Considering his current plan was to become the Alpha of the pack one day, he didn’t want to kill anybody. But if it became necessary, he’d make the statement fast and brutally. It was the only way.
The door opened, and the current Alpha, Philip Nightsom, stood there, his brows drawn, and anger crackling from him. “What in the world are you doing?”
“I’m here to see my fiancée. Either let me in, or I’ll go through you.” He met the older man’s gaze evenly. Oh, Nightsom was no soft puppy. He was around three hundred years old and could probably take out several shifters, but Erik was pissed at the moment, and he had Alpha blood in his veins, as well. Plus, he was younger and faster. “Where is she?”
Nightsom, dressed in a suit even on his day off, sighed, shook his head, and moved out of the way. “Come on in, Volk.”
“How gracious.” Erik wiped the blood from his knuckles off on his jeans. They were dark, so the blood didn’t make much of an impression.
He strode inside the opulent mansion and noted the stunning six-foot-wide chandelier hanging from high above. Was this what Emily liked? He didn’t really want to live in a place like this, but if she wanted this kind of home, he’d build her one. As her mate and the Alpha of her pack, it would be his job to make her happy. He had no cluehowto make a female happy.
His boots left a muddy trail on the polished white marble as Philip led him through the foyer to what looked like a feminine sitting room. There were even doilies on the tables.
Emily sat on a sofa and looked up, her brows raising. “Erik.” She stood and wobbled slightly.
He didn’t like that. “You have doilies in here,” he said unexpectedly.
She looked around and then laughed. “Yeah, my mom liked them. It was her thing, not mine. We left it that way after she passed.”
Oh, okay. He should be at least a little embarrassed by the relief that swept through him at the thought that he wouldn’t have to live with doilies. He looked at her. Even battered and bruised, Emily Nightsom was a stunningly gorgeous woman. She stood over six feet tall, had long, platinum-blond hair, natural, light blue eyes, and exquisite bone structure. She looked like an avenging angel with vulnerable eyes.
He walked in and studied her. There were bruises around her neck, a cut above her eye, and she held her left arm against her body as if it were still broken.
“Can you heal that?” he asked.
“I’m working on it,” she insisted. “It was a compound. It’s taking more time than usual.” She was dressed in casual jeans and a black sweater. A sense of calm came from her, but the air of fragility was new.
His shoulders relaxed. “I was worried about you, Em.”
Her smile made her even more beautiful. “Thanks. I’m fine. I can take care of myself, Erik.”
Yet, she couldn’t. Obviously. She’d been battered and hurt.
“Who was it?”
“If I knew, I’d be after them right now,” she admitted.
His smile was slow, but he let it come. “Honey, that’s not how this works anymore. You know that, right?” They might be just friends, but they were engaged, and that made her his responsibility. Hell. He’d go after anybody who hurt her even if they weren’t engaged.
She looked toward the doorway. “Dad, can we have a few minutes?”
“Whatever.” Philip Nightsom stormed away.
“I think he really loves me,” Erik said.
Emily chuckled. “Yeah, he adores you. He doesn’t like anybody, so don’t feel bad. Have a seat.” She sat back down as if her legs were bothering her, and she was trying to hide that fact.
He didn’t miss anything, but he kept his expression calm and his voice quiet. It was a trick he’d learned from his brother. People who yelled never made an impact. Quiet and serious, even soft, was more threatening than any scream. Right now, he just wanted to reassure her that he was in control. “What happened to your legs?”
“They got kicked a few times. I’m fine, or I will be. The bruises are already fading.” She huddled into herself for a moment, once again looking breakable in a way she never had before.
He sat on the sofa next to her and reached for her hand. They’d been friends for a long time, and the idea that somebody had hurt her enraged him to a shocking degree. “I want everything you have on them. You can start talking anytime.”
She rolled her eyes. “Erik, you don’t need to worry about me.”
“Yes, I do. You’re my fiancée. Even if you weren’t, you’re my friend. I’m not going to let this stand.” The woman had to know that much about him.
She rolled her neck and winced. “Neither is my father, nor our entire pack.”
