Marcus’s snarl was a chilling sound that echoed through the room. “She’s mine.” His voice resonated with a possessiveness that made my heart race.
He turned away, leaving the werewolf crumpled on the floor.
The room was silent, save for the EDM still thumping through the speakers. Marcus made his way back to me, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Are you alright?”
I nodded, my heart still racing. “I’m fine,” I answered truthfully. “But you’re injured.”
He glanced down at his chest with a dismissive look in his eyes. “They’ll heal,” he said gruffly. “We’re leaving. Now.”
I knew better than to argue.
We didn’t speak to anyone as we made our way to the exit. The atmosphere in the club had shifted, the tension hanging thick in the air as patrons watched us. And yet, as we left, all I could focus on was Marcus’s warm hand resting on the small of my back.
Chapter Seven
Marcus
The crisp night air hit me like a slap to the face as we stepped out of Club Luna. The adrenaline still coursed through my veins, my wolf pacing just beneath the surface, eager for more blood. I had to rein it in, focusing on the woman beside me.
Joanna was silent, her arms wrapped around herself, a shiver running through her despite the warmth of my jacket draped over her shoulders.
I led her to my car, the sleek black SUV parked in the shadows at the edge of the lot. I opened the passenger door for her, the interior light illuminating her face. She looked ashen, her eyes wide with theremnants of shock. She slid into the seat without a word.
The tires crunched on the gravel as we left the neon lights of the club behind. The roads were quiet at this time of night. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the distant howl of the wind through the trees.
My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, trying to control the emotions raging inside me. The sight of another alpha putting his hands on Joanna, the smell of his lust… it had pushed me to the edge. I wanted to tear him apart, to leave him a bloody mess on the floor. And I would have, if not for the pressing need to get Joanna out of there…Before she tore off the necklace. I now sensed it was the only thing holding her power back, and without it, every werewolf in that club would’ve wanted her dead.
The dim glow of the dashboard lit her profile. She was chewing on her lower lip—a nervous habit I hadn’t seen her do before—while her hands picked at the hem of her dress. The rapid rise and fall of her chest was visible as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
She turned to me with a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”
I growled, my hands tightening on the wheel. “What did I tell you, Joanna? Going there alone? Dressed like that?”
She sat up straight. “I can handle myself, Blackwood. I’ve been doing this a long time.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You think you can handle yourself?”
She glared at me. “I had it under control.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “You were two seconds away from…” I trailed off, the thought too terrible to finish.
Joanna was silent for a moment. “I’m shaken up because you nearly revealed yourself to a building full of humans. The very thing you’re trying to prevent.” She crossed her arms. “Did you know the entry stamps had magic?”
I grunted, rolling my eyes. “Of course I did, Joanna. Do you think that was my first time at that club?” I winced, sucking air through my teeth.
Joanna glanced at me, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the blood seeping through the remnants ofmy shirt. “Turn right at the next intersection,” she instructed. “I have a safe house nearby. We need to clean those wounds.”
I followed her directions until we turned onto a quiet street. She pointed to a small, single-story home. Nestled between two larger houses, its unassuming exterior was forgettable.
I pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine.
With the input of a code on the keypad, the heavy front door swung open. Joanna led me inside, flicking on the lights to reveal the living room. It held one couch, one rocking chair, and a small coffee table. There were no framed photographs or a television in sight.
Joanna tossed her purse onto the couch. “Bathroom’s through here,” she said, gesturing toward a narrow hallway.
