She doesn’t even acknowledge me as her sharp teeth snap at the cowering wolf who stands in the middle of the chaotic mess I’ve made.
If he attacks, if he tries anything stupid—and let’s face it, it’s just a matter of time for this asshole—my wolf will rip his throat out without a second glance.
And I’ll be forever a lone wolf, rejected from her pack.
Or dead.
Kyvain’s head is lowered, but he stalks carefully around me. I sense him, and I sense his curious stupidity too.
Easy,I say once more at the back of our mind.
But she shakes her head slowly with a rising growl that hums across the gray metal lockers.
Kyvain lowers in a pounce that says our time is running out. I lower my own stance as well. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him for every single thing he’s ever done or would have done to Bea and myself.
Time slows as I assess every move he makes.
His body tenses to a crouch, his teeth bared. Then he leaps.
A flash of fire burns through the darkness. It sparks across my fur as strong arms wrap around me from out of nowhere. A new calming scent washes over me, and even the recklessness of my beast relaxes against his chest.
“Let’s get you out of here, Love,” the burning man whispers like a promise.
And in a hot flash of hellacious flames, the world burns away into dust.
Or so it feels.
Chapter Six
A Fairytale
Aric
He cradles her naked body against him as if he actually fucking gives a shit about this one.
I’ve been running realm tasks for Hela for thousands of years. Not once has Latham ever gone out of his way for anyone.
“Why’s she naked?” Torben grunts.
“Because shifters can’t summon a wardrobe with the snap of a finger, dumbass,” Latham answers, but he doesn’t give a fuck enough to glance his way.
Torben thinks he’s the leader every time we step foot out of Hell. It’s the half giant in him. They think everything they stomp on is theirs.
I’ll let him think whatever he wants. No scales off my tail. But Latham, I think he was born to hate the gods.
And Torben, he might live in Hell, but he’s every bit a warrior of the heavens.
“The bigger question is why is she a shifter at all?” I whisper as I look down on the beautiful blonde-haired vixen.
Her lashes never flutter, but something feels off…
“Who are you guys?” she asks as she casually opens her eyes to the three men staring down on her.
She looks to each of us without an ounce of terror or fear brightening her gaze.
She’s either fearless or has known fear too often within her life.
“We’re hell sent,” Latham answers freely.
