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Authors: Stacey Brutger

Tags: #paranormal romance, #Fiction, #Romance, #Brutger, #stacey brutger, #Shayla, #www.staceybrutger.com, #Shifters, #Adventure, #action adventure, #alpha, #Frost World, #Paranormal, #Magic, #Fantasy fiction, #werewolves, #Witches, #Aiden, #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #forbidden love, #Wolves, #pack

Coveted (4 page)

BOOK: Coveted
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Familiar male voices.

Fear shredded the
last of his composure, and he surged toward the bars. He gripped the metal,
uncaring when his flesh sizzled, how the skin of his palms slowly tightened and
then cracked. “Run!”

She gazed at him, not
as afraid as she should be. “There is nowhere to run. I can’t go back the way I
came.”

Footsteps scuffled toward
them. The stench of their bodies swept through the tunnels, and his wolf
pressed forward beneath his skin, desperate to defend the woman.

“There is another way
out, but you must hide right now. If they discover you here, they’ll kill you.”

Her brows furrowed, and
the look might have been cute if he weren’t so terrified for her safety. He
wanted to keep her close. She was his last chance at freedom. At least that’s the
only explanation he had for primitive way he responded to the idea of her in
danger.

He peered down the
tunnel, conscious of time ticking away. When he turned back, she was gone.

Profound loss carved
his chest out, the force of it enough to break the last hold he had on his
sanity.

He shuddered at the
thought that he’d imagined the whole thing.

Then he heard her
voice.

“If you want to keep
me a secret, I suggest you turn off my phone and hide it. I’ll need it to get
out of here.”

He stared stupidly at
the piece of pink plastic he still clutched, then swore. He just managed to
shove the phone into the waistband of his pants when the lights from his
visitors bounced off the walls.

Conflicting signals muddled
his mind. The warrior in him wanted to strut in front of her. The ancient practice
of attracting a mate by showing his prowess might have been lost through the
years, but the customs had been ingrained in him since his birth over two
hundred years ago. Conversely, the human side of him wanted to hide his
abilities for fear she might run.

Both sides were
desperate to do whatever it took to keep her close. The reactions were so
strong, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself from following her around like
a lost puppy.

His limbs trembled
with fatigue, and he gritted his teeth against the need to rest. He couldn’t
crash now, not when more than his life hung in the balance.

“I don’t see why we
have to come down here tonight. The full moon will be here in two days. He
won’t be able to hold out then.”

The nasally whine
annoyed the piss out of Aiden, and his claws punched through the tips of his
fingers, eager to rip into the man’s throat. He ignored the truth in the taunts,
pitifully pleased that they were vague enough not to frighten his little
goddess out of her hiding place.

The one they called
Hugh tossed scraps of some animal they’d scavenged from road kill just outside
his cell. Aiden locked his knees to stop himself from dropping to his knees and
gorging on the rotten food. The swirling current quickly swept it away, and the
big one laughed, his pot belly jiggling.

Whiskey fumes exploded
from him in waves strong enough to intoxicate the person standing next to him
as well.

Hugh might be stupid,
but one didn’t tug on the tail of the lion without consequences. He liked to
feel important. Beating up kids and women had fulfilled that need until Jacob
hired him. 

“Come on, Jacob,
let’s get out of this shit hole.”

Aiden didn’t dare
allow himself to relax. Jacob took pleasure in the torture, studying how long
he could push and still keep his prey alive. He wouldn’t forgo it on a whim.

“Fine, leave. I’ll
follow in a bit.” Jacob was the taller of the two, his lean frame tightly
controlled, his cold eyes calculating.

Neither of them saw Aiden
as human, not that it would have stopped them. To get what they wanted, they
would’ve killed him just the same.  

“Sure, but I gotta
take a piss first.” Hugh turned and fumbled with his pants.

A moue of distaste
curled Jacob’s mouth. He turned his back and ignored the other man. “You don’t
have to die. The offer is still on the table. Just give us what we want.”

The key to Aiden’s cell
dangled from a cord around the man’s neck.

Taunting him.

The bastard knew and
did it on purpose.

“No.” It was the same
question every night. Their offer was a lie. If he gave consent, he would wind
up chained in his wolf form and bled dry for the rest of his very short,
miserable life. 

Tonight was
different. His eyes skimmed the key, but his obsession had broken, and he
quickly turned his attention to Hugh.

Tension held Aiden
stiff as impotent rage consumed him. For the first time since he’d been
captured, Aiden prayed.

Don’t move, baby.

“What the—”

A piece of wood swung
out of the darkness, cracking Hugh across the temple. The rotten wood exploded
in a spray of splinters. Hugh, overweight by a good thirty pounds, his pants
still open, staggered backwards, but didn’t go down.

“What the hell are
you doing, Hugh?”

Blood poured into the
man’s eyes, and a nasty cut gaped open over his brow. He turned at the sound of
his name, and stumbled a little too close to Aiden’s cell.

Desperate not to lose
this chance, Aiden lunged forward and snatched up the rotund man through the
bars. The movement dislodged Shayla’s phone, and it landed with a plop, before
disappearing into the murky water. Then there was no more time to think. He looped
his arm around Hugh’s neck, pulling until the man was crushed against the bars.
Bones should’ve snapped like matchsticks, would have if Aiden had been at his
full strength. Now he was just too weak.

“Jacob, he’s got me.
Shoot him,” Hugh shrieked.

Jacob ignored his
lackey, squinting in Shayla’s direction as if he could see her despite the lack
of light. When he turned and lifted the cattle prod from the wall, there was a
peculiar gleam in his eyes, something malicious.

Out of time.

The man would kill
Shayla and enjoy it.

Aiden couldn’t allow
that to happen.

If he received a jolt
of electricity, they’d take him down and leave her vulnerable. To know that
she’d died because of him shriveled the last bit of his humanity. Aiden heaved
backwards, using his weight, ignoring the Hugh’s frantic scratching at his arm.

“Hey, dickhead.” The
woman flew out of the shadows, landing on Jacob’s back and clung to him like a tenacious
monkey. Jacob lurched forward, the momentum nearly catapulting her over his
shoulder.

Aiden went ballistic.
His teeth lengthened, fur burst out along his arms. He said a silent plea that
the darkness was thick enough to conceal the changes and tightened his hold. Hugh
squealed like a girl, but Aiden couldn’t take his attention away from the
fight.

Jacob reached up, grabbed
the back of her shirt, and tossed her into the water. Instead of giving up, the
woman rolled to her feet. Then he couldn’t see her anymore as Jacob stalked down
the hall. He was controlled, took pleasure in the hunt, like the lord of the
castle.

The man was twice her
weight.

One blow and he’d
crush her.

But he would be
careful, hurt her just enough to prolong the torture.

Aiden growled in fury,
relishing in the satisfying crunch of bones when Hugh’s neck finally snapped.
He let the body drop and rushed toward the edge of his prion in time to see his
woman being slammed up against the wall.

She slid down the rough
stones like a limp rag. Aiden could do nothing but watch, helplessness threatening
to choke him as she ineffectually slapped at Jacob’s chest. Then she turned
defiantly toward him, steely determination etched on her face.

“Catch.”

Aiden nearly missed
her toss.

Cold metal smacked
his palms.

When he opened his
fingers, he couldn’t believe what he saw.

The key.

Damned foolish woman.
Admiration for the female flared through him. With shaky fingers, he put the key
in the lock. “Hit her again, bastard, and I’ll rip your spine from your body
and beat you with it.”

Jacob held the woman
off the ground, her feet swinging, unable to land any solid blows with her
sneakers. Jacob cocked back his arm, his fist ready to land a crushing blow
when he turned and saw Aiden with the key.

He blanched, then his
gaze dropping to his partner. The man was nearly submerged, his eyes forever
open and staring at nothing.

“You little bitch,
you did this.” Jacob slammed her against the wall hard enough to make her to go
limp, then tossed her still body into the water.

Aiden roared, his
beast vibrating with rage, the tortured sound reverberating down the tunnel.

Jacob strode toward
the exit, only a slight rush to his steps, leaving his fallen friend behind.
But he’d grown careless, believed himself invincible, and didn’t watch his
steps.

An inch, but that was
all that Aiden needed

He lunged.

His claws scored across
the right side of Jacob’s face.

Four long welts
appeared from temple to lips, marring the perfect visage. Jacob flailed
backwards and covered the wounds with his hand. Bright red blood gushed between
his fingers.

Vindictive pleasure
surged through Aiden at knowing he’d permanently disfigured the bastard.

Murder darkened Jacob’s
eyes. Aiden braced himself for an attack, when reason slowly returned to the
other man. Jacob narrowed his eyes, malice giving them a certain gleam, before
he turned and ran. “This isn’t over.”

Aiden fumbled with
the key. With one last twist, the door to his cell creaked open, and Aiden
inhaled reflexively.

Freedom had never
tasted so sweet.

He watched the man
disappear into the shadows then turned to see the woman who’d saved him being
swept away by the current. A growl rumbled in his chest.

Vengeance urged him
to go after his captor, but he couldn’t let her die, not after what she’d
risked to save him. And if he lost her, his best chance at rescuing the rest of
his people would go with her.

“Damn it all to
hell.”

He turned away from
the entrance and sloshed after the woman. The excitement had worn him down,
each step physically exhausting.

He heard her sputter,
spotted her fighting to catch her breath, and he increased his speed. The woman
struggled for purchase, but the current was swifter here, drawing her
inexorably away from him.

Then he saw where she
was heading.

The old aqueduct tunnels
expelled waste from the castle, dropping the water some thirty feet below into
the ocean. If she managed to survive the ride, the fall would kill her. He ran
and leapt the distance between them. He landed on his stomach in the water, his
hands brushing against hers before clamping his fingers around her wrists.

The heat of her silky
skin almost burned. Her touch was like a spark, it snaked under his skin,
bringing things into sharper focus. He wanted more and clutched her close,
afraid that it he lost her, it would all prove to be a horrible lie and he’d
wake up back in his cell.

The water swept them
away too fast for him to stop their descent. He tucked her slight body against
his larger frame, cushioning her against the harsh stones. She was so delicate
he feared his harsh grip would break her, but refused to loosen his hold.
Already, he could feel the water trying to tug her away from him. They entered
the tunnel at an alarming speed. If he hadn’t lost weight, he never would’ve
fit.

Stones scraped
against his back and sides. His elbow lost a chunk of skin when it hit some sharp
rocks. Blood blossomed in the air as his skin was scraped away, his clothes no
barrier to the harsh abrasions. When she burrowed her face into his shoulder, he
tucked his head lower and clutched her closer, sheltering her petite form as
much as possible without smothering her.

The fresh scent of
tangy citrus and sea rose from her, and his beast wanted to rub it all over and
revel in it. The floors dropped, the sharp angle making them pick up speed, and
his arms tightened possessively.

Then they were
flying.

The woman gave a startled
squeak, flailing as the world dropped away and they plummeted toward the sea.

It took everything he
had to maintain his hold on her.

Even in the dark, he saw
the churning water rapidly approach.

“Tuck yourself up tight.
Take a deep breath. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

Then they plunged beneath
the surface.

The brutal impact
tore the woman from his arms despite his desperate bid to keep her close. Air
was knocked from his lungs. His limbs grew heavy. The cold snaked around him as
the frigid grip of the sea dragging him deeper and deeper.

His temple struck the
craggy rocks, the pain stealing the last of his breath. He sank, struggling
against the lure to finally be able to rest. Impotent fury roared through him that
his body had failed him just when he’d finally gained his freedom.

He refused to die,
drowned like some unwanted pup. He had to snap out of it and find the woman.
She wasn’t strong enough to withstand the rip tide. The heat of her imprint
still tingled where they’d touched, as if she belonged in his arms. The need to
get his hands on her again curled through his gut. He couldn’t let her die, not
when he’d just found her.

 

 

 Chapter Four

 

S
hayla concentrated on finding
the surface and shot up through the water. As she broke topside, she gasped for
air, her chest rattling as she inhaled. She treaded water, the strap of her bag
nearly strangling her, and she clutched the last of her belongings like a
lifeline. A large wave smacked into her hard enough to send her tumbling. She clawed
her way back to the surface, bobbed in the water, and waited for the dark head
of her savior to appear.

And waited.

Night had fallen. The
rain had slackened to a cold drizzle. The tide tugged her inexorably toward a
collection of jagged rocks surrounding the cliff.

Away from her would-be
rescuer.

The water smashed
into the stone with stunning force, hard enough to break her into pieces. High
above her, water blasted out of the tunnel before crashing into the ocean. The
frothy water churned like some hungry creature searching for prey.

They were lucky to be
alive.

The side of her face
throbbed, her back was so bruised that each breath caused her ribs to ache. If
she pushed herself, she might be able to reach the shore.

Barely.

But not if she
lingered much longer.

Shayla slapped the
water at the impossible decision.

If she left, he was
dead.

If she stayed, her
chances for survival were drastically reduced.

She remembered the
way he turned his back on the man who’d imprisoned him in order to save her. The
way he cradled her in his warm embrace, protecting her from hurt until they
were dragged further and further from the surface. With one last touch of her
skin, the man had relinquished his hold.

To save her.

Not willing to give
up on him so easily, Shayla closed her eyes and sank below the surface. The
storm faded to a peaceful silence below the waves. Water swirled around her,
pulling and tugging, and she drew on what her grandfather called her faerie
magic.

A warm glow came to
her like a small flame on a candle. That’s usually as far as she went. To
search for people, she had to crack open the door between the worlds. The Frost
World was inhabited by the dead, and they didn’t take kindly to intruders,
reminders of the living.

They nearly killed
her the last time.

No wraiths or
vengeful ghosts would be lurking about in the middle of the sea, waiting to
ambush her, or so she tried to reassure herself. Not all were vicious, but the
violent ones gravitated toward her, as though they sensed she was the key to
their release. A spirit’s touch burned on contact. Their lightest contact left
bruises that she would wear for days.

And those weren’t the
only problems. The longer she lingered in the other world, the more
repercussions she’d suffer, so she had to do this fast.

Taking the gamble,
Shayla concentrated her rescuer. The connection snapped together quickly. The
water temperature dropped dramatically, her gift consuming the warmth from
around her, needing the heat to fuel her search. The chill of the sea burned
her skin raw, while her insides hoarded the heat like a greedy miser.

Her body stiffened as
she swam, her lungs constricting painfully while her blood slowly overheated.

Darkness pressed in
around her from every direction, and she concentrated on feeding the spark. The
sea grew dim. The flickering glow of the flame burst into an inferno, spilling
into the underwater world around her. Shapes began to take form as anything
living or burdened with a soul reflected the light. Her head throbbed as she
used a part of her brain that normally remained dormant.

At first she saw
nothing but sea life, fish large and small like brilliant stars against the
backdrop. Then her caveman’s body blazed like the sun some fifteen feet below
her.

And sinking fast.

With a kick, Shayla
pushed lower, more than a little unnerved to be virtually blind in the sea with
lord knows how many hungry creatures swimming just out of sight. Her lungs
protested the lack of oxygen.

She was so close.

Only when her fingers
snagged fabric did she stop swimming. She dropped out of the Frost World, but
the damage had been done. Her head pounded with a relentless thud. Her eyes
burned, phantom shapes flickering in her vision. She could deal with them. They
weren’t the real problem.

Her caveman was a
dead weight, dragging them both further down into the murky, icy-cold depths.

She kicked. Muscles
protested the abuse. The burn in her body lessened as the breath-stealing chill
of the sea seeped into her pores. Her fingers cramped as she struggled to maintain
her grip on her savior.

When she glanced
around, everything looked the same. It was impossible to tell which way was up.
Panic tightened her throat, and a bubble of air escaped. She watched the small
circle trail through the water.

Toward the surface.

Shayla quickly
followed. She swallowed repeatedly, fighting the instinctive need to inhale,
fighting to prevent water from invading her nose and mouth.

Her lungs strained.

Demanded air.

Her concentration
broke when the corpse of the man she’d cracked over the head plunged into the
water just feet away. Entombed inside the shell of his body, his soul screamed
in silent terror, struggling to be free of the flesh imprisoning him while he
was slowly pulled toward hell.

She jerked back,
terrified he’d reach out and haul her down with him. His clouded eyes gazed
beseechingly at her. One touch from her would free his soul, but it would also
set off a craving in him for the life that he’d lost. He’d cannibalize her,
absorb all the warmth she’d hoarded, just for the illusion of living for a few
more hours. She could fight him off but not rescue her caveman at the same time.

Shayla resolutely
turned her back and swam, thanking the faeries that his recent death kept him trapped
inside his body. It was only a matter of time before he figured out how to
escape his rotting corpse, and she wanted to be long gone by then.

Her lungs strained,
and she couldn’t hold back as her body reflexively gasped for breath. Saltwater
stung as it hit the back of her throat seconds before she broke the surface.

Shayla coughed until
her throat ached with each breath. Minutes passed as she struggled to remain
afloat and keep her savior’s head above water.

Knowing that no one
would be out searching for them, that she had to rescue herself if she wanted
to survive, she angled them away from the rocks and kicked toward shore. After
ten minutes, she stopped searching for the coastline and just concentrated on
staying afloat.

A large wave smacked
her in the face, dragging them under for a few seconds. Using the last of her
strength, she managed one last push upward.

The man exploded into
action, fighting against her, shoving her under again. A blow landed on her
already aching ribs, and she automatically inhaled water.

Then she was being hauled
to the surface.

She didn’t have
enough energy to spare to even glare at him. Her arms felt laden. It hurt to
even move. “I swear, if you drown me, I’ll come back to haunt you.”

And she’d find a way
to do it, too.

The man stared at
her, incredulous. “You saved me.”

Shayla rolled her
eyes. “No, the mermaids did.”

She shifted to her
back, battling to stay afloat, and allowed the tide to draw her toward shore.
The man struggled silently at her side, but she was too tired to help. By the
time the waves tossed them onto the sandy beach, she didn’t have the energy to
do anything but balance on her hands and knees. Agony throbbed through her. Breathing
was a chore as she struggled for air. Her throat was raw, her body battered and
bruised, and her head pounded relentlessly from the use of her gift.

The frigid air stole
the last of her warmth. They had to get out of the water. Shayla groaned at the
thought of moving, then forced herself to stand. Her legs trembled like a young
colt’s, and she staggered toward her much too silent companion.

“We have to get away
from the shore. We need shelter.”

The man lifted his head.
Blood dripped from his face, pooling in the sand. Unfocused eyes settled on her.

He didn’t move.

Stooping, Shayla draped
his arm over her shoulder and tried to drag him to his feet. Despite being skin
and bones, the man weighed a ton. She couldn’t budge him.

Urgency rocketed
through her. “Get up, damn you. I didn’t save your ass just for you to die here.”

On her second heave,
he lumbered to his feet. Whatever little color he’d gained quickly drained from
his face, and he nearly crushed her when he stumbled. It took two tries to find
the right balance for them to walk without crippling each other. “That’s it.
Now we just need to find shelter.”

Dogs bayed in the
distance, and the man stiffened.

Shayla heaved a sigh
of resignation. She and luck had never been close friends. “I suppose it is too
much to hope that it’s a rescue party.”

Piercing green eyes
landed on her before he very deliberately set her away from him. “You should
run. They’ll be after me. I’ll hold them off as long as possible.”

Shayla could only gape
at the idiot, noticing his accent had thickened to a deep brogue. “And how long
do you think you’ll last?”

Ignoring the way he
stiffened, she wrapped her arm around his waist again. Solid muscle greeted her
touch, and she marveled at the heat of him. He was like a furnace, and she
wanted nothing more than to cuddle right up and try to get feeling back into
her skin. To get her mind off the feel of him, she sized up their situation.

Towering cliffs
blocked their exit.

They were trapped on
the beach.

“At least it’s
stopped raining.”

The caveman grunted.
“Easier to scent us now.”

Shayla wanted to drop
the big lout on his backside, but he only spoke the truth. The wind howled,
flinging their scent directly toward the beasts. She tightened her grip around
him and increased their speed. A glance behind them revealed a yawning darkness
waiting to devour them.

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