Dark Wolf Running. Rhyannon Byrd
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noticing that the latch on the door was flicked to the unlocked position. Elise was positive that she hadn’t left it that way when she’d locked up before leaving for the wedding, and she’d come in through the front door when she’d gotten home. There was no way she’d missed checking the door, and familiar feelings of terror and anxiety began to work their way through her system, settling like a toxin in her muscles, making her head feel light, her stomach pitchy. Turning around, Eddie’s low, fervent words faded to a buzzing whir in her head as she stepped away from the door and took a deep breath, searching for a scent, but as far as she could tell, there was nothing to cause alarm. Still, she walked across the kitchen, took one of the knives from her butcher’s block and headed down the hall, flicking on every light along the way, until she reached her bedroom.
With her pulse roaring in her ears, she peered into the room, but nothing looked out of place. Then she heard the floorboards softly creak behind her, and before she could scream, a meaty palm clamped around her throat, choking off her air, while a thick, muscled arm banded her middle, pinning her arms at her sides. To her horror, she felt the knife slip from her damp fingers, clattering when it landed at her feet.
No, she thought, as tears flooded her eyes, trailing over her face. This can’t be happening!
“Hello, cherry girl,” a deep, scratchy voice whispered in her ear. “Did you miss me?”
“Who the hell are you?” she wheezed, barely able to get the strangled words out, even though he’d loosened his hold on her throat.
“Don’t you remember me?” the man rasped, the crooning tone of his voice sickening her as much as it terrified.
“No,” she choked out, but Elise knew it was a lie. She may not have a conscious memory of his voice, but something inside her screamed in fear at its familiarity. “What do you want from me?” she cried, while dread twisted through every cell of her body, holding her in an agonizing clutch of pain.
He pressed his cold, slick lips to the side of her throat, nuzzling the vulnerable stretch of skin. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll refresh your memory. We all will.” A low, husky chuckle filled her ear, making her skin crawl. “But I might have to take a quick taste before I sneak you out of here. Just for old times’ sake.”
Oh, God. God, no. She’d rather die!
Air finally rushed its way into her lungs as she yanked her head to the side, her fear releasing in an ear-piercing scream. Elise twisted and fought like a madwoman to break free, but it didn’t matter. He was too strong, holding her tight against the front of his disgustingly aroused body as he began pulling her across the room. With sickening horror, she realized he was dragging her toward the bed. She drew in as much air as she could, screaming louder than she could ever remember doing. Screaming so hard that it hurt. Eyes watering and nose running, her throat ached as she sobbed and shouted. Then her attacker wrapped his thick arm around her throat, cutting off her air again, and her screams died to a pitiful, breathless gasp. Her vision blurred, tiny pinpricks of cold burning beneath her skin, his guttural voice feeding words she could no longer make sense of into her ear. But she knew what was coming. She was going to die. Slowly. Painfully. Cruelly.
Fight, damn it. Change!
She wished she could act on the survival instinct, but as her consciousness flickered, she knew it was too late. They’d broken her three years ago, leaving her on the verge of death in a pool of her own blood, barely breathing.
And now one of them had come back to finish the job.
Chapter 3
If the sound of those piercing screams had chilled his blood and fueled his rage, the silence that followed nearly stopped Wyatt’s heart. He’d been passing along the far back corner of her property when he’d caught the faint notes of that first terrified cry, and set off running as fast as he could. Within seconds, he’d crossed her backyard, shoving past her neighbor and ordering the guy to call the Runners’ security hotline, before tearing into the house through the kitchen door. He was hurrying toward Elise’s scent when he plowed straight into the bastard. Snarling, they crashed to the living-room floor as they each fought for the upper hand, landing crushing blows that would have killed a human.
“You like preying on women, you sadistic piece of shit?” Wyatt roared, releasing his claws and fangs as he gripped the male’s balaclava-covered head and slammed his skull against the hardwood floor. “Why don’t you try taking on someone your own size?”
“You don’t scare me, pretty boy,” the Lycan growled, his own deadly claws extending from the tips of his fingers. “I eat half-breed assholes like you for breakfast.”
They rolled across the floor, smashing into the coffee table, their booted feet knocking over furniture as they grappled, blocked and struck blows with animalistic savagery. His opponent was unnaturally strong, even for a Lycan, but Wyatt was fueled with the driving need to reach Elise and make sure she hadn’t been harmed. Blocking a blow to his neck, he used his feet to toss the asshole over his head and into one of the side tables, the delicate piece of furniture splintering under the male’s weight. They both twisted and lurched onto their feet, claws extended at their sides, facing off across what was left of a ruined sofa. Coarse, guttural chuffs of aggression rumbled deep in their chests, and then they exploded into action, shifting the upper halves of their bodies into the powerful shape of their beasts. With his head changed into the wolf’s larger form, the Lycan’s mask had dropped in pieces to the floor...but Wyatt didn’t recognize the beast staring back at him. Without being able to see the male’s human face, he couldn’t be sure if this were someone he’d met before or not. Dodging to evade a kick to his groin, Wyatt spun with a side kick aimed at the guy’s chest, slamming the bastard into one of the walls so hard he nearly went through it. Shaking his head to clear it, the Lycan lurched to his feet and maneuvered to the left, putting the broken table between them.
“Come on, asshole,” Wyatt growled through his muzzled snout, his graveled tone a perfect match for his feral expression of fury. “Either fight me or admit defeat. Stop wasting my time.”
“Yeah? You really think you’re so smart, don’t you?” the male sneered, his golden gaze glittering with something that looked strangely like humor.
What the hell did this jackass think was so funny? Wanting to finish this now, Wyatt’s top lip curled back over his deadly fangs. “I’m smart enough to take your ass to the ground.”
Snickering, the Lycan said, “And while you’re wasting your precious time in here with me, your little piece of ass is getting what she deserves.”
He froze, dread slithering through his system like a cold blade. Fuck, no. Had he actually made such a horrific mistake?
“What?” the Lycan taunted. “You didn’t really think one of us would come alone, did you?”
“You son of a bitch!” Wyatt snarled, torn between the choice of reaching Elise or staying to fight this jerk-off to the death. But there really wasn’t any choice at all. With a guttural roar, he grabbed the edges of a massive wooden bookshelf that lined an entire wall of the room and wrenched it forward, trapping the Lycan beneath the toppling case. Then he turned and raced toward the back of the house, where he knew Elise’s bedroom was located. In his panic, it felt as if he’d been fighting the Lycan for hours, though he knew in reality it’d only been a matter of seconds. But they were seconds that she’d been in danger. He’d mistakenly assumed she was in her room, trying to collect herself, safe now that he’d come to her rescue. But he couldn’t have gotten it more wrong. He should have known, damn it, instead of letting his bloodlust get the better of him.
Wyatt could hear the Lycan shouting from the living room, but he tuned out the words, his attention riveted on the macabre scene he found as he burst into her room. Elise was trapped beneath a second assailant on her bed, struggling to get free, while the sadistic bastard pressed his forearm across her throat, cutting off her air. The male also wore a black balaclava over his head, concealing his features. As Wyatt threw himself at her attacker, he sucked in a sharp breath, searching