Page 91 of The Librarian and Her Alphas

I scream beneath his fingers. My scream is muffled but loud enough to ring in my ears. I frantically bite down hard on his palm, tasting blood and sweat.

He hisses sharply, clamping his hand more fiercely over my mouth.

“You fucking bitch!” he snarls, his voice seething with menace.

Ignoring him, I thrash even harder, my vision blurring from fear. I dig my nails into the hand around my throat, clawing at his skin. Warm liquid runs down my hand, and a savage sense of satisfaction settles over me at the realization that I’ve drawn blood.

“I’ve had enough of you, you pathetic waste of space,” Zorin hisses. He turns me around roughly, the hand I’ve scourged going straight to my throat. His face is thunderous, his eyes squinted with malice, and his lips pressed into a hard, cruel line. “You will obey me!”

He draws his other hand back, and I brace myself, ready for the hard slap I know is coming. But before it does, something catches my eye—a pair of glowing eyes watching from the shadows behind him, their eerie gaze fixed upon us.

My heart pounds violently, relief flooding through me upon seeing Gunnar.

Zorin notices the movement, too, but before he can react, there’s a low growl, guttural and fierce, and suddenly, a flash of dark blond fur streaks across the basement. Gunnar, in his powerful wolf form, lunges directly at my captor.

Zorin releases me in shock, lurching backward, his arms raised defensively.

I stumble backward and out of his grasp, desperate to get out of the way before any harm comes to me or my babies.

The last thing I need is to get in between these fighting wolves.

Gunnar’s jaws clamp down, ripping fiercely into Zorin’s shoulder. A scream of pain tears from Zorin’s throat.

From behind me, another wolf emerges—large, muscular, and covered in thick black fur.

Damon.

He growls at Zorin, the sound reverberating in the small space, and then lunges at him from the opposite side, sinking his fangs deep into Zorin’s neck, the impact knocking them both sideways.

Zorin lets out a shrill yell before he fully transforms as well—an enormous white wolf standing in his place. Blood drips from his shoulder and the wound in his neck, but he struggles to his feet, snarling menacingly.

Damon stands in front of him, his chest heaving, and Gunnar comes to stand at his side, blood dripping from his maw.

His eyes glow, fury rolling off his tightly coiled body in waves.

My pulse races, relief mingling with fear as I watch the horror unfold before me. I want to scream, to tell Damon and Gunnar to be careful, but before I can, I’m picked up by a pair of strong arms.

I thrash wildly, thinking it must be Aleks or Raul. I need to escape and get as far away from them as possible.

I’m being carried toward the stairs, and I fight harder at the realization. If I go down, I’m going down where my men can see me.

“No!” I scream, at last, finding my voice. “Put me down!”

I writhe in the person’s arms, more determined than ever to escape.

“Lena! Sweetheart, it’s just me! It’s Max!”

“Oh, thank God,” I whisper, recognizing his voice and scent. I immediately stop moving and look into his eyes.

“I’ve got you, baby. We need to get you out of here.”

I cling to him instinctively, allowing him to carry me up the stairs and away from the chaos of the basement. He puts me down in the living room, far from the basement door, and grips my shoulders possessively.

“You should help them,” I say.

“Okay, stay here,” he urges. “Don’t get any closer to the basement. I don’t know what Zorin is capable of, but we’ll take care of the scumbag.”

I nod, my body still shaking with adrenaline.

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