Chapter 12
Mouth dripping with decadent blood, Daemon eased back from the woman he’d just bitten and licked his lips.
Fuck, she tasted good. Too good! He wanted to taste all of her, and now that she bore his mark it was his right.
Chest rattling a satisfied rumble, he was floating in a cloudy haze of lust and possessiveness.
Hanging just on the periphery was some small awareness that he was supposed to acknowledge, but Demon wouldn’t permit it to push through.
Demon was as close to taking over as he could be without forcing an all-out shift to their animal form, and Daemon didn’t care because they were drunk on the female in front of them.
Ours! Demon hissed. Inhaling the female’s scent, Daemon was just as pleased as his wolf. “Ours!” Daemon agreed aloud.
Behind him, he heard Thrall bellow, “Jesus fucking Christ!”
Turning just his head, he gave Thrall a moment's worth of attention. Maybe that’s what he was supposed to be paying attention to. Maybe he was supposed to remember to make sure that Thrall didn’t perish under the pile of Enforcers Daemon had left for him.
Eyes taking in the scene, Daemon smirked at Thrall stepping over crumpled bodies and making his way toward Daemon with an intense look of fury on his face.
Normally, it’d be funny, but Demon wasn’t having it.
Rearing up, the wolf lunged for the surface, and Daemon was barely able to hold him back.
Demon didn’t want Thrall or any male near their female.
Thrall froze in place and held up his hands, brows spearing down in irritation as he snarled, “Are you fucking retarded?”
That had the growl rattling Daemon’s chest, transitioning from one of pleasure to one of warning.
“You can’t just mark her, D. She’s not open for the taking. That’s not why we’re fucking here! You can’t just claim her as one of ours!”
No! Daemon agreed silently. She’s not ours. Aloud, he snarled, “Mine!”
With an eye roll, Thrall threw his hands up.
“You just claimed a Biter. You get that right? A Biter. An enemy!” Leaning to the side, he eyed the woman up and down.
“Man, she fucking looks like Jury. It’s probably her sister!
” Thrall raged, “You think Koe’s gonna be okay with you claiming Jury’s sister like this?
Without protocol, without asking,” he gestured toward the silent woman, “without her goddamn consent?” Lifting both hands to fist his hair, Thrall leaned forward to shake his head at Daemon, “You’ve seen the way he fucking looks at Jury, right?
” Dropping his hands, he started pacing, “I mean I’m not blind…
am I?” He stopped to shoot Daemon a look.
“You have to have seen the way he looks at her.”
Daemon was watching Thrall curiously. It was hard to follow the flow of words coming from his mouth because Demon was still mostly in control. Plus, he honestly didn’t give a shit about anything Thrall was saying. He’d stopped listening the second Thrall had called them retarded.
Rude!
Annoyed that Thrall was still talking, Demon was contemplating throat punching him when a scent hit him that had Demon instantly tensing before he immediately released the reins of control to Daemon and recoiled as fast as he could.
Tensing hard, Daemon’s senses went on high alert the moment Demon recoiled. Demon had never retreated…not ever! For him to do so as quickly as he just did had Daemon’s stomach clenching as an unknown emotion seized him. Was he actually experiencing fear?
What the fuck?!
Jerking a hand up, palm side out, he held it in Thrall’s face so that the fucker would shut the hell up and let Daemon focus.
All senses going on high alert, Daemon turned slowly.
There were no sounds of more enemies approaching, and the shifters they’d just fought were still on the ground.
Inhaling, Daemon froze once he discovered the scent that had scared Demon off.
The second he realized what it was, his eyes landed on the small female they’d just marked.
She was standing with her arms wrapped around herself defensively, chin tucked low, with her neck wound bleeding onto the collar of her shirt.
But it wasn’t the scent of her blood that had chased Demon off. It was the scent of her tears.
Ffffffffuck!
Unsure what to do or say, Daemon reached for the woman only to jerk his hands back. Thrall had just said something about consent.
Consent? Right!
He was supposed to have asked.
Do I do it now?
Confused, he turned and looked to Thrall for guidance, but Thrall was just standing there with his hands planted on his hips, face all red, glaring at Daemon as he raged something about, “Why the fuck did I even agree to bring you? I fucking knew better! Why didn’t I bring blah, blah, blah!”
Turning his attention back to the woman, Daemon stared at her as his heart raced in his chest like a jackrabbit avoiding Demon.
Sorry didn’t seem to cover what he’d done, soooo…
Gently, Daemon reached for the woman and lifted her up to cradle her in his arms. He forced himself to be extra tender when she gasped.
Unsure what to do now, he started rocking from foot to foot and inwardly raged at Demon to do something to help.
Demon’s solution was to emit a noise that had never come from Daemon in his entire existence.
From behind him, Thrall gaped at Daemon before demanding, “Are you fucking… purring?”
It wasn’t a true purr; wolves lacked the specialized anatomy to make the sound. This was more of a contented rumbling sound. An attempt to comfort the female. And while he’d never made the noise before—honestly, he hadn’t thought he knew how to—he’d heard that it worked to make mates feel safe.
Inhaling, the scent of tears was still strong, so he rumbled a quiet, “I’m…
I’m Daemon. Daemon Knight. Lead Enforcer of the Allegiance Pack under Alpha Koe Ontiveros.
” Pinching his eyes closed, he silently prayed as he begged, “Please tell me you’re not Jury’s sister, Narae.
” He knew he’d fucked up marking her the way he had, and Thrall was right.
They’d been sent to start a war with an eventual plot to rescue Narae, and if he’d just claimed her, on sight, without her consent, Koe would want a pound of flesh, and he’d be justified in the asking.
Eyes opening, Daemon looked down at the small female who refused to look up at him. “Are you Narae Warmont?”