AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Dammit woman, how many do I have to kill?”
“As many as it takes,” Sheila said with a heartless laugh. “Sooner or later one of them will get lucky and you’ll die.”
A young wolf leapt at him in a vain attempt to tear out his throat, but the angle was wrong, only grazing his shoulder and giving the wolf a knife to the gut for his trouble. This kind of experience would be a harsh teacher. Damn them. Couldn’t they see how stupid it was to pit him against little more than teenagers? Most of them hadn’t even shifted forms.
Of course, their tactic was working. He would eventually be killed, but the cost to the Coyote Clan was ridiculous.
“Is a little sand worth the lives of your young?” He was tempted to just tell them to take it. What the hell did he need with most of a state anyhow?
The bitch answered this time. “If you don’t die, then other clans will just challenge us for the territory. You have to die and if a few of ours do with you, then so be it. More land for those strong enough to hold it.”
What a bitch. This wasn’t about the space. The Coyote Clan was large but not so much so to be crowded out of their own patch of land. It couldn’t even be the resources. Sure, there were probably plenty that could be ravaged, but it wasn’t as if he owned any actual property. Holding a territory and owning the rights to the land were completely different. Surely even her idiot of a husband knew that.
No there had to be more to it than that. Maybe they already owned the land and planned to use the Coyote Clan to control it? The connection was thin, damn near invisible. But something like that was possible.
That was when he noticed that not all the wolves were being thrown at him. No, the attacks came from the opposite side of the room from where the human and his bitch stood.
Well fuck…
They were using him to do their dirty work. She’d mentioned a reward, a favor for the one to take him out. But these wolves were not fighting for something so nice as a cookie. Each and every one of them had the look of despair or desperation.
“What did you promise them?”
One man already sporting several injuries came at him in human form, lunging forward with what looked like a steak knife. He kicked the weapon aside and slugged him hard enough to knock him down onto the patio stones.
“These ones don’t fight out of loyalty.” Yet they kept coming. All he could do was continue to counter each attack and keep looking for a way to escape.
“Of course, they do. My wolves adore me.”
That was a fucking lie. They were clearly being forced to fight. Just being Valàfrn didn’t make them great fighters. If he had to guess, most of these had never been in a serious fight ever before. He’d been holding back in the beginning for just that reason. But soon enough he’d been overwhelmed by the numbers and non-stop attacks.
One man across the room glared her direction. That one would be the bargaining chip. She held something over his head to force this suicide mission. But he looked strong enough to actually make a battle of it. So why wasn’t he in the front line?
Not that it mattered. Another wolf hit him hard. He couldn’t afford distractions even against these young ones.
Just as the wolf tore into his leg two boys hit him from one side spinning his back away from the wall and the protection it offered.
Two more came at his back with knives.
Oh, yeah…. He was fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Harley listened to the battle raging on the other side of the door, consisting of the shouts from people, as well as far more savage, animalistic sounds. Zeven was in there, facing who knew how many other werewolves, all trying to kill him. And she’d had the nerve to tell him that killing was wrong. Knowing his life was on the line changed everything.
Deven slammed his shoulder into the door once, twice and then shot out the lock, kicking the set of double doors open with a crash.
She stayed back as he’d ordered but it didn’t take long to realize that there was little need for her to worry about her own safety.
The moment Deven cleared the door, He swung his gun around and sprayed the courtyard with automatic fire. His aim was high but left no doubt that the next rounds wouldn’t be so harmless. “Stand down and back the fuck off.”
The people and wolves did back up, revealing Zeven lying still on the stone floor. Only then did she realize she didn’t feel his pain any longer. “Oh God.”
“Go to him, Harley.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She raced to his side and dropped to her knees. The wounds were terrible. He had injuries all over his body. Zeven had been ripped to shreds. Dozens of cuts and bites. Two long gashes crossed his stomach just where she’d been hurting. But when she looked closer, she could tell that those two were partially healed. Then there were the deeper stabs to his sides. Those seemed to be the worst and most recent.
And so much blood loss. Her fingers were damp and slick with his blood. She checked for a pulse and felt nothing. Maybe something. It was too weak to confirm. She trembled. And hesitated.
