Cassie tensed when the door
opened. The good-looking guy—make that werewolf—she’d spotted earlier charged
into her cell. Smiling, he made a beeline for her. Another man followed on his
heels, all stern lips, stiff spine, and pitted cheek. The way he stood—fingers
spread over his scars as he watched her—meant the scars bothered him.
Considering his Lycan origins, his disfigured cheek was the least of her
worries.
Both men shared the same
athletic build and piercing amber eyes. The one with scars sported a military
buzz cut; otherwise, they could have been identical twins. Make that identical
Lycan twins.
When the swaggering, sexy one
moved toward her, the other nodded and stood back. The pair of them exuded
power and confidence.
She’d never seen such stunning
males, but she’d heard stories about werewolves—none of them good. Now she was
bound and helpless, locked in a room with them. Thanks to the gag, she couldn’t
scream for help.
The long-haired one with the hot
smile reached out to her. “I’m Eli, princess, and that’s my brother Dane. We’re
here to rescue you.”
She shuffled up the bed and
curled her legs beneath her. As much as she hated vampires, werewolves made her
innards quake.
The short-haired one, Dane,
pulled his brother back. “She’s terrified, you fool.”
Eli brushed Dane’s hand from his
arm and slowed his movements. “Don’t worry, princess, we’ll get you out of
here. Come here and let me unbuckle that gag.”
He took a step toward her, but
she cowered away. Puzzled, he glanced across at his brother. Dane gave the
breeder a stare designed to cow her into obedience. “Something tells me she
doesn’t want rescuing. Is that right, little human?”
Cassie flattened her spine
against the bedhead. Even if she could explain, they wouldn’t understand.
Worse, they might hunt down her sisters. Not knowing what to do, she whimpered
and dropped her gaze.
Werewolves were all fangs and
claws—natural born killers—and this pair homed in on her. Any moment now, they’d
shift into crazed monsters that lived to hurt and maim. Heart beating overtime,
she closed her eyes and waited for them to strike.
The men exchanged puzzled
glances, then Eli shrugged. “We came to collect the breeder and that’s what we’ll
do. Sorry, princess, but you’ll have to keep the gag a while longer.”
As he uncoiled the rope he’d
hung over his shoulder, Dane tied a slipknot at one end, making a noose. Eyes
hard, face set in determined lines, he stalked toward her. “We won’t hurt you,
but don’t fight us. I’d hate for my knots to give way when we lower you down
the castle’s curtain wall.”
Stomach churning, Cassie
whimpered again, but she let Eli help her to feet. He held her for a second too
long and breathed deeply. “It’s your perfume. It’s driving me crazy.”
She kicked his shins and ran
across the room. Dane blocked her way, tossed the loop of rope over her head
then pulled it beneath her bound arms. When he tightened the loop around her
chest, she felt like an animal selected for slaughter.
Cassie was sick of crying, sick
of the terror eating at her soul. Determined to stay strong, she tried to
wriggle free. Her efforts only tightened the noose beneath her armpits. She
wanted out of this rebuilt castle so badly she could taste it, but not with
werewolves. Never with creatures like them.
Arms bound, gagged and helpless,
she couldn’t shout, slap, or punch. Even if she evaded these two Lycans, the
scarred one—Dane—had locked the door behind them. All she could do was submit.
She hated that the vampires had
left her so vulnerable. Hell, she hated everything about the sadistic
bloodsuckers who’d brought her here. They belonged in films or books but after
the plagues, they’d emerged from the shadows, cruel overlords who farmed humans
for blood.
The first chance Cassie got, she’d
be out of here so fast her feet left scorch marks on the flagstones. She’d had
a gut feeling that she’d escape the vampires. The werewolves though… Their
possessive gaze sent shockwaves of desire shooting through her. Escaping them
would be impossible.
Her eyes widened as the
werewolves shed their clothes. She should look away, but their movements—and
their bare chests—fascinated her the way a snake does a rabbit. Their bodies
rippled with golden muscle as if they walked around naked all summer. They were
beautiful and deadly, werewolf warriors who feared nothing. By comparison, she
was a scaredy-cat mess.
The last few days had seemed
like a nightmare. Now, on top of everything, werewolves invaded her cell. Naked
ones with twin erections that waved at her. Whatever this pair planned, she
didn’t think those twin cocks would fit inside her. Even the brutish vampire
who’d won the auction would be better than them.
Eli—the one with the killer
smile—shoved their clothes into his rucksack. When she heard their bones pop,
Cassie curled in the corner, trying to make herself less of a target. Their
limbs thickened and lengthened. Their teeth elongated into fangs and their fingernails
grew into six-inch claws. Their faces grew longer, like killer Alsatian dogs on
steroids.
They towered over her, standing
well over eight feet tall. Like Popeye after he downed a tin of spinach, their
muscles rippled and grew. The few travelers she’d met had called werewolves
vicious and savage. And this pair fixated on her.
Eli tossed the rucksack from the
window, then tilted his head as if considering the frame. He snapped the bars
the way he would pencils then yanked the ends out of the wall. Putting two
giant hands—or were they paws—on the wood, he pushed hard. The frame crashed
onto the cliff below. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoed
toward them.
Nodding in satisfaction, he
squeezed his bulk through the hole in the wall and jumped. No one could survive
a one-hundred-foot drop. Unable to believe what he’d done, Cassie ran to the
window and stared after him. He landed with catlike grace, thrust his arms in
the air, and gave Dane a clawed thumbs up.
Dane growled and wrapped the free
end of the rope around his waist. Before she could protest, he lifted her onto
the window sill. She bucked and fought, terrified of the drop, but bound and
gagged, her protests were useless.
Spine stiff and unyielding, Dane
cupped her cheek in his hand. His voice came out deeper, more animalistic.
Ridiculously masculine, it rumbled around his chest. “You’ve made this hard for
yourself, but we won’t hurt you.”
She whimpered again, barely able
to think for the terror fogging her thoughts. Ignoring her muffled protests, he
pushed her feet over the edge. Sat on the edge of a one-hundred-foot drop, legs
dangling, she stiffened and shook her head. Her heart raced so fast she thought
it would burst from her chest. His stern body language called her a fool for resisting
her rescue, but it felt more like a kidnapping.
The intensity in his gaze told
her she was going over the edge come what may. She widened her eyes, silently
pleading for him not to do this. He reached out, gave her shoulder a squeeze,
and pushed her bottom off the sill.
