Soul Avenged (Sons of Wrath, #1) (29 page)

She intends to
kill me in three days.

Even that
wouldn’t tame his sudden desire.

The lycan
growing inside of him seemed to welcome the challenge of a
fight.

A rush swept
through him. Kane tipped his head back and closed his eyes, a smile
on his face at the thought of facing off with her. A chase. That
tight body, dressed in leather, and her killer instinct staring
back at him.

Yes.

His breath
hastened at the thought of it, muscles tensed.

He imagined
brushing those brown locks aside, gripping the creamy skin of her
shoulders, sinking inside of her tight, warm sheath and biting—

“What the hell
are you doing, lycan?”

Kane’s eyes
flipped open, realizing in a beat the rocking of his hips into his
fist.

Oh, shit.

Letting go, he
snaked his hand out of the boxers. He cleared his throat and kicked
until sitting upright, cupping the tented sheets. “I … uh … must
have been dreaming.”

Her repulsion
stared back at him. “I can’t believe you did that shit right next
to my head.” She shoved at his leg beneath the sheet.
“Disgusting.”

Kane squeezed
his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Ayden rose
from the bed and crossed to the chaise. She didn’t say a word, just
curled up, facing away from him.

As Kane
slipped back under the covers, the wolf inside mocked him, hitting
at him to laugh about it all. Trouble was, Kane didn’t find it so
funny. Not when his groin still throbbed like a paddled heart.
Instead, he closed his eyes and attempted sleep.

***

Kane dropped
the man to the floor. A mass of flesh squished between his jaws,
and the body at his haunches jerked, blood pooled beneath his
paws.

Screams from
the toddler went straight to his spine like a jackhammer, railing
away at him. He lurched toward her, stiffening when noise from
behind drew his attention away.

He craned his
head in the direction of the front door.

Two of his
lycan brothers approached up from behind, and desperation struck
him.

My kill.

The hunger
twisted in his stomach again. His mouth watered as he padded around
the dining room table.

A gasp halted
him in his tracks.

Kane tracked
the woman in the doorway to the kitchen.

Her eyes,
large gray globes of terror, remained fixated on him. She inched
slowly toward him, her focus moving between him and the baby in the
chair. In her left hand, she held a butcher knife, her hands
trembling around the hilt of it. The woman’s face contorted, an
expression of terror, but not once did she take her eyes off the
child.

Those eyes.
Familiar. Gray, like the child’s.

She stepped
closer.

His adrenaline
coursed, mouth watering, a steady growl rumbling in his throat.

Her gaze
trailed toward the living room, the horror of his brothers standing
at the doorway, clear on her face.

Kane
lunged.

***

Ayden stared
into darkness. Angry. One minute she’d been holding his hand,
talking him through the pain, and the next, waking to him
pleasuring
himself beside her. The thought made her shiver.
She should’ve never stayed. An entire evening wasted. More lycans
roaming the streets. Her enemy walking about.
And for what? To
sit and play hand jack with a lycan?

She peered
over her shoulder.

Kane lay on
his back, facing her, his eyes shifting in a dead sleep.

Something
inexplicable kept her gaze locked on him, watching.
Peaceful
. Her brows knitted together. Of course he slept
peacefully. She could smell the sex on him when she woke, his hand
working it like a piston. The expression on his face, lost to
ecstasy. So …
fascinating?

She wanted to
shake her head at herself, but her hand fisted, imagining the
strokes, her lids suddenly heavy, drunken.
Ah, yes.
She’d
torment him with slow, maddening strokes that would leave him
pleading for release, for her to finish him.

It’d been so
long since she’d been with a man.

Earlier, when
she’d seen him in the shower, steam had swirled around him, as if
it longed to touch him, too. She imagined herself in there with
him, Kane’s warm breath down her back as he filled her, her body
helpless, pressed against the cold tile. Her sex ached thinking of
it, their bodies tangled and dripping. In the shower. In the
bed.

Dammit! Stop
Ayden.

She flipped
back around on the chaise and crossed her arms. The muscles in her
forehead had begun to twitch with the effort of frowning.

He’s nothing
but a dirty lycan wolf. The enemy.

A chill crept
over her as she closed her eyes. She couldn’t sleep, though. Not so
close to him.

She sat up to
leave.

A tired groan
rumbled in his throat. “Ayden.”

Her head
snapped back in his direction.

He continued
to sleep.
Dreaming
. Of her.

She lay back
on the chaise, facing Kane. Tucking her arm under her chin, she
focused her eyes on him, watching him sleep, waiting to hear her
name again.

~

Snow covered
the perimeter of the building, the inside, nothing more than a
series of posts and rafters. Debris, demolished bricks and concrete
blocks lay about—but behind those, Draven could keep them out of
view. Plus, the building allowed some shelter from the cold. Piles
of old dried books provided plenty of paper to burn for heat.

Jacob’s sad
brown eyes looked back at him. “Are … are you sure?” His head
rested on folded arms across his knees as he sat atop a mass of
broken concrete, with rebar sticking up from all the corners,
that’d been busted out of the nearby building.

Draven stared
off at the nothing surrounding him, his memories an unrelenting
rerun of the night before. He crossed his arms and balanced on a
rotted plank of wood, bouncing to break it with his boots.
“Positive. I saw them take her. My guess is, they’re holding her
captive.”
If she’s not already dead.
He imagined the demon
pumping away on Calla and his boot centered along the fucker’s
spine until the wood splintered. He kicked it away from him.
Soiled now.

Jacob ran his
hands across his buzzed hair. “I don’t understand how the mission
could have gone so horribly wrong. The parties are always a quick
sweep.”

“They
overwhelmed the lycans with their numbers. It was a bloodbath. The
demons snapped and went after humans and wolves.” Draven kept his
face impassive, knowing for certain it had been the wolves who’d
gotten the upper hand and ambushed the underground party.

“And they took
Calla.” Jacob looked away with tears in his eyes.

Weakness.
The sight was more than Draven could stand.

Coupled to the
guilt that Jacob incited every time he looked at him, it was enough
to send the smoldering fury inside of Draven into a full-blown
wildfire. Draven bit the inside of his cheek until he drew blood.
He rubbed his hand over his face and looked down at Jacob. “I think
you know what we have to do.”

Jacob’s face
hardened. Odd, but in that split second, his eyes turned from a
soft, innocent brown to darkened orbs of hate. The tear that
trailed down his cheek seemed to almost bleed out the last of his
naiveté. “Kill the bastards.”

The words
struck Draven—so strange coming from Jacob, who had the faintest
concentration of the antibody, which made him the most docile and
easy-going of the Alexi.

Draven smiled
and nodded. “All of them. For Calla.”

“For Calla.”
The sweat and grime on Jacob’s face gave him the look of a young
warrior.

For
Calla,
his thoughts echoed.
She’s better off dead. In a
better place.

Draven climbed
onto a mass of debris piled in the middle of the abandoned
building. Nearly two dozen confused and scared faces stared up at
him. Somehow, he’d managed to convince all of them to come with
him.

“We will be
hunted by the Alexi,” he said to them. “We’ll be forced to fight
against the lycans. And we’ll have a new enemy—the demons. I can’t
promise that any of you will be alive a week from now. But you have
free reign to leave. I won’t stop you. If you stay, our numbers
will be stronger. By yourself, you risk your lives. We’ll find more
of our kind.” He scanned the small crowd. “And we’ll kill every one
of the bastards that threaten to destroy us.”

“How?” a voice
called out. “We have no weapons. We’re staying in a shithole
building. They’ll find us, Draven.”

“I have some
connections. We’ll have weapons by the end of the week. We just
need to lay low.”

“We have no
money! How will we eat? Survive?”

Draven
recognized the girl who spoke—a new recruit, who’d obviously not
yet been through her survival training. “What’s your name?”

She cowered
and glanced around at the others. “Andrea.”

“Andrea. Why
did you leave the compound with me?”

“Because … I …
I’ve heard stories.” Her voice became reticent. “Stories that make
me sick to my stomach.”

“You left
because you trusted me more than you trusted him.” Draven pointed
past her. “Even with the odds stacked against us, it was better
than imagining being a part of those sick stories. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut the
hell up and listen to what I tell you.”

Andrea
diverted her attention to the ground and gave a compliant nod.

“I’m sending
out a small group to scout for food.” Draven reached into his
pocket and touched a vial, the Lywa antibody he’d stolen before
leaving the compound.
To pay for the weapons. To buy us a
chance.
“Here, we have shelter and we can stay out of sight.”
Draven’s eyes roamed over cowering heads, looking for any signs of
resistance. “Like I said before. You don’t have to stay. You’re
welcome to leave.”

Silence coated
the air as they looked around at one another.

Will they
stay?
What had he offered that they couldn’t get on their
own?

Jacob threw
his fist in the air. “Victory is golden.”

The same words
Wade had always used in his pep talks. Perhaps it had no place
here, as Draven attempted to build his own following. It worked,
though. Heads perked up with eyes full of unfounded hope. One thing
about Wade—the bastard knew how to rally his troops.

The small
crowd recanted the words with a boom of unison. “Victory is
golden.”

***

Wade sat smug
in his bed, watching Daniel lead Jenna out of his chambers.

The horrific
look on the boy’s face would ensure he’d mind his place—and Jenna
would surely never challenge him with anything after the session of
which she’d been the center. She’d hardly resisted any of their
play, trembling like a frail leaf the entire time.

Should have
been sterner that way with Draven. And Ayden for that matter.

His time as
General to the Alexi had proven a learning curve in controlling
them. Like wild animals. Appealing to their sense of vengeance was
easy, and at times fun, but tamping their anger into tiny boxes to
keep in his pocket could prove tricky.
They need discipline. To
know who’s in charge.
Their strength out-measured the wolves by
two to one. If he didn’t keep them in line, they would come to
challenge him as Draven, it seemed, hoped to do with his
desertion.

Have to find
that boy and make an example out of him.

Alexi were
skilled at survival, though, with the first lessons Wade trained
them:
always be resourceful. Never be at the mercy of your
surroundings.

He cringed at
the words with the latest turn of events. In the thick of the
Mohave Desert those kids could find water, especially with Draven
leading the charge. The only one who could top Draven’s resourceful
nature was Ayden.

Ayden.

The very
thought of her taunted his arousal and his hips rolled beneath the
sheets.

A true
warrior. One of his most prized creations. If he could find a way
to get her back, he’d never destroy her.
No
. Her existence
carried far too much value. He’d have to crack her brain open
again, pull out more of her memory and alter her motivation a
little.

Her instincts
and need for revenge had driven her away from the Alexi. The
perfect machine.

And she
belongs to me.

~

Kane broke from
sleep and bolted upright in bed. “Ayden!”

His pounding
heart instantly calmed at the patter of the shower in the next
room.

I saw her.
Her eyes.
He winced at the memory of his nightmare.
Was it a
nightmare? Did I witness her attack?
She’d said she couldn’t
remember it.
It felt so real.

The scent of
vanilla permeated from the bathroom urged his lids to lower, and he
inhaled deeply until he could practically taste it.

The shower
shut off, and he opened his eyes, slid out of bed. Stretching, he
glanced down at his boxers, and a wave of embarrassment washed
through him again.

What came over
me last night?

The woman
would have a dagger to his throat by week’s end. And yet, the
previous night’s encounter had proven to be a test of her restraint
against carrying it out sooner than later.

Ayden somehow
provoked the beast growing inside of him.

The door to
the landing clicked, swinging inward, and Annabelle appeared, tray
in hand, as usual.

“Shit!” Kane
grabbed his slacks off the floor and held them up to shield his
lower half.