding me up when my courage finally gave out.
I looked at the Bone Crushers’ Prez with nothing but hatred. The feeling so pure and vile in my belly, it was a poisonous snake coiled and ready to strike.
“Gotta let me go man,” Chains voice grated like claws on a chalkboard.
He shook Winter by the neck. She didn’t even flinch. I cried out as her head whipped back and forth but her face remained eerily placid, untouched by his cruelty.
I tried to fight Silver’s hold, but this time I sensed nothing on this dusty planet could have made him budge. A terrible rumble came from his chest. I may have been safe in his arms but I suddenly understood that if Chains had been in Silver’s reach, the Prez of the Bone Crushers would’ve been dead before his body hit the floor.
“Relax, kitten. We got this.” He nuzzled the hair at the crown of my head, and inexplicably, I did. I sagged into his arms while my insides and my terror melted into his compassionate touch.
“I mean it, Grimm,” Chains shouted, spittle flying from his foaming mouth.
But the gruesome yet strangely gentle protector who’d carried me from the auction was nowhere to be seen. Grimm was a good name for the dangerous alpha standing at the front and center of his people now. Though he was still in human form, any fool could see the terrifying beast pacing at the surface. Begging to be let off his leash.
Chains’ slick smile was beginning to fade. Perhaps he’d finally seen the Specter of Death in Grimm’s eyes.
“My mate needs me,” he wheedled, inching away from the barely constrained violence.
The roof of the clubhouse collapsed behind him. Chains flinched and scooted forward a few steps before he checked his progress and gulped. Burning embers rained down on us all like a grotesque phoenix. Slowly, but surely, the entire pack pressed closer, surrounding the sorry excuse for a man.
Grimm didn’t move a muscle, though his eyes remained fixed on their prey.
“You don’t deserve a mate. She's better off without your sorry ass,” Mongrel replied as he came to a smooth stop at our side, slinging an arm over Silver’s shoulders. He was so close I could smell the spicy warm scent of him and it made me feel stronger. “You got ‘til the count of three to let the girl go. Or we’re gonna shoot your worthless ass.”
“Mate?!” howled an enraged biker, bursting through the ranks. “The fuck you say. She ain’t your mate, shitstain.”
In one smooth move, he pulled a gun and fired at Chains. No warning. No fanfare. One crack and it was done.
Chains screamed in agony as he dropped like a sack of shit—leaving Winter standing there, swaying slightly like a willow in the breeze—and clutched his blown out knee. She didn’t even blink.
Behind them the last of the building gave itself up to the flames with a groan. From the ground, Chains grabbed for Winter’s ankle but she calmly stepped to the side—just out of reach—without showing any awareness of the world around her. Well, almost no awareness.
For the briefest of moments, I swear I saw her eyes dart to the shaking biker who’d felled our demon. A ghost of a smile twisted her lips, then it was gone. She stared into the blank beyond once more.
“Carbon!” Grimm growled, grabbing the man with the gun and spinning him round. “You could have hit her.”
Carbon’s eyes remained fixated on the pitiful worm who moaned and writhed on the ground.
“She. Is. Not. Your. Mate.” Shaking his alpha off, Carbon took five long strides until he was right in front of Chains, his gun jammed against the side of the man’s head. His voice was dark and full of death as he leaned right up close. “She’s mine.”
He pulled back the gun and pistol whipped Chains across the face. Then he went to town, silent and terrible as he extracted his vengeance and not a single person tried to stop him. I studied the faces of my people as they watched.
