Page 73 of Born Savage

I glanced toward the sky, seeing the first sign of lightning, the bright bolts of purple crisscrossing the sky in mangled patterns. Mother Nature was pissed off tonight.

“Finish this,” Rage demanded, the two words as if he could alter the outcome. He was that confident in his skills.

Intruders popped from every direction, two making the mistake of lunging toward Rage. The crack of gunfire came in a quick burst, silence following until bodies dropped with heavy thuds.

I swung the sword again, the jerk darting to the right. A second popped into view and in those few seconds, I had a difficult choice to make.

Which to kill first.

Horrific grunts blanketed the sky mixing with loud rumbles of thunder. The ground beneath my feet vibrated almost as severely as during an earthquake. With a quick glance toward the sky, I witnessed huge swirling dark clouds swallowing the jagged moon, relentlessly gobbling up the sky.

Movement dragged me back and I yanked my knife into my left hand, swinging my right. This time, the blade of the sword cut clean through, the light of fire highlighting the exact moment when his head became detached from the man’s body.

I almost lost my balance when I lunged to the side, barely nicking the asshole’s cheek. Everything began to happen very quickly, the man kicking the knife from my hand then using his foot to drive me forward. While I didn’t lose my grip on the hilt of my sword, I was at a terrible angle, unable to gut him.

He picked me up by the hair and I kicked him brutally in the shins. His grunt indicated pain, which loosened his hold. I took off running, hoping Rage noticed what was happening.

Several abandoned buildings were just ahead, offering decent places to hide until I could catch my breath.

By the time I turned around to catch a glimpse, the light from the fire was no longer visible.

Neither were any of the Verndari, but I heard them, three shots fired, an eerie howl following although I doubted it was made by one of the Savages. They knew better than to draw any attention to themselves. I’d seen that in action.

I shoved my back against the building, cognizant of the frightening sounds of nature. In the daylight, I could handle the mournful cry of coyotes and wolves; at least that’s what I’d I thought I was hearing.

But the slithering mass of something that outweighed me by fifty pounds was enough goosebumps popped along my arms. I took a scattered breath, the frigid air filling my lungs tasting of soot and something nasty and raw.

Like death.

The moment I licked my lips, I tasted copper. The blood of the man I’d killed covered my face. I moved toward the opposite end of the building to a location where the moonlight was deflected by the way the remaining buildings were positioned.

Rain began to fall, not soft drops dancing across my skin but torrential, rapid pellets of pain pinging against my body. It wouldn’t take long before puddles developed, then the stream only a mile away to become a raging river.

We needed to get back to safety. The fight must be finished. With the wind howling, every other sound was drowned.

As soon as I rounded the corner, a hand reached out and grabbed me, another slapped across my mouth.

But not before I managed a single, muted sharp cry.

That no one would hear. They were too far away, the wind carrying the sound in the wrong direction. I had to fight for my life. My anger was intense and I could feel the burn churning deep within, the same incredible rush that I’d felt only a day before when I’d started a fire.

Something was wrong. I couldn’t gather the momentum.

Tackled to the ground, I struggled, managing to get off a few punches in his face, but he was too strong, too big, his full weight crushing me. Now that he had me in place, he shifted one arm under my chin, putting on enough pressure I couldn’t breathe.

His stench was overpowering, my eyes watering even as tears of frustration formed. My blood was boiling and I did my best to shift my hips like I had with Rage, but he wasn’t playing fair, determined to kill me if I didn’t cooperate.

“You’re going to be fun to fuck, you stupid bitch.”

I wasn’t thrown by his harsh words, merely furious that he dared think he could take advantage of me. He managed to rip at my pants, even unfastening and yanking them down my hips. Oh, hell, no. I struggled with everything I had left in me even as my vision began to fade, the horror of what was happening creating tiny whimpers when no other sound was possible.

With my fists pummeling his face, his neck, his chest, he wasn’t daunted by my actions, even lowering his head and nipping my ear. Why couldn’t I react as before?

Rain slickened everything, the wind ripping trees apart, lashing us with limbs.

Bile formed in my throat, his stench so disgusting I even tried to turn my head. I could feel him on top of me, getting close, using his knee to separate my legs.

No. No.