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“Wildcat.” Her name was thunder in my chest. I closed my eyes and leaned down. With every breath, I tasted her. With every exhale, I craved her. “Mine.” The beast staked its claim.
I ran my nose along her neck, licking her skin, triggering a primal, seductive sound in the back of her throat. Underneath the pain and burn, my body responded. I pressed against her, thrusting my hips before I gave one hard lick, then pushed away and stumbled through the open door of my cell.
“Colt!” The call came behind me. “COLT!”
They called.
But there was no Colt here.
There was only the beast.
TWENTY-FOUR
Vivienne
“COLT!” Carven roared.
All I heard was the boom…boom…boom.
But I didn’t know if it came from my heart or Colt’s fading footsteps. They all ran out, every single one, leaving me behind. I lifted my hand to touch the slick from Colt’s tongue on my neck as it cooled against my skin and tried to understand what the fuck just happened.
“Vivienne!” London roared.
Thunder sounded once more, then he was there, filling up the doorway of the cell where we’d found Colt.
“Pet?” London gasped, and reached for my hand.
I met his stare, gave a nod, and finally moved, following him out of there. He held me as we ran, following the others along the dark, dank hall of the slaughterhouse until we came to the metal stairs we’d descended minutes before.
It felt like hours…days, almost. Days in that cold and the dank and the smell…oh, God. The smell.
My stomach clenched. Blood and death crammed my nostrils as I gripped London’s big hand and raced up the stairs a step behind him.
“Colt!” Carven screamed, his voice booming through the space. “COME BACK! WE WANT TO HELP YOU!”
We ran between the filthy, empty pens that once held animals for slaughter, bursting out from the cracked open doors to stop dead in the middle of nowhere.
“Where the fuck did he go?” London growled, scanning the trees and the darkness.
“Hell if I know.” Guild sucked in hard breaths as he pressed his hand to his shoulder and winced in pain.
London swivelled, meeting my gaze. “What the hell happened back there?”
He bellowed at me as though he wasn’t right in the damn room himself. “What do you mean?” I shook my head, pulling my hand from his. “I tried to help him. I tried to—”
With a pissed off snarl, London started walking toward the trees surrounding the abattoir.
“I dunno what you all saw. But that…that was not Colt.” Guild shook his head as Carven appeared from the trees, striding toward us.
“Yes,” London answered with his back to us, his tone grave. “It was.”
I shook my head, remembering the pure lunacy in Colt’s stare. My Colt…MY COLT. He was the man who’d held me, who’d loved me…who’d kept me safe. But that man…that…that didn’t look like him.
“Maybe he’s gone home.” Carven shook his head as he strode to where the cars waited with engines still running and open doors.
Headlights spilled along the dirt outside the slaughterhouse. I followed the others, climbed back into the Raptor, and yanked the door closed barely a second before the four-wheel drive shot forward.
“He’s alive,” London muttered, scanning the trees as we drove to where Helene and her men waited parked by the side of the road. “That’s the only thing that matters right now.”
