Captive Mate - Eliot Grayson Page 0,63

growled, and then he had me.

A howl rang in the distance — Ian, probably, feeling his mate’s terror and pain.

Claws pierced my sides as Parker heaved me over his shoulder. The clearing spun in a dizzy blur: the guttering candles, trees around us, dirt and pebbles, Nate’s prone body covered in blood. My mouth opened in a silent, breathless scream of rage and guilt. Parker wanted me, and Nate wasn’t anything to Parker except unlucky enough to be near me. Parker couldn’t be allowed to kill anyone else, ruin any more lives, especially not because of me. I hopelessly reached for Nate, projecting as much pure strength as I could at him, praying it’d help keep him alive. I hadn’t seen how deep the wounds were. He could bleed out in minutes.

Parker pinned me over his shoulder, even though I thrashed and kicked and shouted, and then he ran, at full alpha-werewolf speed, the trees flashing by and the branches whipping across my face. I kicked, and he dug his claws in deeper. A scream burst out of my raw throat.

My magic wasn’t affecting him, and he was carrying me away, and it was the end for me. He’d escape with me while all the others were dealing with the Kimballs. Ian might think I’d been the one to attack Nate. But they wouldn’t come after me even if Nate told them the truth.

My whole world narrowed to the smell of Parker’s body and the jouncing of my body over his shoulder, the whiplash as my neck took the brunt of our movement, the agony of five razor-sharp claws embedded in my hip, the wet heat of blood running down my thigh. And this was nothing, nothing compared to what he was going to do to me, how he was going to use and punish me for getting away the first time.

Another howl broke out, raw and deep and roaring, filled with rage. Tears burned my eyes. Nate. Gods, he might be dying, and it was my fault…

One more roar, this time closer — following us. Right on Parker’s heels. I craned my aching neck, struggling to see what the fuck was going on through the wetness in my eyes and the way I was bouncing on Parker’s back.

A big shape, an alpha, with claws flashing in the moonlight and glowing eyes.

Matthew.

It was Matthew, and he was sprinting after us full-out. “Taft!” he shouted. “Put him down and fight!”

Parker laughed, a deep, horrible chuckle that vibrated through me.

And then he dug his claws in again, using them to heave me off his shoulder. I cried out as he flung me aside, and I whirled through the air and struck a redwood, hard. Dazed, I slid to the ground, blood running from the wounds in my side and with all my bones bruised, my legs numb.

Redwood needles under my palms, little stinging pinpricks. My rasping breaths, every one making my ribs ache; clouds of steam rising in front of me in the chill pre-dawn air as I panted. My cheek rested on the forest’s detritus, gritty and poky and cold.

I tried to shove myself up. My arms shook too much. Behind me, claws whistled through the air and Matthew and Parker grunted and cursed.

At last I got my arms under me and rolled to the side.

The moon was starting to set behind the clouds, but my night vision was better than even the average werewolf’s, and the scene was as clear as daylight. Matthew and Parker grappled, claws digging in and legs straining, and then they flew apart. Drops of blood spattered away from them, but I couldn’t tell whose wounds were worse.

“I’m going to rip your guts out like you did to Tyler,” Parker snarled. He was half-crouched, eyes glowing with power and malice, and he started to side-step, looking for an opening. Matthew moved too. He was favoring his right leg. It would be healing by the second, but a second was all it would take. “I’ll drag the little bitch back home and he’ll spend the rest of his life chained up taking my knot. Think about that while you fucking die.”

On the last word, he lunged, his claws aimed straight for Matthew’s chest. Matthew dodged back, stumbled, and nearly went down — and Parker raked him across the lower abdomen.

Matthew let out a grunt of pain and stumbled again, but then faster than I could follow he was on the attack again, scoring a hit across the