Page 49 of Riding A Cock-Horse
The wolverines snarl in unison, herding us inward on the island. I keep Elise close to me with a hand wrapped around her waist in support; I know her right arm is broken—the raptor did that. The height in which she dropped into the ocean makes my stomach twist. She’s lucky that she didn't knock herself unconscious and drown. That's why I instantly flew down and shifted because I knew she had been injured. I feel like I have enough blood on my hands for the situation we're in. I won't have more of it. I won't lose anyone to my own stupidity.
We walk for about thirty minutes with me catching Elise as she stumbles to keep up. The branches are becoming thicker as we go deeper into the island. Where we’re at isn’t inhabited by anyone—it must be the protected grounds for the wolverines.
Great.
This is theperfectplace for the Tershes to have headquarters since nobody can disrupt the area and humans can't be on it.
Finally, we come to a stump where the three wolverines shift in unison—they’re triplets. Elise and I stare in shock at the trio before our eyes. One walks over to the stump and kicks it with brute force. It rips out of the ground to reveal a grate that another one turns and opens before growling and pointing. I wonder if these Tershes even speak English or spend most of their time in their animal forms.
It’s dark where we’re at, and the trees around us shroud the moonlight. Luckily, my shifter senses allow me to see better than most humans would be able to. Beneath the grate, is a gaping hole—and a tunnel that leads deep into the ground. The third wolverine shifter pushes Elise and me forward none too gently, indicating toward the dark hole where we're supposed to go.
“No fucking way!” Elise snaps.
In answer, the first wolverine kicks her behind the knee. She goes down with a howl of pain, and it takes everything in my strength to keep her upright. The movement nearly buckles my own knees with the strength that she was kicked with. My blood boils and rage sizzles along my nerve endings, but somehow I manage to keep it tamped down. I am no match for these men, and I won't put us at any more risk.
“I'll go down first,” I whisper to Elise.
She looks at me with so much sorrow in her eyes, but she knows that we have no choice. I give her one last hug before climbing into the hole. Rung after rung, I go down, making sure that my steps are slow and steady. Occasionally, I touch Elise’s leg to check if she’s alright with her broken arm—I don't want her to slip and fall.
Further and further down we go, and I have no idea how deep this hellhole is. My cockchafer senses tingle when we finally reach the bottom—we're easily a quarter kilometer down. Being this far below sea level is very unsettling. I reach up to catch Elise as she reaches the bottom rung and set her down next to me.
Nudity isn't an issue for shifters, but I don't like the way the wolverines are looking at her like a piece of meat they can't wait to devour. They are the epitome of a true Tertiary—they think they can have whatever they want, whenever they want, because of what and who they are. The wolverines are above common decency and what they consider ‘human rules’—and rape is a human rule. I hug Elise tenderly, knowing that she’s scared not only for ourselves, but for Belle, Theo, and Sian. We must play our cards carefully if we want to come out of this alive, but I will happily sacrifice myself fighting these monsters if they harm Elise in any way.
We're led down a dark, sterile hallway. Even though all of my senses are heightened, I still can't hear anything—it's almost like sensory deprivation. It's unnerving, and I don't enjoy the sensation. Even more so, I despise not knowing what we're walking into, or where the wolverines are leading us.
I don't know how to prepare.
I don't know how to plan.
These Tertiaries have effectively manipulated my weakness without even knowing what it was—my need to be in control. After what seems like an eternity, we're led down another corridor and then into a room. This one has the lights on. As my eyes adjust to the brightness, they zero in on a corner where there are cages, and there inside kept like an animal, is Theo.
Belle is nowhere in sight.
While Nestor's hailed as the cock of the walk, Theo and I are led to some underground bunker of hell in the middle of nowhere by a bunch of rabid men who look nothing like Hugh Jackman. I remember what Arthur said about my anger controlling my animal. I call upon it now, my rage a feral beast. But of course, I don't shift—which sucks because my ass snake would bite the shit out of these dill holes and kill them in a second.
Where's my black mamba when I need it?
The fickle fucker—that thing and I seriously need to have a talk. At a certain point, Theo and I are separated. I whimper, and Theo tries to run back towards me only to be sucker punched in the face, knocked out cold by one of the wolverines. I've never wanted to commit murder before or become a cannibal, but I'm pretty sure that I'm going to bite off Nestor's dick, eat it, and then slit his throat.
When I'm in Chimera form, of course.
I lick my lips, warming up to the idea. Maybe I'll gut him with my claws or use my goat horn to stab him in the chest. My black mamba's just going to sit this one out.
A venomous death by a lethal toxin is too merciful and quick for that bastard.
“You better not hurt a hair on his head!” I snarl when one of the wolverines carelessly picks up Theo to sling him over his back and carry him off in the opposite direction.
Nestor follows them and I'm led away by the other two X-men fucks. No one acknowledges my threat, and so, I just keep ranting loudly as I walk down the hall. Finally, the wolverine shifter comes to a stop before a door that he opens. The sight that awaits me inside makes me screech in horror. There are five women tied to five separate beds—all in various states of pregnancy.
And if I'm not mistaken, one is giving birth.
“Stay,” the wolverine man grunts.
It's the only word I've heard him use. He shuts the door behind me. I rush to it, but of course, it's locked. I turn back to the five women. Three look so frightened they might pass out, another looks ill, and the last one looks like a cross between excruciatingly pained and pissed—which I can't blame her because it looks like she's ready to pop out a monster.
“Are you the doctor?” she manages to grit out. “They said they were bringing me a doctor. I've been in labor for four hours, tied to this bed with no one!”
My stomach drops out my ass.
