His hold loosened just enough to allow her to take a shallow breath.
Keeping her gaze, holding her hostage, he yanked one hand free. Chain links zinged around the helicopter, and she ducked to avoid getting smacked in the head. A quick glance to the left relieved her somewhat in that he’d torn the shackle apart, but not the side of the craft.
Her relief died a quick death.
The other wrist shackle gave way without even a protest.
Man, he was strong.
The anxiety attack hit full bore. Her vision wavered. Pinpricks nailed her from every direction, her skin protesting. She began to pant, unable to breathe. A low moan spilled from her chest.
Her eyes opened wide, but she couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. Her shoulders began to convulse.
“What’s wrong?” Terrent asked.
She shook her head, her mouth opening and closing. Bile rippled up her throat. A soft moan escaped her.
Strong hands manacled around her biceps. Without warning, the world tilted and she found herself facing away from him, sitting between his dangerous thighs, her butt on the floor of the craft. He palmed the back of her head, lowering her face between her knees. She shut her eyes.
“Breathe.” Low, soothing, no hint of anger remained in the wolf’s voice. His scorching hot palm rested against her upper back, her entire upper back. Slowly, he slid down to her tailbone and back up. “Deep breaths.” He growled low. “Keep flying, kid. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He continued the soft caress. “Keep breathing, little wolf. It’ll be okay.”
For several moments she stayed in place, allowing him to comfort her. The pain in her skin receded. Her lungs relaxed. Finally, she could breathe.
Still trembling a little, her shoulders straightened. Her eyes opened to see the bottom of the craft. “I’m sorry.”
His hand stopped the gentle movements. “For what?”
Well, for the panic attack. She always apologized for some crazy reason. “Um, for kidnapping you?” It was the right answer. Probably.
His hands on her hips flipped her around to face him. Still inside his legs, she felt trapped. Well, and kind of safe. Protected in a totally weird way that made no sense, especially since the anger he’d kept from his voice was stamped all over his strong face.
She tried to move back, and his hands clenched.
“No moving.” Turning his head, he focused toward the front. “Turn around and head back to Realm Headquarters. Now.”
Charlie glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide.
Maggie swallowed. Then she gave a quick nod. The flight would take another three hours to get back. The fight would be over ... and either Jordan would be a werewolf, or he wouldn’t.
She focused on the wolf. “You would’ve done the same thing.”
He slowly shook his head. “No. You’re lucky I have to return to headquarters.”
Yeah, so he could maybe kill Jordan. Maggie lifted her chin. “Why is that?”
His eyebrow rose. Anger still swirled in his dark eyes. “Because I’d be taking you to my people, otherwise.”
She forced a smile, not quite brave enough to break his hold. “I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”
His smile almost caused another panic attack. “Oh, this is just a short reprieve, little wolf. We’re nowhere near done.”
Chapter 29
K
atie had made a colossal mistake in foregoing a tranquilizer gun. She eyed the man pacing against the far wall, animals visibly shifting beneath his skin. But she’d had no clue she’d be able to mate him, to force the lion genes back into his blood. With the bite, her plans for the night just reversed completely. She had to keep him
away
from the moon now. Knocking him unconscious right now would be a great idea. They’d both gotten dressed to face the night. “You just need to hang on, Jordan.”
He whirled on her, eyes morphing yellow, canines flashing. “I need to get outside.” Guttural, his voice sounded like cement being crushed.
The moon had been up for about an hour ... not high, not in full power. Yet.
But even Katie felt the pull. The need to head outside into the balming rays caused her neck to itch and her head to pound. Fear for him, fear for her, made her muscles vibrate in place. This was going to be the most difficult night of her life.
When he resumed pacing, she eyed the leg iron attached to the bed. How in the world could she get the restraint around Jordan’s ankle?
He growled, stretching his neck, increasing his pace. “Don’t even think about it.”
She started, sliding her shoulders along the wall. “We can survive anything for one night.”
Pain and a primal rage rode his strong exhale. “Open the door, go out, and shut it behind you.” His gaze stayed on whichever wall he faced while moving. “Now.”
If she opened the door, he’d be too tempted to get out. “I’m staying here. To help.”
He was on her that fast. Hands manacled her biceps, lifting and slamming her against the door. Hard. Leaning down, his face an inch from hers, he snarled.
She snarled right back. Digging her hands into his thick hair, she yanked his head down. Clasping his mouth, she shot her tongue inside, rubbing her core against his. A wildness rode her, deep and strong.
His groan filled her mouth. His hand dropped to her ass and he pivoted, throwing her to the bed. Two strides and he was on top of her.
Biting his shoulder, she pushed up, shoving him over. Jumping on top of his abs, she ran both hands down his amazing chest. Muscles, man and animal, shifted beneath her palms. So much power.
Flashing a saucy smile, she maneuvered down between his legs, unclasping the button on his jeans.
His breath caught, and interest ripped through his now topaz eyes.
She blew heated air through his jeans and he gave a low groan, shutting his eyes.
Leaning to the floor, she made a quick grab for the restraint, snapping it around his ankle. Then she leapt for the door.
His roar filled the small room. Jumping up, he lunged for her, arms outstretched. The chain jerked him back. Raw fury shot across his face. “What the fuck?”
Fear dried the spit in her mouth. Licking her lips, she tried for a shrug. “You placed the restraints there for a reason. Since I bit you, going outside is the most dangerous move you could make.” If she could keep the father of her children from turning into a big hairy monster that wanted to kill them, then she would.
“I would’ve rather had the blowjob you just hinted at.” Deep red covered his high cheekbones. Lust, need, and wildness.
Some of that was for her. “You survive the moon tonight, and I’ll blow you every chance I get.” The breath panted out of her lungs. Some fear, some desire. Mostly fear.
He coughed out a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Buttoning his pants, he dropped to the bed. Sweat soaked through his T-shirt. Ripping off the material, he wiped his chest and brow, throwing the cotton to the ground and revealing a tanned, broad chest. “Of course, we could start now.”
Temptation warred with reality. She settled her stance against the door. “I think I’ll stay right here.”
The lion rippled beneath his skin. “Wise girl.”
An oiliness slid down her spine. The taste of burnt charcoal briquettes coated her throat. Fear and awareness spun inside her brain, as well as caution. She struggled to keep her face mild. Brent was close—and he wasn’t alone.
She exhaled smoothly. Good air in ... bad air out. Electricity spiraled through her chest. Calm. She needed to at least look calm.
Jordan lifted an eyebrow. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” The need to slash through the door elongated her claws.
He closed his eyes, lifting his chin and inhaling. “I feel them coming. Werewolves.” Standing, he focused, the lion’s eyes gone. Yellow eyes tinted bloodred stared back at her. “Get out of my way.”
“Sure,” she breathed out, fighting terror. Sidling along the wall, she kept out of his reach.
Steel rattled when he tried to lunge forward. Confusion lifted his eyebrows. He turned to stare at his captured ankle. Several hard yanks later, and the restraint remained in place. His fangs dropped low. Throwing his head back, he bellowed a howl from hell.
Answering howls echoed in the distance. Muted and low-pitched ... but strong enough to be heard.
Multiple chills vibrated down Katie’s spine.
Fur sprang up along his torso. Black, not lion tan. Katie gulped in air. “Jordan, fight this. Please fight this.” He needed the moon to turn completely, didn’t he?
Grabbing his head with both hands, he yowled in agony. Pounding pain vibrated through the oxygen, suffocating the room. His knuckles turned white as he pressed, his entire body shaking. The fur turned lion color and then disappeared. He dropped to one knee, head down.
Tears pricked her eyes. Swallowing several times, she tried to force down the bile that wanted out. A couple of gags escaped her. Tremors shook her hand as she stepped forward and caressed his bare, heaving shoulder. “It’s all right.” She tried for soothing, but desperate and panting emerged instead.
He grabbed her around the waist, flipping them both onto the bed. The air swooshed from her lungs. All muscle, all male; he landed on her, one hand shoving under her chin, thumb and forefinger digging in.
Her head flew back and she cried out, her muscles tightening in panic. Instinct rose and she thrashed against him.
Strong fingers tightened their hold, cutting off her oxygen.
She froze, eyes widening, body shaking.
The hold lessened. “Unlock me,” he growled.
No recognition existed on his face, in his eyes.
The hold didn’t allow for her to swallow, but she tried anyway. Tears blurred her vision. “I don’t have the key.” Crap. Knowing Jordan, there wasn’t a key. He wouldn’t have left himself an out. “Let me go.”
His eyes narrowed. Inhaling, he levered to the side, one claw ripping her T-shirt down the middle.
Oh God. Panic welled up in her chest and she tried to fight, claws digging into his chest. He tightened his hold so she had to tilt her head even more to breathe. She paused, blackness swirling across her eyes.
His hold lessened a fraction. “Hands down.”
Trembling, mind scrambling, she retracted her claws and lowered her hands to the rough wool blanket. “Please don’t do this.” The monster inside him was winning. Should she let him continue? Would allowing him to do whatever he wanted with her keep him alive? Was it worth it? Could she even stop him if she wanted to?
She shut her eyes, relaxing against the bed. All or nothing. A tear leaked out the corner of her eye.
His claw ripped her bra. Two fingers brushed her skin. Metal scraped along her rib cage.
He rolled off her, sitting up.
Shaking her head, confused, she scrambled away from him. He slid the underwire from her bra into the lock at his ankle, twisting viciously.
Red covered her vision. Rage ripped up her spine. Jumping up, she nailed him right in the temple with a leaping sidekick. His head bounced back, a furious cry spilling forth.
Not caring, no longer feeling fear, Katie punched him in the nose.
Blood sprayed.
She hit again. And again. No way was the moon getting him. She’d knock his ass out first.
He jumped up, mouth open in a snarl, fangs glinting.
Pivoting, she kicked him square in the chest. The impact threw him back to land on the bed, which crashed to the floor in a squeal of abused springs.
The earth rumbled a second before a deafening explosion tore through the night. The walls vibrated, rocks tumbling from the ceiling. Katie ducked her head from the pelting missiles and tried to balance herself against the wall. Oh God. A bomb? The werewolves hadn’t figured out explosives, as far as the Realm knew. That meant one thing. The Kurjans were with the damn werewolves.
Jordan took full advantage of her retreat. Quick reflexes had the underwire twisted. The lock gave with an ominous
pop
.
Katie backed up, her heart beating too hard, blood rushing through her ears.
Jordan stretched to his feet. Fury glittered in his eyes, deep red covered his cheekbones.
Then he smiled.
The vision erupted in Janie’s head like a firecracker. Clear, no static, the image of her father being shoved off a cliff slammed like a rock in her gut. Kalin fought above, his sole goal to kill Talen Kayrs. She had to get to them or her father wouldn’t see another sunrise.
Terror shot through her veins. Her gaze darted around the underground playroom at Garret playing pool with one of Charlie’s buddies. Like typical guys, they seemed to be the best of friends. Of course, Janie knew where Charlie had gone. Hopefully Maggie could handle Terrent Vilks. Something told Janie nobody handled the huge wolf.
She eyed the area. Several other kids played various games or watched movies.
Her mother sat with her aunt and the other women on the other side of the bar, voices low in talk.
Guards lined the hallway outside as well as along every landing.
But Janie Kayrs knew something they didn’t.
Her hand trembled around her soda can, sending fizz flying. Setting the grape drink down, she sidled toward the bathrooms set by the bar against the far wall. Well, the soda bar. A blank rock wall extended from the other end of the bathroom in an odd vestibule, and most people thought the king hadn’t gotten around to throwing a game or table inside it.
Janie stepped inside the small area and out of sight from her brother. Taking a deep breath, she swept her hand over the wall, sliding open a keypad. She punched in a six-digit code. A door slid open to Dage’s emergency elevator. Well, one of the several emergency elevators most people didn’t know about.
The king had always trusted her—she knew all the escape routes.
She hopped inside, pressing a button to shut the door. The rock smoothly slid closed. Man, nobody had even noticed.
Her breath panted out. The image of Talen dying pricked tears behind her eyes. She had to warn him.
He was so going to kill her.
The elevator actually rose to different strategic rooms within the compound. She pressed the button for the main viewing room on the top floor. Nobody would be in there, though guards would be standing at the ready in the hallway, gazes on the locked doors.
The lift jerked to a stop. A dull ache still echoed in her head from the concussion, but her thoughts remained clear. Her heart pounded so fiercely her ribs actually hurt. Sliding out of the elevator, she paused in the empty room.
Set north of the west entry, the room boasted a full communication panel, two chairs, and a one-way window facing the sea. Anybody looking from outside would just see pure rock. The vampires had technology human militaries would probably love.
Dodging for the panel, Janie opened the shades.
Werewolves, shifters, vampires, and Kurjans fought without mercy outside. Blood sprayed, people died.
She stepped back, gasping. Fear fought with nausea in her stomach. A gag escaped her. Quelling the need to vomit, she took several deep breaths. Where was her father?
Movement by the tree line caught her eye. Talen fought hand-to-hand with a Kurjan, knives flashing, a grim frown of concentration on his face. His reflexes were such that his movements became blurry. Man, he was fast. The Kurjan wasn’t one she’d seen before, either in briefings or visions.
An explosion rocked the headquarters. A baseball-sized chunk of rock dropped onto her shoulder. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Blood welled through her shirt. Shouting filled the hallway outside along with rushing boot steps.
Trying to stay calm, her ears ringing, she scanned the buttons on the control panel. One of those had to open the window, right?
No labels. Colorful buttons, dark knobs, even levers made up the panel. But not a one described its function. The men who usually manned the station didn’t need labels. And it was probably better that outsiders couldn’t figure out how to use it. But she really needed to open the window. If she tried to go outside the door, guards would stop her. Nothing else mattered besides getting to her father.