My scream is involuntary and immediate. I struggle violently against my mate’s hold, bucking and trying to throw myself out of his grip. Lyle is forced to band his muscle around me with bruising force, and I scream again. It makes The Collector laugh as she stands by the familiar medical bed. “I believe this is where we left off,” she drawls, eyes bright and greedy.
But then Xander is standing next to me, his fingers lashing around my right wrist.“Get your shit together.”
In my head, glass breaks. Gentle hands cradle me, and draconic power envelops my body. I clench the toes of my right foot and swallow the string of screams that wants to let loose. That wants to scream and not stop for breath like we once did before. The bright gold orbs of Xander’s eyes burn into mine, his tight hold reminding me that we’ve already done this. That I have my leg back. That I am fine. That Flores Drakos is dead by his son’s hand.
I take a shaky breath as Lyle brings me to the mattress that once changed my life. He removes his hands from around my body. I touch that ferocious, angry face, the blonde scruff onhis cheek.“Come out,”I hiss to his animus.“Come out, my big, angry lion.”
Lyle’s pupils grow, and a cavernous rumble grows in his chest like a building storm. My most rabid mate. The mate least likely to fall prey toanytype of captivity—not after what he’d been through, not after it claimed his family. Feline teeth elongate, and he bares them in a snarl. He inhales deeply, those big eyes closing for mere seconds as his lungs fill with the scent of me.
A hairline fracture appears in the spell around his mind, and I lunge for it, hungry.“I did not execute Frederick Ulman only to see you captive by another’s hand.”
In my head, a gravelly, barely human voice replies,“Regina.”
Chapter 29
Lyle
The puzzle pieces that were flashes of clear sight I had gotten over the past few weeks now get put together. Now make sense. My brain emerges from the torturous fog that’s burdened us.
Horror winds its way through my spirit in a way that hasn’t happened since I was a teenager. I scramble to control my animus, and though I don’t let him shift me into animal form in this small space, I feel the raw, terrible need take over.
There is red in my eyes and death in my heart.
And that sweet scent wraps around me, my regina’s unique smell. And it hones my rage like a sharpening knife.
Chapter 30
Aurelia
Achink in the armour.
Lyle’s lion bows his head to me before whirling on Scythe. He slams a hand around my shark’s throat, thudding him back against the wall. The Collector screams at him to stop, but the growls of both males drown her out. Savage, completely ignoring the other two, sniffs at my feet at the edge of the bed. He wrinkles his nose before sniffing my ankles, my shins, and knees.
“Stop!” The Collector screams again, pulling open the cupboards, no doubt looking for her cattle-prod. But Xander is there, wrapping his hands around her arms, digging his fingers into the bandaged wounds. She screams in pain and fury. Meanwhile, Savage has worked his way halfway up my body, the muscles of his arms catching my eye as he supports himself using the edges of the mattress. His nose touches the apex of my thighs, nudging open my labia. He inhales with his eyes closed. I spread my legs with a moan, my hormones surging with need.
“Savage!” The Collector screams. “Get Xander off me!”
My wolf is frowning now, the command now at odds with his nose. He inhales my scent again and growls into my core.His tongue darts out, and he clutches his chest with one hand, moaning at the taste.
“Regina,” he says raggedly. “Where is my regina?”
“Here!” come two voices—one moaned, one shouted in rage.
Savage shakes his head, confused, and I call his name.
Chapter 31
Savage
Fluffy brain full of bunnies.
Fluffy like cotton.
Fluffy like nimpins.
Why can’t I see properly?
Why can’t I remember where I am?
