Lycan Unleashed. Shannon CurtisЧитать онлайн книгу.
reached her.
“But it’s dark,” the girl whispered, shrinking back.
Trinity winked. “It’s okay, Mia. The dark can be your friend,” she whispered back. “It can hug you and hide you. Don’t worry, it’s only dark until the first intersection.” She’d learned that the dark could protect, could hide, could reveal all sorts of secrets.
“What if we get lost?” Mia whimpered.
“You won’t. Keep turning right, and you’ll end up in the laundry.” She knew all of the tunnels within the mountain like the back of her hand, knew exactly the quickest, shortest route to safety for her pups. “When you’re all inside, go and wait for me in the great hall. Now go.”
She put her hand over the child’s head, guiding her through the opening so that she wouldn’t bump into the rock face, then helped the next child, then the next. Seven. Eight. Trinity frowned. Where was number nine?
“Who’s missing?” she grabbed the disappearing ankle of the last child in the line as she mentally reviewed the names of the children who’d passed. “Jax. Where’s Jax?”
The little boy shrugged. “He saw a trail.”
Trinity swore under her breath. Great. The too-curious kid was wandering into a battle zone. “Go on,” she muttered. “Get back to the others, and stick together in the great hall until your parents come and collect you, okay?”
The boy nodded, then started crawling again, and Trinity pushed against the boulder until it concealed the bolt-hole, then took off running up the path, her eyes scanning the undergrowth for signs of Jax’s trail. When she got her hands on that kid...
She spied a branch that was snapped but not fallen. It had caught on another branch, indicating the direction the boy had taken. She skidded a little as she changed direction, following the slight indentation in the loamy soil here, the break of a branch there, the gap in a bush further along. Her heart pounding, she jumped over fallen logs, ducked under branches, and sprinted along paths that weren’t really paths at all, merely vague impressions of a little boy’s passing. Little trails worn by smaller creatures through the forest that unfolded at the same breakneck pace she ran. She had a skill for spying tracks and trails, no matter how faint, how old, how unused—or how newly trodden by a five-year-old pup.
Birds screeched and flew overhead, and she almost tripped over a rabbit as it bounded across her path. Something was going on, something big. She tucked her elbows in against her sides, fingers straight and rigid as she pumped her legs faster. Trees whizzed past her in a blur. She catalogued each little sign of Jax’s trail, then skidded to a stop, her chest heaving, her eyes wide.
Jax stood on the tips of his toes by a tree, his hooded sweatshirt clutched by a tall, bearded lycan. The man wore only a pair of camouflage pants. No shirt, no shoes. He was streaked with dirt and blood, and his expression was fierce as he gazed back at her.
“Let him go,” she said, her voice low. Despite the panic, the fear, her words came out dead calm. She stepped closer, just once, and the man backed away, pulling Jax along with him. Anger flared inside her. Jax was a pup, damn it. A Woodland pup. Nobody threatened her pups.
The boy whimpered, his eyes round with fear.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she said in a soothing voice, although her gaze didn’t shift from the lycan. “You will not hurt him,” she said, her tone low and heavy with warning. If he so much as hurt a hair on Jax’s head, she would kill him. Or at least try to. Her skills weren’t in fighting. Her eyes narrowed. There was only one of him, and although he was big and obviously a warrior while she was neither, she was prepared to try and take him down, if only to give Jax an opportunity to escape.
“I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to release him,” she said, edging closer. The lycan narrowed his eyes.
“One,” she said slowly, then launched herself at him, using the element of surprise as an advantage.
A heavy body slammed into her side and she was caught in midair and knocked off target. She rolled in the dirt, trying to escape the weight, fists and feet lashing out, cursing herself for her mistake. He wasn’t alone. Flashes of tanned skin and white-blond hair made brief impressions as she tried to keep some momentum, to roll away. She heard a muffled oof as her fist connected with something firm and warm, then she grunted as her back was slammed against the dirt, and something hard, muscled and strong slammed against her front. Her wrists were grasped and shoved above her head, and she shook her hair out of her eyes as she glared at the shirtless lycan lying on top of her.
“Someone can’t count,” he commented drily, staring down at her, a grin sliding over his lips.
Blue eyes. She had blue eyes. Matthias stared down at the woman lying beneath him, the ring on his necklace a hard, unrelenting circle between them. He and Zane had barely retrieved their stash of spare clothing before they’d heard the boy thrashing through the bush, and now—well, now she was beneath him. His heart thundered from the fight, from the retreat, adrenaline pulsing through his body. Arousal, hot and heavy, flooded him instantly, his system already on high sensory alert.
“Get off me,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice low and husky. She glared up at him, and his heart stuttered, just for a moment. Those eyes, so dark, so stormy blue, yet with slivers of silver that caught and held his gaze. Her nose was narrow, her cheeks flushed, the bones of her cheeks and jaws so defined, her lips luscious. That voice, that breathy, sexy voice that curled and teased at his ears and hardened his arousal. He was bombarded with sensory information. And oh, hell, her scent.
He lowered his head into the cradle of her neck and inhaled, closing his eyes as her scent filled him, washed over him, aroused him. Wild honeysuckle, vanilla and something that was uniquely her, something that drove all sense and inhibition away, something that called to his beast, that had him slowly relaxing into her.
“Ge-get off me,” she said, although this time she didn’t sound half so ferocious. She tried to buck him off her, and he exhaled blissfully at the thrust of her body against his. He skimmed his nose up her neck, to the little indent behind her ear. She smelled like...home.
The word opened his eyes, and he paused. Home? He blinked, lifting his chest off her, but still pressing her into the ground with the weight of his lower body. Focus.
“You have a choice,” he murmured, then moaned as she tried to roll, to lift him off her with the strength of those legs he wanted wrapped around his waist. He relaxed, pressing his arousal into the valley between her legs, and her blue eyes widened as she felt his erection.
She swallowed, and he watched the movement of her throat, saw the flutter of the pulse in the indentation of her neck. Her cheeks flushed, and her scent changed, drifting into something darker, sexier, spicier. Arousal. It flowed between them, though by the shock in her eyes, it wasn’t exactly welcome.
“What?” her voice came out as a husky rasp.
“Take me to your den,” he said, and waited for her reaction.
Her chin lowered. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed up at him, taking in his hair, every feature of his face. He didn’t think she meant it, but the intensity with which she stared at him made each glance feel like a caress.
“Alpine?” she whispered, a growing awareness darkening her eyes.
He nodded. “Take me to your den.”
She shook her head, pine needles rustling beneath her. “No.”
He smiled. He liked that she wasn’t a pushover, that she was prepared to stand up to him. Hell, she’d been prepared to attack Zane, a lycan half a head taller than her and a good deal heavier. The thought reminded him of his friend, and he lifted his gaze.
Zane stood off to the side, one hand holding the hooded sweatshirt of the boy, the other hand