Semua Bab The Tyrant alpha: Bab 251 - Bab 260

I don’t want to kill him.I sure as hell don’t want his wolf to kill me.Without thinking, I tug at my restraints. The leather has stretched a little. Not nearly enough to slip my wrist free, but it doesn’t bite into my skin anymore. I gaze down at my fist as I rotate it, my brain dull but spinning.Paws are built differently than hands. I can picture the diagram from shifter physiology class at Moon Lake school. Humans have the long metacarpal bone in their thumb. Wolves only have small dewclaws. The actual circumference of the carpals aren’t that much different, but broken—the wolf’s bones would take up less space. Not much less. But maybe enough.“What are you thinking?” Darragh asks from his crouch, his face darkening. Despite the submissive position, his posture crackles with dominance. Something has set him off. Can he read my forming intentions through the bond?Am I really going to do this?I can’t think more than a step ahead or the fear threatens to choke me.But can I reall

“Oh, Mari,” he growls. “I want to do things to you.” His breath is hot on my earlobe. A shiver judders down my spine.“Like what?”“Anything you want. Make you feel good.” His voice grows even more ragged. “Kiss you.”“You are kissing me.”“You know what I mean.”“You mean on the lips?” He rumbles. For some reason, I want to giggle.He’s so male and dominant and grown, but in this moment, he reminds me of Fallon and the other scrappers who come by the cabin on some pretext—to borrow a video game or get a cut fixed up—and try to chat us up, puffed up and bold and transparently scared as shit.I squirm in Darragh’s arms, but I don’t try to escape him. He tightens his grip anyway, but gently. A fizzy warmth tingles between my legs, and it’s not heat—it’s a more subtle sensation. I’m surprised it even registers.“Yes, I want to kiss you, Mari,” he mutters like I’ve tortured it out of him.“How bad?” I whisper.“So fucking bad,” he groans.“Okay,” I say and twist in his arms.“Okay,” he sa

“Run!”Her wolf glances over her shoulder in the direction of the pounding boots, and she huddles lower, whining up at me.“Fuck, Mari, run! Now!”A sharp crack sounds. Dirt explodes a few feet from where she’s cowering. She ducks her head under her paws.A man—Smith—shouts from a distance, “Hold your fire! Tranqs only!”A split second later, there’s another pop and a clipped ping as a bullet hits the side of the container.I fight the chains. The cuffs cut into the gashes I’ve carved in my wrists. The links groan, the walls creak where the plates attach, and given ten, twenty more minutes, I could tear them free, but they need to give now, and I’m not strong enough. I need a burst of power, and will isn’t enough. I’m not enough.“Go!” I scream. She crouches and shakes.In this second or the next one, a shot will ring out, it’ll hit its mark, and maybe it’ll be a dart with red feathers, or maybe it’ll be lead.Time stops.For the first time since he tore himself from my skinny, nine-y

Darragh doesn’t seem to give a shit about what Lenox is saying. Darragh’s sizing up the distance between them. He’s going to strike.“Men with wolves inside them, paying humans for our own territory,” Lenox sneers. “As if we shouldn’t by right rule them.”So he works for them? It makes no sense, but I’ve known mad wolves before. They do what they want and justify it with whatever bullshit they can come up with.Darragh’s not paying attention to what Lenox’s spouting. He’s priming himself.“Where is that weak female you were so keen to mount?” His voice drips with scorn. “The Mercenary. The Haunt of the Hill.” He snorts. “It was too fucking easy. Just dangle some pussy.” He glances into the surrounding trees. It’s his last mistake.Darragh leaps for him, slamming him to the ground, pinning him down with his weight, an arm across Lenox’s chest. And then my mate rips off Lenox’s jaw and tosses it. It hits a tree trunk with a thunk.Wet, choking screams fill the air.“Look away, Mari,” Da

A little past noon, we find a stream with a steep bank about a quarter mile from the road. There’s a rocky outcropping with tall pines growing above, and we rest for a while, away from the sun, and finish a second bag of sausages and a last bottle of water.I drowse afterwards, propped upright, but as my head nods and my arms go slack, Darragh reaches for me, tucking me against his side. I drift off into a dreamless sleep, and when I wake up, I feel clammy and dirty and achy and stiff. I peel myself off Darragh’s chest and stretch my legs. His eyes are closed, but there’s a rumble in his throat. The wolf is awake.I crawl out of the overhang to stand by the stream. I want my own clothes. My bathtub. My bed. I want Una and Kennedy and Annie.I have to pee, and my downtown is raw and ouchy from—I don’t let my mind swerve. I make myself think the thought—from mating with Darragh. Taking his knot. His seed. Cum. Whatever. All the words are embarrassing. Whatever you call it, some of it i