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“Nooo. I don’ know why,” the man whines, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two of us.
“You should have left town, Heston,” I explain, taking another step forward. “Surely you understood what would happen if you didn’t.”
The moonlight is dim, but it’s bright enough to flash on the blade of my hunting knife as I pull it from my belt. Heston’s eyes drop to the weapon and widen.
“Bu-bu-bu—”
I interrupt his stuttering by lunging forward, catching his jaw with my left hand and lifting his chin. I place the blade to his bared throat, barely touching the skin.
He whimpers and gives me a weak shove.
“Uh-uh-uh,” I tut. “If you try to fight me, my hand might slip and cut your throat. You don’t want that, do you, father-in-law?”
This close, I can see how bloodshot his eyes are, and he reeks of alcohol and sex. How Scarlett’s mother can stand to see him when he comes home like this, I don’t know.
Conall draws nearer, snarling softly. “You should have left. We’ve given you time to get your affairs in order, but you seem to have forgotten how you tried to harm our mate. We’ve run out of patience, Heston. Now, we’re thinking of bleeding you dry.”
Heston moans, shifting slightly against the wall. He’s staring at Conall with terrified eyes. But that won’t do.
The wolf will kill him, sure, but he’s not the true monster here. I am. My need for violence, for this man to feel pain, is on the cusp of driving me mad. I want him to suffer for the way he’s treated Scarlett all these years. And for what he tried to do to her.
Conall wants to hurt him, yes, but our mate asked him not to kill her stepfather. His wolf and the instinct to please his mate mean he won’t want to end the man permanently.
But it’s fine.
I’m bloodthirsty enough for both of us in this moment. Still, I’m also bound by a promise I gave our mate. Biting back a sigh, I decide to stick with the plan. For now.
“Look at me, you mewling, pathetic coward,” I hiss out.
He jerks, and the blade slices a small bit of skin. Another whine escapes him as his eyes come back to me and grow even wider. All I can see is the reddish whites of his eyes and the sheen of tears shimmering in the moonlight. I’m glad he urinated before we jumped him, because if he had a full bladder right now, he’d be pissing on my shoes.
“The Lycan is the least of your worries.” I press my hand harder against his jaw, making sure to cover both his nose and mouth with my palm. “I’m ready to gut you and leave you here to die, surrounded by your entrails. You hurt the woman I love more than anything else in this world. You don’t deserve to live.”
He’s whimpering like a child now, tears rolling down his cheeks. But he remains still because a trickle of blood is running down his neck, which means he understands how sharp my blade is.
“But Scarlett cares about her mother. And Johanna cares about you, though the gods know you don’t deserve it. So, I’m going to make you a deal. Are you listening very, very closely?” I tap the flat of the blade against his throat as I ask, and he moans against my palm.
His face grows darker, turning purple, and Conall taps my shoulder. “I think he needs to breathe.”
Good point.
I lower my hand an inch, letting his nose pop out from behind my palm. When something wet and slimy touches the side of my hand, I scowl. The sniveling bastard is getting snot all over me. That settles my need to torture him. I’m not in the mood to deal with his disgusting bodily fluids. It’s time to finish this little conversation so we can get back to our mate.
“You have until sunrise to pack your shit and get as far away from here as possible. If my Lycan friend even smells a whiff of you or I hear the whisper of your name, we will hunt you down and cut little pieces off of you until you’re nothing but food for the fish swimming in the stream. Do you understand me?”
He responds with a muffled sound.
I sigh and tap his throat with the blade again. “Nod if you understand.”
His head jerks in a quick up-and-down motion.
I’m getting ready to release him when Conall leans forward and murmurs, “Don’t forget about the money.”
“Oh, yes,” I say. “Before you go, you’re going to leave the stockpile of coins you hid under the floorboards in your house for your wife. You’ll take only what you have in your pockets right now.”
His gaze skitters to the side, so I turn the knife, letting the sharp edge kiss his skin again.
“If I hear of Johanna struggling to make ends meet for the next few months, I will track you down. And I won’t give you the same courtesy I’m giving you tonight. You’ll step into an alley to take a piss or hire a whore, and you’ll be bleeding out before you realize your throat’s been cut. Am I clear?”
