Savage Urges (The Phoenix Pack, #5)(93)

Straddling Selene, she dragged her claws down the Head Enforcer’s back. Makenna smiled at the sound of cloth tearing, skin splitting open, and the bitch’s howl of pain. The smell of Selene’s blood made Makenna’s wolf bare her teeth in wicked satisfaction.

Yeah, she was half feral all right. But for now, Makenna didn’t have the emotional capacity to care.

As she raised her hand to stab the bitch beneath her, someone grabbed Makenna’s wrist and yanked her away. Pain rippled through Makenna’s shoulder as the move almost wrenched her damn arm from the socket. Then the interfering f*cker at her back disappeared with a howl of agony.

Makenna didn’t check to see whom her savior was. She only had eyes for Selene, who had jumped to her feet. Selene, who had killed Colton and tried to stab Madisyn. She needed to die. And it needed to hurt.

Makenna snatched a chair and swung it at Selene. The bitch caught it by one leg. No matter. Makenna snapped off one of the other chair legs and, once Selene had slung the chair aside, whacked the leg across her face. It hit Selene’s cheekbone with a satisfying crack.

Selene stared at her, wide-eyed in pure disbelief. “You hit me with a chair.” Pure disbelief.

Yeah, yeah, shifters fought with teeth and claws. Well, Makenna fought with whatever she f*cking found. She was a scrapper, not a trained enforcer. And right then, she had no care for what was fair.

“Aw, was Colton a dear friend?” taunted Selene. She kicked Makenna hard in the stomach.

The impact took Makenna’s breath away and made her stumble. The backs of her thighs banged into a table and, shit, that hurt. Shelving the pain, Makenna went at her with an arsenal of teeth, claws, limbs, and a chair leg. All the while, shifters howled and roared and hissed around them. The scents of blood, sweat, and anger rose in the air, inciting her wolf.

Selene ducked and dodged. Punched and kicked. Bit and clawed. It hurt, it stung, and Makenna motherf*cking bled. But she was beyond caring about the pain. Beyond caring that Selene was strong and well trained. Beyond caring that her own blood was flowing. Beyond caring about anything other than ending this bitch.

The female went to skirt around Makenna, no doubt to reach Remy and help him fight off Ryan. Oh the f*ck no. Makenna blocked her path.

“You can’t win this,” Selene hissed. “I’m a Head Enforcer.”

“Who’s hot for a pedophile—go judge me for not ranking you highly.” Makenna grabbed a tray from one of the tables and whipped it at Selene. It caught her head, making it snap to the side.

“He never touched those boys.” With a growl, Selene copied her by snatching another tray and hurling it.

Makenna raised her hand to block the tray. It smacked the tip of her little finger, making the nail snap back for a single second. Motherf*cker. “Sure he did. He’s a twisted f*ck, just like his mother.” The latter word made Selene’s lip curl back. So she didn’t like Deanne either. “Let me guess . . . she tries to keep you away from Remy.”

“Because she knows he’s my mate.”

“Your mate?” echoed Makenna, shocked.

“My true mate. When he finally accepts that, when he’s ready, we’ll claim each other.”

No wonder Selene was in complete denial about Remy. If Makenna weren’t half feral, she might have felt sorry for her, might have pitied her for discovering that her mate’s childhood had so warped his mind that he could never be the perfect match he otherwise would have been. But right then, Makenna only saw a bitch who’d killed her friend.

Selene once again tried to reach Remy. Makenna blocked her path and slashed at Selene’s face, catching her bottom lip. That had to f*cking sting. And now she’d be able to taste her own blood. Makenna’s wolf liked knowing that. “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten rid of Deanne.” Makenna would have destroyed anyone who harmed Ryan that way.

“It would hurt Remy.” Selene ran a finger over her bleeding lip. “He loves her. He says she never hurt him.”

“Because he can’t accept he’s a victim.”

Selene shook her head. “If he says she didn’t hurt him, I believe him. Now let’s get this over with so I can end you, just like Remy will end your mate.” She leaped at Makenna.


Ryan used his arm to swipe away the blood obscuring his vision. The slashes on his forehead were deep and throbbed. It was no surprise that Remy, as an Alpha, was a worthy opponent. He was strong. Confident. Well versed in various forms of combat. Careful not to telegraph his movements. And his punch was like a jackhammer.

All of which was very inconvenient.

He was also a guy who liked to go for the face and chest. Ryan’s jaw throbbed from the hard blows it had taken. His ear burned from when Remy had tried to bite it off. And his T-shirt was wet with blood and sweat.

Still, Ryan had been training since he was a child. He knew how to block pain, knew every weak spot on a human body, and knew how to defend just as well as attack. Remy, however, wasn’t so good at defense—Ryan had pounced on that weakness. Which was why Remy was in no better shape than him.

“I don’t know many enforcers who’d take on an Alpha.” Remy licked his split lip. “I guess you’re a little pissed that I sold Makenna’s identity to the extremists.”

Ryan really wasn’t sure why the guy kept talking. He actually didn’t mind that Remy was doing his best to taunt him. Talking meant he found it hard to keep his breathing steady. Besides, Ryan knew better than to let emotions, worries, or pain distract him. So he’d kept his anger in check. Didn’t let himself dwell on how this bastard had stolen the innocence of children, or on how he was made from the same cloth of the males who had hurt Zac.