Savage Urges

“I could be wrong,” said Makenna. “But I don’t think these humans like me very much. Not that I’m complaining, but what brought you here?”

“The extremists attracted a news crew. I saw them on TV outside your building.” And Ryan had almost lost his fucking shit. “You didn’t answer my calls.” That was when he had lost his fucking shit. Panic had seized his body, taken over his mind, and sent his wolf insane. His pack had managed to calm him just enough to instill some rationality into him. But now, as it became obvious just how much danger Makenna had been in, the rationality began to slip away.

Makenna inwardly winced at his words. She’d forgotten to take her phone off “silent” mode when she woke up. Even so . . . “I was a little busy here with Jeff and his buddies.”

“I wonder if these little photos will feature on the news,” said Jaime. That was when Makenna noticed she had her cell phone out, snapping pictures of the net, the knife, and the humans.

“I remember when Derren once uploaded a video of violent extremists on YouTube,” said Roni. “It upset a lot of shifters.”

Dante nodded. “Those humans had to disappear for a while. Come to think of it, I don’t think they ever reappeared.”

Ryan growled as he smelled something. Blood. Makenna’s blood. “Where are you hurt, Kenna?” The words came out sharp and clipped.

“It’s just a gash on my thigh. It’s almost healing.” She watched Ryan take slow, deliberate, predatory steps as he moved to stand in front of Jeff, his eyes cold, hard, and menacing. Ryan always looked unnerving. Right now, he looked downright terrifying.

“Was it you that made her bleed?” Ryan asked Jeff.

Makenna shivered. Ryan’s normally bland voice vibrated with the need to hurt.

Jeff sneered. “Our Lord protects us. Your kind can do us no harm.” His words were confident. His tone wasn’t.

“Wrong,” rumbled Ryan, edging into Jeff’s personal space. The human stank of corruption, hatred, and a little bit of fear. “Very, very wrong.”

“If you know about shifters,” began Marcus, “you know how protective we are of our mates. You know we’ll die for them, kill for them. That guy right there wearing the glower from hell . . . he’s the mate of the female you targeted. I wouldn’t like to be any of you right now.”

Makenna started at that. Clearly Ryan had shared his belief with his pack mates, her wishes be damned.

“When the members of The Movement see you on the news and look at our photos, they won’t be happy bunnies either.” Dominic shook his head. He was referring to a band of shifters that protected their kind from the extremists. Not at all subtle or diplomatic, The Movement returned violence with violence—conveying that there would be repercussions for such prejudice and unprovoked attacks. That was most likely why the humans here all blanched.

“Yep,” agreed Tao. “The Movement will match a name to every face, will find every one of you. I’d say ‘God help you and your families,’ but not a thing will save you from them.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Ryan growled at Jeff. “Was it you who made her bleed?” He barely sounded human. In truth, he didn’t feel all that human either. With the exception of his time in captivity, Ryan never lost control; he never snapped, and he never lashed out. One thing he never, ever did was show his pain. He was always calm and controlled in emotionally intense situations. Emotions got in the way. But this was Makenna, and that made everything different.

She’d once asked him if she mattered to him—not as his mate, but as Makenna. At the time, he hadn’t properly understood the distinction she was trying to make. Now he knew. It was one thing to panic because your mate was in danger and a whole other thing to panic because that person was so important that losing them would fucking destroy you.

“Yes,” hissed Jeff. “I stabbed her. The sound the knife made as it sliced through her skin was—”

As Ryan’s claws sliced out, his eyes glowing with anticipation, Makenna burst out, “Ryan, no! He’s lying. He wants you to hurt him.”

“I’ll give him what he wants.” With absolute fucking pleasure.

“Ryan, look at him. I mean really look at him. He’s smiling. He’s a freak who believes in ‘his cause’ that all shifters are evil and can’t be allowed to live. He will happily die right here at your hands if it means it supports his argument that we’re violent and dangerous. Don’t give him what he wants. This is about more than just me, Ryan. More than about you. It’s about our kind.”

Maybe so, but that didn’t matter to Ryan right then. The consequences didn’t matter. Only she did. Only that she was hurt and could have been taken from him. Adrenalin and rage were pumping through his system, feeding his need for vengeance. The scent of her blood, the sight of the net, and the thought that he could have been too late—all those things were taunting him. He could hear pounding in his ears, his muscles were so tight they hurt, and his jaw ached from clenching his teeth so hard.

“She’s right, Ryan.” Dominic exhaled a disappointed sigh. “We can’t kill him yet.”

“I say we give him to Ally’s friend.” Roni was talking about Ally’s foster brother, Cain, who was a member of The Movement.

“Good idea,” said Trick. “Jeff here is a leader. He’ll know a lot of important things, a lot of names.”