Mockery filled the hybrid’s expression, but his eyes were cold, hard. Like frozen emeralds.
“I’m busy, Junior,” Rule sneered, almost hoping the bastard would give him the fight he was itching for since he’d stepped from the bathroom and realized Gypsy had run.
Dane leaned against the side of the hotel, holding the thin, aromatic little cigar loosely between his fingers.
“I’m almost tempted to give you what you’re looking for, cub. You’re a dumb little f**ker, aren’t you? I didn’t expect that of you.” His gaze never wavered.
Rule gave a harsh snort of laughter. “Dumb little f**ker, am I?” he asked the other Breed mockingly. “You’re really itching for a fight tonight, aren’t you? Too bad, I’m not in the mood to give you what you’re after.”
“No more than you were able to give your pretty little mate what she was after,” Dane tsked as Rule suddenly froze in disbelief.
“And you called me a dumb little f**ker?” he growled, feeling, feeling, something wild and animalistic rising too close to the surface of his skin as fury began to boil in his blood. “She’s not . . .”
What the f**k?
The words he would have bitten out in fury were locked inside him, a snarl emerging instead as though a part of him refused to allow him to utter the words.
It wasn’t a part of him. Animal instincts—the animal that resided just beneath the skin was suddenly enraged. With him.
Dane laughed.
A low, savagely cruel sound that had the hair at Rule’s nape prickling in warning.
“Do you know, Rule, I’ve sensed your mark on that girl since she was no more than fifteen years old. As I stood at her brother’s casket, mere feet from her, the scent of the animal that paces inside you marked her, even then.”
“What kind of f**king game are you playing, Vanderale?” Rule was in the other Breed’s face before he’d realized he was moving.
Eye to eye, he glared at the man who could easily break the back of the entire Breed community if he had a mind to, and wanted nothing more than to plant his fist in his face.
“Game?” Dane drawled as though the only threat he was in danger of was boredom. “No game, Breaker. Even if you were too stupid to realize the animal that paced inside you was keeping you out of that cave the night Jonas and your brother’s teams rescued her, that didn’t mean others were near so stupid. Even your brother caught your scent that night and turned to find you nowhere near. But that animal inside you was. It was there, watching over its future mate.”
That night.
The night Gypsy’s brother had died and she had nearly been raped. Jonas and Lawe had been in that cavern with her. Each time Rule had attempted to join them, to be certain nothing more was needed, something had stopped him. Held him back.
He’d excused it, telling himself the girl was too traumatized for more males to be crowding around her. Yet he’d paced outside that f**king cavern—
He’d smelled her terror. The horror of what she’d seen, of what had happened or nearly happened to her. He had sensed the agony that had screamed from her, and he’d snarled at the knowledge that nothing could ease it.
“Ahh, you remember now, don’t you, whelp,” Dane sneered.
“I haven’t mated her,” he bit out.
“Because that animal inside you has held back, knowing you’re too buck f**k stupid for such a brave, courageous young woman.” Dane smiled as though finding pleasure in that thought. “Go ahead, cub, run.” He flicked his fingers to the road. “Go play elsewhere. Because I’d almost bet if you leave, then I just might have a chance of completing that bond with her myself. I could use a pretty little mate like her—”
As though suddenly a spectator to his own actions, Rule felt like a man watching in vicarious pleasure as the animal inside him erupted in a fury unlike anything he’d ever known. Before the Breed, one of the strongest Rule knew, could anticipate his action, Dane found himself flat on his ass, the razor-sharp claw-tipped fingers Rule hadn’t known he possessed before tonight pressing into vulnerable flesh, tasting Dane’s blood.
Rule could see the blood staining the claws. He could smell it, though he was reasonably certain the hardened tips pressing into the hybrid Breed’s throat weren’t causing fatal damage.
Not that Vanderale acted as though he gave a damn. He was still smiling in cold, brutal mockery, despite the smell of his blood in the air.
“Rule.” It was the sound of his brother’s voice, once the alpha who ruled the small pack Rule had been born into before the labs were overthrown, penetrating his senses.
They weren’t in those labs anymore.
And Lawe wasn’t his alpha.
In this matter, no f**king man, or Breed, commanded him.