Page 103 of Saving the Last Heir
Shyanne, smart as she was, kept her head down, the brim of the ball cap hiding most of her face away.
After scanning her up and down like she was some juicy steak to devour, Joseph turned his attention back to me and nodded toward the car.
“Is the little bitch in there?”
I gritted my teeth, but held my temper at bay. “Yes.”
“Good, deal,” he said. “Go ahead and get her out.”
“Why?” I spat. “I’ve just got to kill her later.” I pointed in the direction that Jaden had run. “Your spy made sure you knew we did as you asked. We’re here, now we can go. I’d rather do this in private.”
Joseph threw his head back and laughed, a big boisterous sound that was incongruous in this situation. When he brought himself under control, he leveled his gaze at me and slowly shook his head.
“You still think you can call the shots? How many times do I have to tell you thatI’min charge? Open the goddamn trunk.”
“Where’s my sister?” I said, unable to help myself. “I want proof of life.”
“You want— Thefuckingballs on this guy,” Joseph said, turning to look at his men.
The shifted drakes snarled and hissed, staring daggers at me. The two large bodyguard drakes looked at me with disdain, smirking.
“She’s inside,” Joseph said at last, then snapped his fingers at the hulking man beside him. “Enzo, go help Mr. Adelmund get our little prize out of the trunk, will you?”
The big man strode forward, glaring at me.
“Pop the trunk,” I muttered to Shyanne.
Nodding, she leaned down, and pulled the trunk lever. Thankfully, she was doing as I’d asked, stayingrightby the driver seat, door open.
Enzo approached and reached out as if to grab my arm and escort me to the rear of the car. I jerked away.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I growled.
Enzo’s nostrils flared, and he pressed his chest against mine. “Think you’re a big man, do ya?” he whispered.
I glared at him. The guy was only an inch shorter than my six-foot-five frame, but he still outweighed me by about fifty pounds. That didn’t matter. I was an alpha, and this guy was still a shifter. My dragon snarled, and I pressed against him, allowing every ounce of my alpha aura to surge out.
He flinched and took a step back, unconsciously bowing his head. He looked pissed, and so did the other men, Joseph had a vein pulsing at the side of his neck.
“Enough!” Joseph shouted. “Get the fucking kid.”
Enzo, still not looking me in the eye, trudged along, following me to the trunk. Grabbing the metal, I paused for half a second, sending up a prayer to whatever god or gods might be looking down on us to make our plan work. After that brief request of fate, I lifted the lid.
Enzo looked down into the trunk for several long seconds, then lifted his head, filling his lungs and shouting.
“He’s got her. She’s here,” Enzo cried.
The bundle in the trunk moved slightly, almost writhing in pain, and a faint whimper could be heard as if Bryn was hurt or terrified. The yellow blanket covered her entirely. Not even her hair was visible above it. She was a small kid, and it didn’t take much to hide her.
Reaching forward, I attempted to scoop her up, but Enzo shoved me aside, almost making me fall, and did it himself. He hauled her out with less care than I would give a sack of groceries, banging her head on the trunk lid. A yelp emerged from the bundle, followed by the quiet sobs of a hurt little girl. Seething with rage, I clenched my fists and followed him.
In his arms, the bundle continued to writhe, but with very little actual force to it, as if she’d simply given up and accepted her fate. Enzo stepped up to Joseph and tilted the bundle toward his boss. Joseph shot me a wary look, then pulled a bit of blanket aside, revealing a few wisps of hair.
“There she is,” Joseph said with obvious pleasure and relish. “All right. All good. Get the fuck outta here. I’ve got my chef making me some pastaambrógio,and I’m starving.”
Joseph was a few steps away when Enzo spoke up. “Boss, you don’t want to watch the deed?”
Joseph looked at his minion as though he’d asked if he wanted some dog shit smeared on his face.
