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“Good luck,” I said low but loud enough that he heard.
He nodded once and then was gone.
Going after Salvatore and finishing this rode me hard. Making sure Odhran was okay despite him telling us to leave was paramount in me. But getting Kayla out of there and to safety was even more important, and that’s what I was going to do.
So I took my mate out of that godforsaken underground torture chamber. My soldiers were smart, powerful, and resilient, as were the Lycans. They’d get out of there. But if anyone tried to stop me, human or Otherworlder, they’d feel my wrath for getting in my way when I needed to get my female to safety.
I needed to mark her, to make her see and know and fucking feel without a doubt that she was mated to a fucking psychopath who would burn cities to the ground for her.
I needed that for me, too, to really feel that she was here, safe, and with me and never leaving again.
I needed her alone so I could fuck her hard and rough and raw and come so deep inside her there was no way she wouldn’t get pregnant.
I needed in her.
And no one, nothing would stop me, not even Kayla.
31
Kayla
I’d never seen Adryan like this, so still, so silent… so terrifyingly focused on me.
It had been only half an hour since we emerged from the underground compound the Assembly had been using for God knows how long. He’d only given me a few moments to catch my breath.
The smoke in the tunnels had started to become so thick it made breathing impossible. And when I stumbled, trying to rise so we could get the hell out of there, he’d lifted me easily and tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
And God, he was fast. Everything around me had been a blur of shadows and bits of light as he raced to wherever the hell he was taking me. He’d held me so securely, and every once in a while, I heard him whisper something deeply.
But being bounced around, still short of breath, and the riotous feeling of shock ready to take control of me, I hadn’t been able to focus on anything else out but trying not to throw up.
Even when I’d been set back on the ground, Adryan kept his arm wrapped around me and kept me close. I noticed other men—so not human, by their sizes and glowing eyes—standing on the airstrip, blood and soot covering all of them.
There’d been two airplanes waiting, and Adryan ushered me into the closest one to us. He’d barked out for the others to take the second plane. I picked up a few bits and pieces of them speaking here and there, ones about getting everyone up to speed, contacting a man named Banner, checking on a man named Lennox, and Adryan growling into a cell phone that he had more pressing things to worry about right now—as he stared at me—and would catch everyone up after his priorities were handled.
And now here we were, me sitting in a lush leather seat across from Adryan. He hadn’t said anything after getting off the phone, just watched me, making me feel like he was very much a predator.
We’d only been airborne for about ten minutes, and because I’d never felt this type of wild, unsteady energy from him, I was doing everything in my power to not look at him.
I wasn’t afraid of Adryan, had never been if I was being totally honest. But I definitely felt off-kilter right now, as if I wasn’t sure if he’d snap and destroy the interior of the plane in the next moment.
I shifted on my seat; although I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel him watching me. I felt shaken to my core. My life had been precariously hanging by a thread, and it all happened in a matter of hours. I thought I’d die, that Adryan would watch, and there was nothing either one of us could do about it.
I kept my focus out the thickly tinted window beside my seat and whispered, “You’re angry.” I felt so stupid for saying that, for pointing out the obvious.
I didn’t have to see the blood covering his skin and clothes, didn’t have to stare at the blank expression on his face or the hard set in his eyes to come to that conclusion. There was just this very powerful energy that was swirling around him, the kind that would set anyone on edge.
The kind that had the hair on my arms rising up and my pulse beating a bit quicker.
When he said nothing, I glanced at him, and of course he was still solely focused on me. The muscles in his body were taut, his hands curled around the armrests of his seat, the muscles in his forearms and biceps contracting as he tightened his hold on the leather.
