Dark Wolf Running. Rhyannon Byrd
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Oh, God. God, no. She’d rather die!
Air finally rushed its way into her lungs as she yanked her head to the side, her fear releasing in an ear-piercing scream. Elise twisted and fought like a madwoman to break free, but it didn’t matter. He was too strong, holding her tight against the front of his disgustingly aroused body as he began pulling her across the room. With sickening horror, she realized he was dragging her toward the bed. She drew in as much air as she could, screaming louder than she could ever remember doing. Screaming so hard that it hurt. Eyes watering and nose running, her throat ached as she sobbed and shouted. Then her attacker wrapped his thick arm around her throat, cutting off her air again, and her screams died to a pitiful, breathless gasp. Her vision blurred, tiny pinpricks of cold burning beneath her skin, his guttural voice feeding words she could no longer make sense of into her ear. But she knew what was coming. She was going to die. Slowly. Painfully. Cruelly.
Fight, damn it. Change!
She wished she could act on the survival instinct, but as her consciousness flickered, she knew it was too late. They’d broken her three years ago, leaving her on the verge of death in a pool of her own blood, barely breathing.
And now one of them had come back to finish the job.
Chapter 3
If the sound of those piercing screams had chilled his blood and fueled his rage, the silence that followed nearly stopped Wyatt’s heart. He’d been passing along the far back corner of her property when he’d caught the faint notes of that first terrified cry, and set off running as fast as he could. Within seconds, he’d crossed her backyard, shoving past her neighbor and ordering the guy to call the Runners’ security hotline, before tearing into the house through the kitchen door. He was hurrying toward Elise’s scent when he plowed straight into the bastard. Snarling, they crashed to the living-room floor as they each fought for the upper hand, landing crushing blows that would have killed a human.
“You like preying on women, you sadistic piece of shit?” Wyatt roared, releasing his claws and fangs as he gripped the male’s balaclava-covered head and slammed his skull against the hardwood floor. “Why don’t you try taking on someone your own size?”
“You don’t scare me, pretty boy,” the Lycan growled, his own deadly claws extending from the tips of his fingers. “I eat half-breed assholes like you for breakfast.”
They rolled across the floor, smashing into the coffee table, their booted feet knocking over furniture as they grappled, blocked and struck blows with animalistic savagery. His opponent was unnaturally strong, even for a Lycan, but Wyatt was fueled with the driving need to reach Elise and make sure she hadn’t been harmed. Blocking a blow to his neck, he used his feet to toss the asshole over his head and into one of the side tables, the delicate piece of furniture splintering under the male’s weight. They both twisted and lurched onto their feet, claws extended at their sides, facing off across what was left of a ruined sofa. Coarse, guttural chuffs of aggression rumbled deep in their chests, and then they exploded into action, shifting the upper halves of their bodies into the powerful shape of their beasts. With his head changed into the wolf’s larger form, the Lycan’s mask had dropped in pieces to the floor...but Wyatt didn’t recognize the beast staring back at him. Without being able to see the male’s human face, he couldn’t be sure if this were someone he’d met before or not. Dodging to evade a kick to his groin, Wyatt spun with a side kick aimed at the guy’s chest, slamming the bastard into one of the walls so hard he nearly went through it. Shaking his head to clear it, the Lycan lurched to his feet and maneuvered to the left, putting the broken table between them.
“Come on, asshole,” Wyatt growled through his muzzled snout, his graveled tone a perfect match for his feral expression of fury. “Either fight me or admit defeat. Stop wasting my time.”
“Yeah? You really think you’re so smart, don’t you?” the male sneered, his golden gaze glittering with something that looked strangely like humor.
What the hell did this jackass think was so funny? Wanting to finish this now, Wyatt’s top lip curled back over his deadly fangs. “I’m smart enough to take your ass to the ground.”
Snickering, the Lycan said, “And while you’re wasting your precious time in here with me, your little piece of ass is getting what she deserves.”
He froze, dread slithering through his system like a cold blade. Fuck, no. Had he actually made such a horrific mistake?
“What?” the Lycan taunted. “You didn’t really think one of us would come alone, did you?”
“You son of a bitch!” Wyatt snarled, torn between the choice of reaching Elise or staying to fight this jerk-off to the death. But there really wasn’t any choice at all. With a guttural roar, he grabbed the edges of a massive wooden bookshelf that lined an entire wall of the room and wrenched it forward, trapping the Lycan beneath the toppling case. Then he turned and raced toward the back of the house, where he knew Elise’s bedroom was located. In his panic, it felt as if he’d been fighting the Lycan for hours, though he knew in reality it’d only been a matter of seconds. But they were seconds that she’d been in danger. He’d mistakenly assumed she was in her room, trying to collect herself, safe now that he’d come to her rescue. But he couldn’t have gotten it more wrong. He should have known, damn it, instead of letting his bloodlust get the better of him.
Wyatt could hear the Lycan shouting from the living room, but he tuned out the words, his attention riveted on the macabre scene he found as he burst into her room. Elise was trapped beneath a second assailant on her bed, struggling to get free, while the sadistic bastard pressed his forearm across her throat, cutting off her air. The male also wore a black balaclava over his head, concealing his features. As Wyatt threw himself at her attacker, he sucked in a sharp breath, searching for the male’s scent, but there wasn’t one. Like a blank canvas, there wasn’t a single speck of Lycan musk to pull into his lungs—a trait this one shared with his partner—and it screamed Whiteclaw. After the attack some of the Whiteclaw and Donovan wolves had made on the Runners a few weeks ago in the Alley, they knew the wolves had developed a drug that not only made them violently strong, but also camouflaged their scent. But if this were another Whiteclaw attack, why come after Elise? Because of her brother and his association with the Runners? Had it made her a target, just as Eric had feared?
Digging his claws into the male’s side, Wyatt tried to bite out the Lycan’s throat, but was blocked by a powerful blow to his jaw. The male was unbelievably strong—another sign that he’d been amped up with the “super drug” that blocked a wolf’s scent—and Wyatt had to use every ounce of strength he possessed to pull the bastard off the bed, away from Elise, and hurl him across the room. Moving quickly back to his feet, the Lycan released his claws, looking more than ready to fight, until the sound of screeching tires on the street outside signaled the arrival of the other Runners.
“Next time you won’t be so lucky,” the male snarled, apparently realizing he wasn’t going to win now that backup had arrived. Without another word, he turned and retreated, running down the hallway. Wyatt heard the Lycan growl something at the one he’d left in the living room. Either the guy had already gotten free or the second Lycan helped him, because there were suddenly two sets of pounding footsteps as the pair made their way outside, around the side of the house and into the wooded park. Fighting back a bloodcurdling howl, it took all of Wyatt’s willpower not