Chapter Ten
DANTE
Ifrantically dig through the bodies for any sign of the girl, searching for the scent of her blood, but I find nothing.
She can’t just be gone.
While I don’t have a lot of faith in people, the stubborn girl who conned her way into our house wouldn’t have run off in the middle of a fight.
She wouldn’t have just left us—I know it deep in my soul.
If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t give a shit.
Fuck them, I say, but Frankie is different.
She’s not allowed to leave yet, not until I uncover her secrets and discover what game she’s playing.
Garth doesn’t say anything as he turns the last body over, like she will be hiding under a corpse or something.
Not that I’m any better, combing through mangled body parts to see if any of them belonged to her.
Garth abruptly lifts his head in the air, his chest expanding as he inhales. I do the same, hoping to catch her scent, then I curse when I sense more wolves heading this way.
Fuck!
“We need to go.” I rake my bloody hands through my hair, the pain helping me block out the way my beast is throwing a temper tantrum, his ominous growl vibrating my bones. Normally, I struggle to pull him back when he’s consumed by bloodlust, only that didn’t happen this time.
No, it’s worse.
The moody bastard is kicking up a fuss that we would dare leave without the girl.
Garth doesn’t move or acknowledge me in any way, and I mutter obscenities under my breath at the stubborn ass.
Dragging him away when his beast is in charge is a near impossible task, especially if I want to keep all my limbs intact.
Last time, I was able to knock him out, but I don’t think he’ll fall for that twice.
Gearing myself up to take a beating, I take a step toward him. The second I move, he whips his head in my direction, and I freeze.
Only he’s not looking at me.
I shift to keep him in view, having learned from experience not to give him my back.
When I see what caught his attention, my eyebrows shoot up and my mouth drops open in shock.
The little girl is calmly leading a massive beast by a chain, seemingly unconcerned that he could rip her in half without blinking.
The beast—because there is no doubt that he’s a shifter—docilely follows her. Even chained, I won’t make the mistake of thinking he’s not dangerous. I could respect that, but something about the intense way the asshole gazes down at the girl raises my hackles.
I don’t give a fuck that he helped take out some of the wolves during the fight. There is no fucking doubt in my mind that he only did so because they were in his way.
It’s clear she was his target all along.
The thought of her being captured and dragged away in chains is like a kick to the balls.
My beast falls silent, a deadly rage threatening to send him bursting from my skin.
I shouldn’t give a fuck. Pretty women like her are trouble, just like I predicted when I first caught sight of her standing in my kitchen.
Oblivious to my chaotic thoughts, Frankie strolls past Garth and me, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She doesn’t take more than two steps before casually calling over her shoulder, “We need to leave before the others arrive.”
It doesn’t matter that I said the very same thing moments ago, minus the thought of leaving her behind. Yet this time, Garth doesn’t even pause before following her command, and my jaw clenches so tight that my teeth grind together.
I’m left standing in the field of bodies, my hands on my hips, watching her sashay away. A series of wolves bay into the cool night air, the pack so close, I can practically feel their paws pounding against the earth.
With a huff, I stomp after the others.
I’m the enforcer of the group.
It’s my job to protect everyone.
I’m unsure whether I’m more annoyed at her giving orders or the fact that she can take care of herself. I should be thrilled she doesn’t cry over a broken nail or a smear of blood on her shoe.
But if she can protect herself, then she doesn’t need me, and my beast doesn’t like that thought one bit.
When we round the house, I spy Tyler packing the car with our shit.
The familiar sight of the fox with his holsters and guns strapped to him is reassuring.
I spot five, which means he’s probably wearing twice that.
Besides a few bruises, he’s relatively unharmed, and the tension eases out of my spine.
I don’t give a shit about much these days, but the two men in my pack are the exception.
Not only have they earned my respect, but they also keep me sane…well, relatively sane.
I accepted a long time ago that reality is overrated.
When my eyes land on the girl, drawn to her once a-fucking-gain, I cock my head and narrow my eyes.
Something isn’t right.
Why take a prisoner?
Why not kill him?
It’s more efficient.
It’s not like she’s shy about killing. She didn’t even blink as she efficiently dispatched the others.
Bringing him with us is a liability, unless…
“You were going to leave without us.” I snarl the accusation, my beast bristling with the thought of her disappearing from our lives.
“Yes,” she answers, not even bothering to deny it.
Tyler jerks at the admission, like he’s been shot, every emotion draining from his expression. He picks up the last bag, shoving it into the trunk, not bothering to look up from the task.
Though he hides it, her admission hurt him.
He rarely allows anyone close, but she slipped under his radar.
I’m not sure I can forgive her for that.
If I weren’t so pissed, I could almost admire the balls on the girl for not even bothering to lie.
“You disappeared in the middle of the fight. You were just going to walk away and let us die.”
If anything happens to my pack because of whatever game she’s playing, I will hunt her down and take my own pound of flesh from her.
My accusation gets a reaction.
Her head whips in my direction, and an adorable snarl curls her lips that I would dare question her honor. “I was fighting this one.” She rattles the chains in her grip. “By the time I had him subdued, the fighting was over.”
My beast paces in my chest, restless as the wolves press closer. The need to get her to safety is almost enough for me to ignore my suspicions.
Almost.
“What changed your mind?” My breathing is ragged, my beast nearly feral at the thought of her vanishing. My instincts scream that if she disappears, we will never see her again, despite our superior abilities to track our prey.
The very thought is unpalatable.
Before she can speak, one, two—five wolves break through the tree line, howling when they catch sight of us and charging in our direction. I growl under my breath, a muscle ticking in my jaw at being denied answers.
Frankie glances at the wolves, then peers back at me with a raised brow. “We can either stay and gossip like a bunch of old biddies or pile in the car and leave—your choice.”
I’ll say one thing for the girl—she’s cool as a cucumber, unbothered by the thought of fighting for her life.
I almost want to stay to see her in action again, but the idea of her being in danger has my beast a slobbering, feral mess.
Curling my hands into fists to refrain from shifting, I barely feel my claws slice into my flesh, the tiny burst of pain only aggravating my beast more.
“In the car,” Garth barks, shoving Tyler into the back seat.
I could fight his order, but my beast is having none of my bullshit, forcing me to comply. When I near the vehicle, I pause by the door, then glance at Frankie over my shoulder and raise a challenging brow. “You joining us?”
She is sassy enough to roll her eyes before striding toward me with a distracting sway to her hips and dragging her captive behind her. She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she approaches. “Join you? Nah, it’s my car, beastie.”
I grunt at her point but don’t argue, pleased that she isn’t thinking about running anymore. Vicious snarls ripple through the air, three of the bigger shifters breaking away from the pack to stop us from leaving.
I reach for her arm, ready to shove her into the vehicle—only the minx adroitly evades my touch and places a length of chain in my waiting hand. “Get in the car. I’ll be right back.”
She doesn’t even wait as she spins on her heel and strides to meet the three wolves. I’m ready to toss the chains away and march after her when the prisoner speaks. “Don’t.” His voice is low and raspy, full of smoke and grit, like he doesn’t talk much. “Watch.”
The words are soft, just a whisper of breath, but I find myself obeying.
When Tyler crawls out of the car, I grab his shoulder to prevent him from following.
Frankie stands tall and proud, unflinching as the wolves close the distance between them quickly. When they’re seconds away from leaping and tearing out her throat, she calmly lifts her hand, palm out, and speaks one word. “Heel.”
Energy crackles in the air, the power similar to lightning right before it strikes. The wolves skid to a stop, digging up dirt and grass, one even tumbling ass over teakettle before landing in a sprawl at her feet.
All three wolves then drop to their bellies and whine.
None of them tries to fight the order.
In the distance, the other wolves slow and pace back and forth in confusion, like they’ve run into a ward.
I lift my hand, and I swear static crackles against my fingers at the power radiating in the air. It’s not merely an alpha command, but something more. I’m still trying to figure it out when Frankie turns on her heel, calmly walks back toward the car, and snatches the chain from my limp hand.
She shoves the man into the passenger seat, then follows, claiming the spot behind the wheel.
The engine turns over with a rumble. As she reaches to close the door, she glances impatiently in my direction. “Are you coming or not?”
Yeah, I’m coming, I mentally grouse, slipping silently into the back seat with Garth and Tyler. The roomy space immediately shrinks with our bulk.
As we drive down the road, more and more wolves stand along the edges, calmly watching our departure.
None of them attack.
It’s an ominous sight that raises the hair on the back of my neck.
She must have grabbed hold of the pack link and sent the order to everyone. I’m not sure how it’s possible, even the alpha of the pack would struggle to control so many, but she did it without breaking a sweat.
It’s creepy as fuck…and impressive.
I can’t take my eyes off the girl, more fascinated by her than ever.
Logically, I should be repulsed at the thought of her pulling that bullshit on me.
In other circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to reach forward and rip out her throat.
No one should have that much power over another.
Instead, my beast is practically purring in my chest, rolling over like a kitten and presenting his stomach for her to pet.
It’s control—absolute control.
And I want it.
If I can learn how she was able to exert such dominance, I would never have to live in fear again.
No more running, no more being hunted.
We could become a real pack.
The temptation is impossible to resist.
Unfortunately, the only way to gain access to that kind of ability is by either accepting her as my alpha…or claiming her as my mate. My beast prances around in excitement at the prospect of taming her, and a grin spreads across my face at the challenge.