Savage Surrender: A Dire Wolves Mission (The Devil's Dires Book 1) (11 page)

S
ilence reigned
as Sariel stood in the shadows with her hand over her mouth. That man—that man who’d taken her, yanked her away from her pack, and held her against her will—lay dead on the ground down below. She wanted to feel sadness, to feel sickened at such a blatant act of aggression by Bez. She knew she should be disgusted by her mate’s actions, but she wasn’t.

Bez wasn’t the evil one in the situation, her captors were.

That disgusting man had helped to shatter her life, had completely decimated Angelita’s family, and had tormented them both. In the end, his death at the hands of Bez could be seen as justice earned, so that’s how Sariel chose to see it. At least, his death was quick. If the act had been left up to her, she might have made him suffer.

Angelita whined and wiggled in between her legs, forcing Sariel’s thoughts away from the dead man on the grass. She followed as the red wolf crept closer to the window. Angelita hopped up on her rear legs, putting her front paws on the windowsill. The little wolf pressed her black nose to the glass, inspecting the scene below. For long, quiet moments, the wolf just stared at the body in the grass. Her wolf form quiet and still, barely breathing. But then she turned and gave Sariel a wide-eyed look of confusion.

Sariel blew out a breath and quickly got her words in order. Even in wolf form, Angelita looked so innocent, so young standing in the moonlight, staring up at her. But she wouldn’t lie to the girl. Not after all they’d gone through together.

“He’s dead.” Sariel stroked Angelita’s head and rubbed behind her ears. “We don’t have to worry about him anymore. Bez took care of it.”

Angelita huffed and looked back outside, brave in the face of such a horrific scene. Sariel felt so much maternal love for the young Omega, seeing a lot of what she wanted for herself in the girl. Angelita may have been small and young, but deep down, she was a warrior. And Sariel was going to make sure she was going to live to fight for a very, very long time.

Steps quiet but sure, Sariel moved to the window on the opposite side of the room. At first, the grassy lawn appeared quiet and empty, clear of attackers, but then she saw it. A dark lump lying on the lawn, rump brushing the tall grasses along the edge of the driveway. Two men dead, both at the hands of her mate.

Sariel almost felt guilty as a rush of pride washed over her. Bez was proving his strength and skill, even if doing so ended the life of other shifters. Pack justice could be harsh and cruel, but the punishment of death was a rarity, at least where she’d lived. Bez killing those men didn’t thrill her, but she couldn’t fault him for it. He was acting as a strong Alpha would—doing anything necessary to keep his pack safe. And at least on this horrible night, she and Angelita were his pack.

The longer the quiet of the night loomed dark and heavy, the more Sariel’s nerves frayed. She kept waiting for a larger attack, for the sounds of fighting to reach her ears, but she heard nothing. Just the sounds of the night insects and animals going about their lives around them. Where were the other men from the camp? Bez had said there’d been three outside, which meant the fight was now one-on-one, and that was only if they hadn’t brought the werewolf with them. As big and strong as Bez obviously was, she didn’t like the thought of his being attacked by such a beast.

Needing to make sure her mate was okay, Sariel crept along the floor toward the access panel. She knew it was wrong, this decision, but she couldn’t help herself. Like the clueless teenager in a campy horror movie, she moved toward the danger instead of away from it. If she could lift the ladder, she could crack the panel open, maybe look downstairs. The attic didn’t allow a lot of scent input from the house, the ceiling under her feet too insulated or something. She needed a quick look and sniff, and then she’d take Angelita back into the safe room and lock the door.

Sariel had taken two steps when the sound of breaking glass shattered the silence. Soft, almost melodic, it splintered through the air, leaving behind a weighted anxiety in the quiet night. Her heart raced, the beat pounding in her ears as she waited for something more. For another sign of what was happening below their attic hiding spot.

For seconds that lasted far too long, Sariel stood on one foot, the other outstretched and ready to step, her toes pointed as they brushed the floor. Yet she didn’t move, too afraid of setting the night off-balance with a noise. With a single squeak or bump.

Willing herself not to make a noise, Sariel shifted forward, placing her weight on the ball of her foot. Before she could drop her heel, a roar of fury and rage sounded that nearly shook the house to the foundation. Sariel screamed and jumped back, rushing toward Angelita as the crashes and growls of a true battle broke out downstairs. Walls shook, floors vibrated, and the grunts and snarls of shifters fighting to the death made her race across the wood floor. It wasn’t the first time Sariel had heard the noise that came with a shifter fight, but it was the first time she’d had to worry about the safety of her mate while listening.

Eyeing the safe room door, she grabbed Angelita under the ribs and lifted her into her arms. To keep Bez focused, she’d make sure Angelita was in that safe room, no matter what. Bez’s mission was to save the Omega, and damn it if she’d let her mate fail.

As the sounds grew closer, Sariel hoisted a fighting Angelita into the metal box. The little wolf twisted and turned, doing her best to escape. But Sariel wouldn’t be deterred. She wrestled the canine form across the threshold and carefully tossed her toward the back of the room. Hurrying, she reached for the handle and yanked on the door, but before she could close it, the noises stopped. Not petered out, not moved away, just stopped, leaving her standing in a weighted silence once again. Her heavy breathing the only noise in the room.

Sariel’s heart raced as her eyes locked on that attic access panel. As she waited for something from below. Some sign that her mate was still down there, still fighting.

Still alive.

T
he stench
of death and rot increased as Bez turned the corner of the house. Pausing in the shadows of the porch, he pulled his wolf forward to give him a taste of the air. The animal inside shivered and growled, his hackles rising. That scent meant danger to the duo, it meant pain. The last time the two had hunted a werewolf without backup, they’d come out of the fight victorious…but not by much. They couldn’t fail this time. There was something more important—more vital to Bez and his wolf—in that house. Something more important than the need to follow orders.

Bez stalked through the shadows, searching for signs of the werewolf. The beast had to have come in from the lake; it only made sense with the way his scent hid beneath by the smell of water. Creeping down the length of the house, Bez pushed his senses to the max. His head throbbed with the input—every sound of the forest, every lap of the lake—but he didn’t let up. He pushed harder, maxing out his immense capabilities until he finally pinpointed something. A raspy intake of breath. Fifty yards down shore, hidden in the high grasses that surrounded most of the lake.

Bez focused on that spot and brought out more of his wolf. Ears lifting, muzzle extending, he crept around the house to the far side of the garage before dropping to the ground and crawling toward the shelter of the grass. This kill had to come fast and as a surprise. He could
not
let that werewolf anywhere near the girls.

It was time to hunt the hunter.

He slithered through the grass as silent as a snake. This moment, this hunt, was what he’d trained for all those years; this was what he knew. Get in, eliminate the target, get out. Something he’d done a thousand times, if not more. The fact that the target was a werewolf added a bit of risk but not enough to slow him down. He needed to eliminate the threat.

The werewolf crouched on the lakeshore. More humanoid than canine, but not really either in form, the creature stared at the house. His face was drawn and stretched, revealing a canine snout in the center of what should have been a human face. His body covered in a bristly fur, his human skin peeking through in patches and along joints. Legs bent and twisted somewhere between dog and not, hands tipped in dark, thick claws. A true monster.

As Bez slipped closer, keeping one hundred percent of his focus on the creature, the dread making his stomach churn grew. From where he lay and watched, it appeared as if the kidnappers had trained the beast somehow. The werewolf sat still, tense, and ready, every bit of his energy focused on the house. Bez could feel the anticipation pouring off the animal, the excitement. It certainly seemed to be waiting for some kind of order or direction. But werewolves weren’t known for their trainability or intelligence once the animal took over the human. Unlike shifters, who had a constant stream of consciousness with their animal side, werewolves were human for so many days out of the month and beast the rest. There was no crossover, the human side sometimes even going back to work each day not knowing they’d turned into such a creature at night. But whatever this team had done, they’d done it well. The werewolf waited, drooling in what Bez assumed was hunger, twitching with his need for female flesh. Too bad he wouldn’t be getting a taste.

Without a sound, Bez leaped out of the grass and onto the werewolf’s back. The beast gave a surprised growl and jumped to its feet, swinging its arms in an attempt to dislodge the attacker. Bez held tight to his neck, his claw-tipped fingers puncturing the werewolf’s thick flesh. Knees tight on his hips, hands gripping his throat, Bez kept a slow increase on his pressure, digging his claws deeper, forcing more and more blood from the beast’s throat. Werewolves weren’t like shifters, who died when their blood stopped flowing. No, werewolves could only be killed by a beheading. Without another chakram at his disposal, though, Bez had to improvise. So he gripped and squeezed and slowly cut his way through the thick, heavy flesh of the werewolf’s neck. A gruesome way to kill, but effective.

The beast fought hard, dropping and rolling as it grunted, but Bez could not be deterred. If the werewolf lived, his mate could end up as the beast’s target. And Bez wouldn’t allow that. Not for a moment…not a single chance. The werewolf had to die, and Bez would accomplish that task by any means necessary.

The werewolf stumbled up the grass toward the house, obviously attempting to growl or yell, but Bez’s hands constricted his airway too much for him to do much more than grunt. As the beast’s air supply ran out and he weakened from the blood loss, the werewolf fell to his knees, taking Bez with him. Bez should have been ready, should have known the animal would give him one last fight, but he was too focused on increasing his grip and fighting his way through the thick, corded flesh with his claws.

As a last-ditch effort to unseat Bez, the werewolf flipped onto his back. He slammed his head into Bez’s, making the shifter see stars. One second, that’s all it took. The force of the blow caused Bez to release his grip just enough for the beast to let loose a throaty roar that actually shook the ground beneath Bez’s back. There was no way any other shifters who’d come to take Angelita back hadn’t heard the sound. Hell, there was probably no way the humans hadn’t heard it if they were anywhere in the vicinity. Bez’s cover had been blown; no more fighting in silence.

Snarling, refusing to surrender or risk his focus, Bez jumped up and regained his grip on the animal’s throat. The two crashed through the grasses to the lawn, one bucking and swinging, the other clinging to the beast for all he was worth. It took longer than Bez would have liked, but finally, the werewolf fell to his knees once more. This time, Bez kept his hold strong but monitored the werewolf’s actions carefully, watching for any signs of fight left in the beast. Lucky for him, there was none. Bez gripped tighter, sliding to the side as the werewolf fell onto its back, breathless and dazed, too tired to fight much more.

Bez used the position of the beast to his advantage, kneeling on its chest and placing one booted foot under its chin. Claws out and deep in the werewolf’s flesh, Bez curled his fingers, grabbing hold of every bit of flesh in the werewolf’s throat that he could, and yanked while kicking the werewolf’s chin. The beast went still, his head rolling slightly to one side, no longer attached to its body. Bez gave himself a single moment, just long enough to take three greedy, deep pulls of air, before he stumbled toward the house.

His stomach sank and his legs pushed harder as he approached. The back door had been left open, the glass shattered. A sure sign the enemy had gotten inside. And he had no idea if his mate was back in the safe room or not.

Four down, werewolf defeated, one to go. He hoped.

S
econds stretched
into minutes as Sariel stood in the open safe room door, the silence bearing down on her like a weight. Not a sound, not a sense; the entire house sat still and empty. The level of quiet disconcerted her, made her practically taste it. Not a single noise from nature broke the oppressive night, no bug or animal or wind rattling trees. The world had stopped, and with it so had Sariel’s heart. In theory.

Angelita brushed against Sariel’s leg, her fur a familiar touch that still made Sariel shudder. The two inched forward, eyes trained on the access panel to the floor below. A scent crept through the heavy night air, one of rot, of swamp. Putrid and wet, the scent grew stronger, creeping into their silent little world. Angelita growled low and soft, barely above a whisper. Sariel glanced down at the wolf, silencing her with a look before taking another step forward.

Two more steps across the rough wood floor, and Sariel paused. Listening. Opening her senses to what disturbed the still night air. Something scratched at the ceiling below them, a soft, rough sound that kick-started Sariel’s heart and threw it into overdrive.

“Bez?” she whispered, taking one more slow step. A few more inches gained. And she took a breath.

The access panel exploded into the attic, shards of wood and pieces of the drywall flying through the air. Sariel screamed as Angelita barked, both falling backward to the floor. A man from the camp, one of their kidnappers, jumped through the hole in the floor, landing on the balls of his feet only a few yards in front of Sariel.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he growled, his eyes locked on Angelita’s wolf form.

“Go,” Sariel yelled, shoving the animal toward the safe room as she hurried to her feet. She planted herself between Angelita and the angry shifter, feet wide, hands up and ready to fight. “You can keep right on looking because you don’t get to take her again.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, snorting a laugh. “How exactly do you intend to stop me? I’ve taken care of your little guard dog downstairs.”

Sariel’s heart shattered, bursting into flames that sent her reeling, leaving nothing behind but scarred walls and a sooty mess on her soul. Her mate…he had to be talking about her mate. Her Bez.

But as the man took a step in her direction, Sariel pushed aside the fire burning her alive from the inside out. She’d deal with the loss of her mate later. If Bez was dead, he died battling to save Angelita. Those were his orders, and Sariel wouldn’t let him fail. With a power she’d never drawn on before buzzing under her skin, she gave herself over to her wolf, letting the beast within have control even as she stayed in her human form.

“You may have gotten past him, but you won’t get through me. Not tonight.” Sariel snarled and ducked low, ready to battle. But just before she leaped, a muscled arm reached through the hole in the floor and gripped the man’s ankle, yanking him backward and forcing him to fall through the floor to the lower level. Sariel froze, not sure she’d seen what she thought she had. Not knowing if she could believe the sight of that hand she recognized. Big and thick, that hand looked just like one that had grabbed her hip, had slid up her thigh, had made her wet with its blunt fingers and rough skin.

She
knew
that hand.

At the sound of a vicious snarl from below, Sariel rushed to the edge of the hole in the floor, the scene below making her breath catch. Bez, half-naked and bloodied, had the kidnapper in a kind of headlock, one the man was desperately trying to escape. His flailing and jerking were hindered by blood on the wood floor, though. His own, she hoped.

As the kidnapper continued to struggle, Sariel leaned out farther, her hand catching her weight on the opposite side of the hole. The buzz inside grew stronger, more vibrant, becoming a physical link she felt to her mate. She’d heard the stories of the Omega strength, of the power they brought to their packs, but she’d never felt it for herself. That buzz, that power, was undoubtedly coming from her wolf, and she felt the energy flow from her to her mate. Backing up Bez, even though she didn’t know how it was happening.

Bez growled and yanked, eyes meeting hers for a single, tense moment, before finally stabilizing his footing and jerking his arm around the other man’s neck. His clawlike fingers cut through the flesh, tips stained red with blood. A fast death for a bad man, brought about by a skilled warrior. Strong, efficient, and effective.

Bez dropped the man’s body to the floor and looked up, chest heaving as he met Sariel’s gaze. God, he looked so wild, so completely animal even in his human form. A true wolf in a man’s body. The two shared a moment filled with fire and passion, with desire and need. A moment of shared power and relief. Of connection.

“You good?” Bez asked, his voice rough like sandpaper against her ears. Sariel nodded, unable to speak. Too damned relieved to worry about silly things like words.

Bez held out a hand, keeping his eyes on hers. “Get down here, Freckles.”

Sariel shivered at the command in his voice. Without pause, she dropped through the ceiling, landing with a soft thud as Bez guided her. Before he could speak, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. She poured every emotion she felt into that kiss—fear, anxiety, relief, and even lust. As much as Sariel should have been scared by all the death around her, she couldn’t be. Seeing her mate so strong and capable, as a victorious protector, was one of the biggest turn-ons she’d ever experienced. She wanted to make sure he knew that.

Bez returned her kiss with equal fervor, running his hands over her hips to grasp her ass and yanking her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight to her body, rubbing against where he was quickly becoming hard for her. She wished for nothing to be in between them. For flesh on flesh, hard on soft, knowing the slightest shift on either’s part would take them from third base to a home run. Craved it. Needed to know that if she just angled her hips like—

A soft bark from above broke the spell woven between the two. Bez jerked and spun Sariel against the wall, caging her in with his body. Protecting her as always. Sariel growled, her tongue licking her bottom lip to savor her mate’s taste. She stared at Bez’s mouth, desperate for more of his touch, needing him in ways that defied the reality around them. But at least he seemed to feel the same. He growled low, his hands squeezing her ass harder, pulling her closer. Offering her one final tease before he glanced at Angelita overhead.

“Still a wolf, huh?” Bez ran his nose along Sariel’s cheek, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Let’s get you down.”

Bez carefully unwound Sariel’s legs from his hips. As her feet touched the floor, she ran her nose along Bez’s breastbone and clutched at his arms. Trembling. Never wanting to let go.

“You made it safe for her,” Sariel whispered. She pulled back, staring up at him with pride.

Bez’s ice-blue eyes met hers, filled with a thousand untold emotions. “For you. I made it safe for you.”