Page 62 of The Warlock's Kiss

Coming, Adalynn. Hold on.

Chapter Twelve

The sounds from outside—bestial, preternatural snarls, growls, and roars, and strangewhooshingnoises almost like bursts of flame—were terrifying, but Adalynn couldn’t help looking. Merrick was out therealone, facing down a pack of werewolves; she had to know he was still okay. She peeled back a curtain to peek out into the back yard.

Fiery blue energy—Merrick’s magic—had scorched a huge patch of the lawn, but the wolves were still alive, still moving. She couldn’t see Merrick due to the angle and the balcony in the way. Her fear mounted with each passing second, and her heart lodged in her throat.

Just a glimpse of him. That’s all I need. That’s all I need to see to know he’s all right.

“What’s going on?” Danny asked. “Is he okay?”

Adalynn knew Danny was trying to be brave, trying to be strong, but there was a slight tremor in his voice.

She looked at her brother over her shoulder. “He’ll be fine.We’llbe fine. He’s…powerful.”

Danny’s features hardened, and he nodded.

A sense of pride filled her at the sight of her brother’s resolve, but it wasn’t without a touch of sadness—he shouldn’t have been forced to grow up in a world like this.

She turned back toward the window, and crippling terror seized her muscles. Glowing amber eyes stared at her through the windowpane—awerewolf’seyes. The wolf’s lips drew back in a predatory grin, baring sharp fangs.

“Danny, go! Hide!” Adalynn cried as she stumbled back, releasing the curtain. It fell, obscuring her view of the beast.

Heavy footsteps sounded along the balcony, moving around the corner and stopping at the glass doors leading out. The thin line of light below the long curtains was suddenly blocked out. The doors rattled violently.

Adalynn’s breath hitched. She raised the shotgun.

The balcony doors exploded inward with a cacophony of shattering glass and snapping wood, the shards glittering momentarily in the faint moonlight that streamed in through the opening. The werewolf was huge—he had to duck to fit through the doorway, and his shoulders were almost as wide as the double-door entry. But despite his size, he moved with lightning speed.

Adalynn pulled the trigger. The shotgun boomed, and the butt kicked back, slamming against her shoulder, but she was too scared to feel any pain.

The werewolf darted aside; Adalynn’s shot hit the upper doorframe, blasting a chunk out of it.

“Merrick!” she screamed. She tugged the shotgun’s grip back, ejecting the spent shell.

With another powerful leap, the werewolf was in front of her. Before she could finish pumping the weapon, he grabbed its barrel—it looked tiny in his massive fist—and tore it out of her grasp, tossing it aside. His other hand lashed out and wrapped around her throat. He lifted her off the floor like she weighed nothing and slammed her back into the wall.

Choking, Adalynn clawed at his hand and forearm in a desperate but meaningless battle against his hold.

“What’ve we got here?” the werewolf rumbled. He leaned his face closer, stuck his snout into her hair—close to her ear—and inhaled deep. A low, hungry growl rose from his chest. “You smell like sex.” He loosened his grip on Adalynn’s neck just enough for her to draw breath.

Adalynn dug her fingernails into his hand. “Let me go.”

The beast laughed—the sound was oddly raspy—giving her a whiff of his breath; there was metallic hint to it, reminiscent of blood. “When I’m done with you, woman.”

He licked her cheek, neck, and chin before shifting closer to settle his other hand on her thigh—herbarethigh. It was then that Adalynn realized the robe she was wearing had parted. His thickly calloused palm slid higher, but it didn’t hold her attention for long; something else grazed her inner thigh, something hot and thick that nonetheless sent horrified chills up her spine.

Releasing a growl of her own, Adalynn simultaneously slammed her fist into the side of the werewolf’s head and rammed her knee into his groin. She opened her fingers to grasp the fur near the wolf’s ear and tug it sharply.

The werewolf grunted, swatted her hand away, and retightened his grip on her neck. “Lively one. I like that. But you’re gonna have to learn your place, bitch.”

Adalynn continued her struggles, kicking, clawing, and hitting the werewolf, but it only seemed to arouse him further. When he finally released her neck, she fell to the floor, her legs crumpling beneath her. She sucked in several deep, gasping breaths. A second later, pain stabbed across her scalp as he grabbed her hair and dragged her away from the wall, forcing her onto her hands and knees.

Realization of what he intended to do struck her hard.

“No!” she cried, turning, drawing back her foot, and kicking the beast’s chest. It was like kicking a brick wall—the wolf didn’t budge. Adalynn managed only to scoot herself back on the floor a foot or two, pulling her robe taut beneath her. She flipped over and crawled away, but the werewolf caught her ankle and dragged her back beneath him.

His weight pressed down on her back. “I’m gonna get off whether you fight or not,” the wolf growled, “but it’ll hurt a lot more for you if you don’t knock it off.”

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