Forever Bound Series 1-4(80)

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The sounds of the vicious snarls and howls filled her ears. The waves were crashing close by, and the music still blared from the bar, so the humans probably weren’t even aware of the bloody battle going on so close to their safe little world.

Iona was too aware.

Jamie wasn’t a man any longer. But she knew that, in truth, he’d never been a man. That had just been a surface lie. Werewolves were always more beasts than men.

He was in the form of a big, fierce, black wolf now. A wolf that was easily twice the size of the others he attacked. A wolf that drew blood with his claws and his razor-sharp teeth and seemed to love the savagery of the fight.

No hesitation. No fear.

Two of his enemies were already on the ground.

A third would be out of the battle soon.

It appeared that Jamie was a true werewolf alpha.

Iona turned away from the battle. Alphas had always annoyed her. Maybe because she liked to be the alpha, too.

Whatever. She would leave Jamie’s lying beast to his own ends. He could handle the others—and she could find a human to eat. I’ll prove him wrong.

She just needed more blood. There was still a weakness in her limbs that she couldn’t allow. When she faced Latham—oh, I’ll see you dead soon—she had to be at full strength.

A wolf’s sharp cry pierced the air behind her. For just an instant, she hesitated and looked back. Jamie had taken out the white wolf. The beast was on his side, and she knew the dark shadow spreading on his coat was blood.

Jamie stood over his fallen prey, with his big body heaving. The wolf’s eyes—that same, piercing green—were on her.

I won’t let them hurt you. His words whispered through her mind.

As if she needed his protection. Her chin lifted. She’d walk back into the bar. Find another, non-drugged man to sample, and Jamie could fight his little blood battles.

A familiar scent teased her nose. Iona’s body stiffened.

Then a rumble of thunder broke the air. Jamie—his wolf—staggered back. More thunder rumbled. No, not thunder, a gunshot. Jamie hit the ground.

She was running toward him before she’d even realized what was happening. The other wolves had scattered back, but when they saw her rushing forward, the grey beast tossed his head and howled.

Blood.

And…Iona inhaled deeply, wondering about that other heavy, too thick scent in the air. A scent that was metallic, like…

Jamie was shifting before her. She’d never seen a wolf shift so quickly. Except for one time when her vamp coven had attacked invading wolves with silver. Silver could always force a fast change for a werewolf.

The beast was gone. On the ground, Jamie sprawled as a man. Bullet holes were in his chest. Her eyesight was perfect in the dark, probably even better than his, and Iona saw that he appeared to be bleeding in rivulets of silver.

Liquid silver? Was that the weapon of choice against werewolves these days?

Jamie’s claws drove into his own chest, and he yanked out a handful of silver. A brutal move that had the breath freezing in her lungs. Then he did it again, to the other bullet hole.

“Can’t…get it all…” His voice was barely human. “Liquid…in my blood…”

Yes, it would be. Unlike a solid silver bullet, the liquid silver would pour through him.

“I’ll…die…”

She realized that his head was in her lap. Iona didn’t remember sliding her knees under him. Why had she even come to check on him? The shooter could still be out there. The shooter could come for her.

She should run. Leave. Hunt.

Not lean over him and brush the hair from his forehead, but, sure enough, she saw her own trembling fingers sliding through that thick, dark hair.

What is wrong with me?

“If I die…” It certainly looked like the wolf was close to death. Jamie growled, then managed, “So…do you…”

She gazed down at him. She knew what others said about her. She was evil. Wicked. Without a soul.

And maybe some of those stories were true. But in this one instance…

Iona brushed her lips over his. A soft kiss. Gentle. Their first kiss.

It seemed strange to have it here, with blood around them.

It seemed strange to have the kiss after she’d already taken his blood.

But maybe it was fitting.

The kiss was light, but she enjoyed the taste of his lips almost as much as she’d enjoyed his blood.

Perhaps the werewolf could prove to be addictive to her.

And, maybe, she’d show him just how addictive she could be.

Her mouth lifted from his, a few inches. “What makes you think…” Iona asked him quietly, “that I would let you die by any hand other than my own?”

Then she lifted her hand. Brought it to her mouth. Sliced the flesh with her teeth, then offered her wrist to him.

When he drank, she understood that Jamie wasn’t like the others. For some reason, he’d touched a part of her that she’d buried deep inside. The human part. The part that wouldn’t let a man die before her eyes.

Not a man who’d saved her. Who’d tried to protect her.

I won’t let them hurt you.

Funny. No one had ever tried to protect her. Not even her father. No, he’d been the one to tie her to the stake on her twenty-fifth birthday. The day he’d realized she wasn’t aging as she should.