Page 77 of Undying
A mate is everything to us wolves, her happiness the very air we breathe. Anything that threatens it is like a thorn in our side that will keep bothering us until we can take care of the problem.
A scowl darkens Tobias’ face, and he marches across the room, not stopping until he’s right in Jolie’s face. “What’s wrong?”
I answer before she can sugarcoat anything. “We have two new intruders—servants. She doesn’t like them in our den.”
His lips pull back in a silent snarl, his blue eyes brightening as his wolf takes control. Leaning down, he kisses her forehead, rubbing his cheek against hers to mark her, before straightening. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll start our own search for servants. We can interview them together and decide who’s allowed in the house.”
Without waiting for a response, he strides from the room with determined steps. His broad shoulders are tense, his claws tipping his fingers, and I stifle a groan at the chaos he’s going to stir. When Jolie leans forward as if to go after him, I tighten my hold.
“But—”
“Come.” I reluctantly release her, then tug her farther into the room. “We need to decide which pieces of furniture you want to keep, what you want to store in the attic, and which ones you want to put out back for a bonfire.”
A range of emotions crosses her face—a grimace, then acceptance, before an expression of glee lights up her eyes. Dainty little fangs peek out between her lips, and damn if my cock doesn’t harden at the image. I pull off the coverings on the furniture and discreetly adjust my cock.
It doesn’t take long to uncover everything, then I dutifully trail behind her and begin shoving items into different sections on what gets saved and what gets tossed. I should be annoyed to be relegated to such menial tasks, but I find myself loving every second of it, content to just be in her presence.
Then she stops so suddenly that I nearly run into her, an old furniture covering dangling from her fingertips. She’s so still, so stiff, that my fangs and claws instantly lengthen, and I immediately search for a threat. When I don’t find anything, I look to see what caught her attention.
And find an elaborate, antique dining room table.
I take a step closer, and it’s like I’ve been slammed in the face with a two-by-four when the scent of her blood reaches me. I leap the distance toward the table, the scent of the blood increasing, driving my wolf insane with the need for vengeance.
Ominous stains nearly cover the entire surface.
So much blood that it takes a few seconds for my brain to comprehend what it means—this is most likely where she died. A few spots along the edges are so worn that the wood has chipped away. I run my fingers along the ragged shards with shaking fingers and realize they tied her down with rope.
Rage takes over as I imagine what the fuckers did to her—what they did to my mate—while I wasn’t there to protect her. I tip back my head and release a massive roar loud enough to shake the windows. I bring down my fists once, then twice, grunting in satisfaction when the table cracks. On the third strike, three of the legs shatter, and the table collapses to the floor in two pieces.
Chest heaving, hands on my hips, I glare down at the offensive item for a second longer, completely unsatisfied. Then I grit my teeth, haul it over my head, and march toward the French doors. I don’t bother releasing my load, just kick the doors open and march outside. Only when I’m a safe distance from the house do I release my grip, then resolutely go back inside for the other half, completely ignoring looking at mysæta. I won’t be able to contain my wolf if I see her shattered expression.
By the time I have every piece of the table loaded in a pile, even the splinters left behind from the destruction, I retrieve the lighter fluid and matches I picked up from the kitchen and douse every inch of the fucker until the can is empty. Jolie comes to stand at my side, and I silently offer her the matches.
“I think you need this more than I do.” She curls her fingers over my hand, peering up at me with a solemn expression that wrenches at my heart, and my wolf whimpers in distress.
I search her expression for any hint of distress, and I’m surprised to see a look of peace on her face. I light the match, watching the small flame blaze brightly before I toss it. It arches through the air. When it lands, the table ignites with awhoosh, the flames jumping twenty feet into the air.
I smile with grim satisfaction as I watch the fucker burn to ash.
Jolie squeezes my arm, drawing my attention, and I tear my eyes away from the pyre. “Thank you for getting rid of the table for me. I’m going to go back inside and sort the rest of the furniture.”
“Of course. Anything for you.” Satisfaction fills me at being able to fight her demons, and my chest puffs out. I look back at the house with grim determination, leaning more and more toward burning the whole fucking thing to the ground rather than allow her to go back to the place where she endured such pain and suffering. “I’ll join you.”
But Jolie just shakes her head. “No, you stay. I’ll be good. The rest of the furniture should be fine.” She turns as if to look over her shoulder at the fire, then stops herself. “I’d rather you stay and make sure not even a splinter of that table remains.”
More than pleased to finish the task, I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Just call me if you need me for anything.”
She brushes her cheek against my arm, and my wolf gives a rumble of pleasure at carrying her scent. I watch her walk toward the house, only satisfied when I see her safely tucked inside the mansion, before I turn back toward the fire and stare at the flames with a resolute expression.
The others need to be told what happened so we can watch her for any other triggers. Fuck the vampires and their traditions. If it becomes too much, we’ll plan a date night and burn the damn house to the ground.
ChapterTwenty-Three
JOLIE
Back in the mansion, I stand in the middle of the room, my hands on my hips as I survey the rest of the furniture. My soul feels lighter at seeing the table destroyed, the oppressive air gone from the room.
When I first saw the blood soaked surface, my mind was immediately stuck reliving the torture. Castle’s roar broke whatever hold the past had on me, and I could only gape as the wolf completely lost his shit and did his best to smash the table into toothpicks.
