Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2) (21 page)

Chase me. I’ll be your prize,
she thought. She brushed past him, racing from the bedroom and downstairs. Heart pounding in anticipation, she entered the kitchen.

Arms wrapped around her.

Tight. Suffocating.

Not a friend.

She screamed.
They
had found her, would bring her back to her prison. The experiments would begin again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

She’d run from
him.

Damn it, her emotional state was still fragile. Why the fuck did he follow her up here? Furious with himself, he drew in a deep breath and stopped dead. A now familiar scent flooded his senses.

Lust. Sylvia’s lust.

She wasn’t running from him. She wanted him to chase her.

His predatory instinct woke up and howled. A game between lovers, one he longed to play with Sylvia. He stalked to the door, intent on finding his prize.

A scream ripped through his haze.
Sylvia.
His lifemate was terrified. Fury roared through him as he bolted out of the bedroom. He jumped down the stairs three at a time. No sound followed him. Silence shrouded him as he fell deeper into his animal’s thought patterns. The threat to his lifemate would be eliminated.

The kitchen.
He followed her scent, racing down the hallway.

Sylvia struggled with a man, no longer screaming. An arm crushed her waist, locking down her arms, and another arm around her throat cut off her air supply.

Colour leeched from his sight. Partial shifting took over as his wolf pushed for freedom. Sharp claws burst through his fingertips, pointed teeth erupted from his now extended jaw, and his eyes changed to golden amber.

The intruder’s scent assaulted him – Shawn.

Rage and fear ignited inside Derek. The other Alpha had nipped at his pack, tried to undermine Derek’s authority, and now he dared to touch Derek’s lifemate. Fucking coward!

Shawn had signed his own death certificate with this act.

Derek’s furious roar shook the windows. Shawn whipped around with Sylvia motionless in his arms. The terrified look on her face pushed all reason from Derek’s mind. His to protect, and again he’d failed her.

He leaped at the pair. His claws sliced through Shawn’s arm as he took care to avoid harming Sylvia. Drawing strength from the pack, he became stronger and faster. His claws were a blur as he struck again and again until he forced Shawn to release Sylvia.

She stumbled away from the pair with her hand covering her throat. Derek wanted to comfort her and make sure she was alright.

His anger was too great. He refused to let this fucker live.

He punched Shawn in the jaw, and the other man’s head snapped back. Shawn stumbled into the kitchen table. With vicious speed, Derek’s fist landed a hard punch to the Lesser Alpha’s kidneys.

To his credit, Shawn didn’t whimper or beg for mercy. Maybe he knew there was none. Instead, he kicked sideways to take out Derek’s knee. Derek took the hit, scarcely feeling the slight pain as his kneecap shifted out of place. It would heal soon enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zmitro and several Deltas rush into the room. Zmitro went to Sylvia while the others kept an eye on their Alpha and his challenger. Good, the Beta would keep her out of harm’s way.

He turned his focus back to Shawn, just in time to see him palm a knife. Derek snarled, not surprised he’d bring weapons into this fight. Low-life bastard. He wasn’t fit to be an Alpha, and after this, his small pack would need to find a new one.

Isaac stepped towards the two, his laidback demeanor gone and a vicious scowl in its place. Derek shook his head.

The knife – as scary as a spoon. At least with a spoon, Shawn could have dug his own grave with it, making it multipurpose. Instead, he’d broken werewolf law. This infraction meant punishment from the Coterie, if Derek allowed him to live.

Shawn ignored the others and moved toward Derek. He tried to fake a move to the right, but Derek wasn’t falling for it. He’d taken part in more than his fair share of fights, brawls and wars. The fact that he’d been a Top Alpha for nearly fifty years was a testament to his skills.

With a swipe of his claws, Derek sliced open Shawn’s left arm then backhanded him, causing him to stumble. The smell of old pennies permeated the air.

Most of the cuts had healed on Shawn, but blood had splattered on the floor and misted on the walls and kitchen table. Derek inhaled deeply, drawing a lungful of the intoxicating aroma into his lungs. A snarl curled his lips, exposing his deadly canines. He stalked forward and lunged. Enough playtime.

Years of fighting werewolves, ones who obeyed the rules, had made Derek lax. Teeth and claws, the only weapons allowed. He should have expected another dirty trick from this coward. As he closed the gap between his teeth and Shawn’s face, the cheating bastard threw pepper in Derek’s eyes.

“Fuck!” he yelled as his eyes slammed shut against the immediate burning. Defensive tears fused his lashes together. Blind, the fucker had blinded him.

A hard uppercut to his jaw stunned him, and his head snapped backwards. Blood filled his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue. A flick showed he hadn’t severed it. Another punch, this one aimed for his solar plexus, expelled the air from his lungs.

He gasped, a ragged breath he then lost as he howled in pain. The silver knife had sliced across Derek’s stomach. Agony, pure mind-numbing agony, ripped through him. Though a shallow wound, the silver acted like poison on his skin. His regenerative were abilities slowed by the metal.

Through sheer stubbornness, he ignored the pain, pushed it into a tiny corner of his mind and focused with his ears, sight useless until the pepper cleared from his eyes. A faint rustle alerted him to his Deltas’ movements. Did they mean to jump in?

Stand down. He’s mine!
He snapped a message over the pack link.

Help wasn’t wanted or needed. He could’ve used his authority as Alpha to force the other man to submit, but he refused to take the simple way out. He’d show Shawn how a true Alpha remained at the top.

Tilting his head, he listened for Shawn to move. The slight increase in his breath before he attacked telegraphed his intent. Derek shifted to the side, narrowly missing another hit as he felt the push of air against his face.

He grinned savagely. Shawn gasped in horror.

Blood from his now healed tongue ran down Derek face. He licked his snout, the flavour appealing to his primeval side. What would Shawn’s blood taste like? Would his panic add an extra tang to it? Long, wicked teeth snapped together as he waited for Shawn’s next move.

Fear wafted from his opponent, and he laughed. This young pup had waded into unknown depths and forgot he didn’t know how to swim.

“You hurt my woman. My scent is all over her. You knew she was mine,” he snarled at Shawn. “I’ll make you suffer before I kill you.”

“I didn’t know she was yours,” Shawn whimpered. “I swear, I wouldn’t have hurt her. Just wanted to shake you up.”

Derek backhanded him, partly to cause pain and partly to shut up the sniveling bastard.

Blinking rapidly, the pepper clearing from his eyes, Derek could make out blurry shapes. He narrowed in on Shawn, pounced and slammed his opponent into the wall.

He drew back his hand and punched, over and over.

Knuckles broke and skin ripped open. Still he continued the brutal punishment.

His eyesight cleared enough to see Shawn’s head lolling to the side. The exposed neck triggered his animal’s instinct, and he moved in for the kill.

Derek bit down hard, ripping open Shawn’s throat. Blood filled his mouth for the second time today, this time his prey’s, adrenaline-laced and enthralling. Beyond reasoning now, he gripped the other man’s shoulders and gave one final lethal snap of his jaws. His teeth pushed through tissue, muscle and then finally bone.

A dull thump dimly registered in his brain as the head fell to the ground.

He let go of his opponent and stumbled away from him, wiping blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand. Shawn’s headless body slumped to the ground. His werewolf regenerative healing wouldn’t help him recover from that wound.

Beheading, a surefire way to kill a werewolf.

Shawn’s Alpha powers poured into Derek. Damn it, another replacement he now needed to find. Stupid Alphas and their overreaching arrogance.

Isaac, Emma, Heather and Davis rushed over to Shawn’s remains. Not to save him, but to minimize the amount of damage his blood would do to the floor and walls.

Derek staggered towards Sylvia. Her panic and dread beat at him, drowning him. Her emotions overwhelmed him. Was she fine? Had Shawn hurt her?

Another step closer, the weight of his own body dragged him down. Sylvia yelled in revulsion, “Stay away from me. Don’t touch me!”

She ripped away from Zmitro and raced from the room, not sparing a backwards glance. Her feet thudded across the foyer floor, up the stairs and into his bedroom. He winced as the door slammed shut.

Despair settled around him, wrapping him tightly in its unending embrace. He closed his eyes briefly, the single show of weakness he’d allow.

She hated and feared him. All the work he’d done, all the trust he’d gained, shattered. Blind rage swept through his body. Fists clenched, his claws punctured his palms, the pain negligible compared to his broken heart.

Run, get lost in the woods, gain relief in me,
his wolf side whispered. He gathered the energy for a full shift.

Zmitro spoke, stopping him, “Clean up in the bathroom and then go to her. She’s an Enforcer and a Beta. If she wants to stay that way, she needs to remember how brutal our world can be.” A glance at his friend showed understanding and encouragement. “Go, we’ll take care of the garbage. We’ll bring him to the Coterie and tell them what happened.”

Derek channeled the energy into healing his stomach, siphoning from the pack. With the silver poisoning the wound, it would have taken longer to regenerate on its own. He forced away his partial change and shifted back to human. Weariness swept through him as he also relinquished the extra energy from his pack.

He refused to let the fatigue affect him. Check on Sylvia. See if he could fix this.

Swaying slightly, he put one foot in front of the other until he neared the front door. The stairs were daunting and the effort almost too much. The thought of Sylvia kept him going. Up he went, leaning heavily on the rail, smearing gore in his wake. He shuffled to the bathroom, the smooth wooden floor cool against his soles. The hallway had expanded since this morning, a hundred feet of torture between him and his destination.

A swift check of the mirror confirmed his suspicions, and he winced. No wonder she’d run from him.

Gore coated his chin and shirt. Splatters of blood smeared across his cheeks and forehead. When he ran his fingers through his hair, they came back sticky and red. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them into the garbage. No sense in attempting to salvage them. They were too far gone.

Naked, he leaned into the shower stall and turned on the hot water. Steam poured out, filling the air with warmth. He turned his face to the pounding water and let it pour over him for a moment. Grabbing the bar of soap, he lathered it up and set to washing away the blood. Soon the water stopped running red, and he turned off the tap.

Steam filled the room, a haze to hide him from his own guilt and fears.

He stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry off. A glance around showed the distinct lack of clothes or a robe. Damn it. This bathroom was for guests and contained nothing of his. His room contained an ensuite. Slinging the towel around his hips, he opened the door and walked into the hallway. A shiver danced up his spine as the cooler air hit him.

Sylvia wrapped her
arms tight around her knees.

Help me! Please, someone help me!
The cries of fellow prisoners rang in her ears. Sudden shrieks of pain followed by horrifying silence. She slammed her hands onto the sides of her head. Block the sounds. Ignore them. Can’t help them.

Tears dripped down her cheeks. She couldn’t help them. Her entire adult life, she had lived and breathed for her fellow races. Protect the weak, justice for those harmed. But she could only listen to the sounds of their torture.

She scrubbed at her face, sniffing as her heart pounded. Who would they kill today? Whose final breath would worm its way into her nightmares? So many deaths, lives stolen because some thought evolution had screwed them over.

“I’m sorry,” Derek’s voice, the softest she’d ever heard it, slid into the cacophony of screams and cries of terror. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She latched onto his words, the thinnest thread of sanity weaving through the unending agony and helplessness. “You didn’t scare me.”

No, he hadn’t. The smell of blood, the fear of losing Derek had jumbled her mind, throwing her back into the tiny cell. So many days of listening to the other captives. Some spent the time crying, others babbling to themselves about their lives. But in the end, they all screamed, even Sylvia.

She buried her face into her arms, hair falling forward to hide her from Derek. Betas didn’t cry. They endured. She didn’t want him to see her cry.

“What can I do to help you? What can I do to make this better?” He shuffled but didn’t come closer.

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I’m broken. No one can fix me. Please, leave me alone.”

“Sylvia, please, look at me,” he begged.