Page 36 of Howling
Fucking hell!
The small pack will fight, but they’re already in rough shape. If I leave, their chances of getting out alive will be slim at best.
Cursing, calling myself an idiot, I stomp toward the house.
A grunt from behind me has me whirling, and I see the Orion struggling to his feet. Most shifters are built sturdy, but he’s a giant, nearly seven feet if I had to guess. He staggers on unsteady legs, still chained, and takes a resolute step toward me, determination hardening his expression.
The thought of leaving him to the wolves is repulsive.
Though he’s still bound, I highly suspect he could wipe out the wolves without breaking a sweat…but not without sustaining damage.
Still buried in my mind from the silver poisoning, my wolf grumbles in protest, demanding that we take him with us. She refuses to budge without him. As ridiculous as it sounds, I feel possessive of the asshole, not to mention that he now has my scent. If I leave him, he’ll lead the other Orion right to me.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, defeat slumping my shoulders.
It’s either kill him now or take him with us.
I debate the pros and cons of both options, but it comes down to one fact—I can’t kill an unarmed man. No, that’s not right. I have no problem killing.
It’s him.
The thought of murdering him hurts my soul, which just pisses me off more. With a snarl of frustration, I grab the chains binding him and yank him after me. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
CHAPTER TEN
DANTE
Ifrantically dig through the bodies for any sign of the girl, searching for the scent of her blood, but I find nothing.
She can’t just be gone.
While I don’t have a lot of faith in people, the stubborn girl who conned her way into our house wouldn’t have run off in the middle of a fight.
She wouldn’t have just left us—I know it deep in my soul.
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t give a shit. Fuck them, I say, but Frankie is different. She’s not allowed to leave yet, not until I uncover her secrets and discover what game she’s playing. Garth doesn’t say anything as he turns the last body over, like she will be hiding under a corpse or something. Not that I’m any better, combing through mangled body parts to see if any of them belonged to her.
Garth abruptly lifts his head in the air, his chest expanding as he inhales. I do the same, hoping to catch her scent, then I curse when I sense more wolves heading this way.
Fuck!
“We need to go.” I rake my bloody hands through my hair, the pain helping me block out the way my beast is throwing a temper tantrum, his ominous growl vibrating my bones. Normally, I struggle to pull him back when he’s consumed by bloodlust, only that didn’t happen this time.
No, it’s worse.
The moody bastard is kicking up a fuss that we would dare leave without the girl.
Garth doesn’t move or acknowledge me in any way, and I mutter obscenities under my breath at the stubborn ass. Dragging him away when his beast is in charge is a near impossible task, especially if I want to keep all my limbs intact. Last time, I was able to knock him out, but I don’t think he’ll fall for that twice.
Gearing myself up to take a beating, I take a step toward him. The second I move, he whips his head in my direction, and I freeze.
Only he’s not looking at me.
I shift to keep him in view, having learned from experience not to give him my back. When I see what caught his attention, my eyebrows shoot up and my mouth drops open in shock. The little girl is calmly leading a massive beast by a chain, seemingly unconcerned that he could rip her in half without blinking.
The beast—because there is no doubt that he’s a shifter—docilely follows her. Even chained, I won’t make the mistake of thinking he’s not dangerous. I could respect that, but something about the intense way the asshole gazes down at the girl raises my hackles.
I don’t give a fuck that he helped take out some of the wolves during the fight. There is no fucking doubt in my mind that he only did so because they were in his way.
