Page 41 of Come for Me
With his back to me, his shoulders move up and down as he breathes heavily. Standing in the hallway, he towers above me, his massive body competing against the size of the solid doorframe. He’s enormous, and his size presents more danger than in the expanse of the forest. Confined within the castle walls, he’s a caged beast, threatening to destroy the stone imprisoning him.
“You have no right to be angry.”
This only seems to make him angrier.Good.He had no right to act the way he has.
“You’re the one who—”
He snatches me by my shoulder and neck and shoves me against the wall. “You really need to learn when to stop talking.”
My masochist of a wolf rolls over and pants at his dominance.
Me? Not so much. I growl at him. I just chose him over my home and everything and everyone I have ever known. And here he is, proving me wrong with some misogynistic comment.
Moments pass as we stare at each other.
My eyes search for the Dax who’s swayed my decision to stay, but he’s gone. As his eyes flip between gold and caramel, I don’t dare to look away as his muscles quiver beneath his smooth skin.
Dax is fighting two battles for power, one to keep his wolf from taking over, the other in a power struggle with me—but he knows I won’t back down. I need to see Caleb to make sure he’s still alive.
I hold my chin high. “I want to see Caleb. Now.”
His eyes come to rest in his wolf’s and have a steady gold, but it’s faint. His teeth grind behind his pressed lips at his inner turmoil, and feral instincts loom beneath the surface.
As I try to discern his next move, a light flickers within his features.
The terror from earlier is like a cheap thrill compared to the switch from pissed to a deranged psychopath.
“You want to see him?” Dax says with a sinister grin. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Dax walks away, leaving me there in the hallway, shock confusing me with his change in demeanor.
What the fuck just happened?
Chapter Fourteen
Dax
As I lead her down to the cold dungeon, the acrid blend of urine, dried blood, and fear greet my nose.It took years to build a tolerance to the pungent mix, but I’ve become accustomed to the smell and what it stands for: the destruction of my enemies and protection of my kingdom.
This isn’t the case for Alaina, as she gags and shivers.
The dark stone interior contains a stark coolness from the rest of the castle. Instantly, a sinister chill ghosts through the room as I enter. No one who visits would forget the cold filling their veins when I grace their presence. Bloodstains soak the floor in reddish-brown pools, concentrated around silver chains, strategically placed chairs, and tables designed for my truth extractions.
My hand encircles her arm when her steps falter. With a frustrated huff, I pull her farther into the dungeon, her feet stumbling across the bloodstained floor.She’ll need to grow accustomed to this sight as my mate.
My grip tightens around Alaina’s arm as I drag her through the walkway. I can smell her fear.
She’s scared of me.Good.
Her fumbling steps echo through the stone interior, a stark contrast to my thudding boots.
My captives’ terror at my arrival is a sweet addition to my little game. Their combined fear and anticipation creates a sickening taste my feral wolf loves. I’d prolong my approach,building suspense. But the urgency to deal with the mutt once and for all hastens my pace to put her in line.
The pained groans of captives creates sinister music as the silver chains strip their healing abilities from them. Pleas for mercy and release fill the air as I pass men, telling me I haven’t tortured them enough. Others adequately conditioned to not make a peep unless I say remain silent out of trepidation my attention will come their way. Even if my sadistic ways successfully have provoked enough panic to dissuade my captives from their malicious intentions and treacherous plans, death is the only way out after conviction.
I have warned this mutt once to stay away, out of consideration for my mate’s clear concern over him and my history with his father. A chance others haven’t received. He pursued her after seeing her unprotected and unguarded, preyed on this window of opportunity and her vulnerability, just like I knew he would. Finally, I will end that mutt for laying his paws on my mate.
I’ve never given anyone a second chance. When I see an intent of wrongdoing, I eliminate the threat. End of story. He should’ve been grateful the first time I let him live. What a pity he would learn with his life, and I’ll revel in doing so.
