CHAPTER TWO
– AZALEA –
“Look at those sexy legs,” one of the two werewolves I just passed whispers to the other. “I wonder what time they open.”
I hear him grunt and don’t have to look over my shoulder to know the other werewolf punched him. Horny dogs with only one damn thing on their mind. I round the corner and with my next step I slip into stealth mode and become invisible.
Retracing my steps, I follow the werewolves.
Listening to them chat for a few minutes verifies who the asshole was that made the comment.
Shoving my feet off the ground, I jump into the air and feel my wings sprout out of my back.
Spreading them to catch wind, I bring myself higher into the air and wait for the perfect moment.
The perfect moment being the time when those two werewolves pass the building so I can break off the head of a statue on the rooftop and make it drop on the asshole’s head. One breath, another, and then it’s the perfect time. One snap, and I’m smiling.
The werewolf glances up and is too late to act.
The head of the statue hits him in the face and he crumbles to the ground.
Sadly, it won’t kill him. Nor will he learn his lesson because I can’t expose myself to take credit for it.
This is not the first time I’ve taken revenge on one of my father’s security guys.
Werewolves are assholes in general, but my father is a man with many enemies.
Which is why there’s a pack of werewolves handling security.
Their scent and strength make them perfect guard dogs.
Not quite as good as a hellhound, though.
They are definitely in a league of their own.
Something my father has desired to add to his staff for quite some time now.
I’ve only read a few things about hellhounds. Not much to be found about those supernaturals in the massive library my father owns. My sisters and I are homeschooled and reading about different supernatural beings was one of the classes I enjoyed.
My father has his reasons for his obsession with hellhounds, I guess.
Yet, I haven’t been able to figure out why.
My gaze lands on a motorcycle and I wander over.
Letting my fingers glide over the saddle, I start to wonder what it would be like to ride it.
I inhale deeply and the scent of the owner puts me on edge.
My heart skips a beat, my eyes go wide, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I whip my head around, suddenly on full alert. The strange sensation is unsettling. I’ve never felt a reaction of my body this strongly to a mere scent.
The wind shifts and the mouthwatering scent becomes more prominent, triggering every damn cell in my body. It creates an intense need, a longing, a desire to fill a void. I glance in the direction it’s coming from and watch a huge, muscled man stomp out of my home.
Quickly, I turn away from the motorcycle and come to a stop a few feet away. Stupid, because I’m invisible. On the other hand, I don’t trust myself around the person who brings out such strong and new feelings inside me.
He straddles the motorcycle and whips his head in my direction. He’s staring right at me as he inhales. I watch his blue eyes turn a deep red through a swirl of liquid fire. Shit. This is the hellhound my father wanted to trap into marrying my sister, Alora.
I glance at my watch and notice the time. The corner of my mouth twitches. The hellhound is within the forty-eight hour timeframe my father gave him to find the golden coins that were stolen by our former butler.
A grin slides across my face. My sister isn’t going to like losing husband material.
She’s a real bitch, and with her anger issues?
No way I’m going into the house. Alora is vicious.
Hell, we’re furies, all three of us are vicious.
Though, Alora is unreasonable and only likes herself.
Everyone else she considers insignificant.
I’m the youngest of the three of us. Annetta, the middle sister, is all about revenge.
Alora is all about anger. Me? I’m the jealous type.
We each react to these traits and it fuels our powers.
Right now, jealousy is running hot through my veins when my sister rushes out of the house and watches the biker ride off.
My fingers curl into fists and I narrow my eyes. She’d better not follow him, or I will rip her head right off. I gasp at my own train of thought. Did I really just imply I’d kill my own sister?
Damn. I might not care much about my family since they don’t give a shit about me, other than I’m part of three furies who my father needs to channel a united power. Still, I’ve never considered or so much as thought about hurting one of my sisters.
Alora huffs out a scream of frustration, spins around, and disappears back into the house.
Without thinking I jump into the air, spread my wings, and start to follow the biker.
It’s a long flight, but watching him skillfully handle the motorcycle is soothing.
He parks his machine in front of a large building.
I keep my distance and watch the door open, two females come out wearing skimpy clothes.
Both have long and curly blonde hair, with tight red tops, making their breasts almost spill out.
“Hey, Karev,” one of them says and the other gives a finger wave to grab the hellhound’s attention.
I grit my teeth, not liking the attention these women give him.
“Ladies,” the hellhound rumbles and merely nods in their direction as he gets off his bike.
Jealousy starts to rise inside me.
“Will you still be here later? I’d love to suck your cock,” the one who greeted him says, and she fucking touches his arm.
Touches. His. Arm. A red haze starts to enter my vision and I can barely hold myself back. I want to snarl, launch myself at her and claw my way into her body to make sure everything is shredded so she’ll never be able to touch him ever again. Not even in the damn afterlife.
The thought makes me swallow hard and stumble back. Holy shit. I’ve felt jealousy before. Between my sisters, my father, others around me, and even strangers. As strongly as this? Never. Which can only mean one thing.
I shake my head. It’s impossible. A hellhound can’t be my fated mate. Especially not one who my father wants to shackle to him, and even fucking promised my sister she’d get to marry him. There’s no way I can bring him back home.
My father would be delighted, or not...because I’d definitely need to kill my sister. Even her thoughts toward my fated mate would be enough to flip my shit. Hell, she might flip her shit too with her anger and kill me for stealing her desired husband.
“You love to suck cock, Blondie. Doesn’t matter who it’s attached to. So, there’s plenty for you to suck on tonight,” the hellhound says as he pulls his arm away and saunters into the clubhouse.
I feel a hint of satisfaction due to his reply, and watching Blondie pout at Karev’s back.
Karev. That’s what they called the hellhound.
He has a strong name that suits him. I like the way he doesn’t give them a second glance.
Then again, I hate the way the bitch keeps staring at him, even if he’s out of sight.
“I’m already late for work. See you tomorrow, Blondie?” the other woman rattles.
“Yeah, yeah.” Blondie waves her off and keeps staring at the building.
The other woman gets into a car, starts it, and drives off. All this time Blondie keeps staring, as if she’s debating something. It better not involve Karev. She takes one step in the direction of the building and I just know she’s going in there to try and touch him again.
Jealousy fuels the fury inside my veins and with my next breath I’m flying at full speed. I grab Blondie and take her with me into the air. She weighs nothing due to my extraordinary strength. I throw her up and zero in on the hand she used to touch my mate.
Blondie screams when I slice through her skin with my long nails. Her eyes are wide and the panic is setting in about the fact that she’s in the air and doesn’t see or know how she got there and who is hurting her.
Not something she needs to trouble her mind with for long.
A grin slides over my face as quickly as I slice the bitch’s throat.
I let her drop toward the ground and all the way down I keep on slashing.
I tear away her flesh until there’s only a splash of blood and skin littering the ground before her bones top them off like a cherry on top of a cake.
Lovely. I feel so much better. Flying to the steps of the building, I walk to the door and slide straight through it.
There’s nothing that can keep a fury out.
We can become invisible, easily walk through buildings, and spy on others to make sure accusations are correct before we inflict retribution.
I glance around the large space. It has a living room feel to it. Multiple couches, chairs, tables with chairs around them, and a bar in the back. There are a few men hanging around the bar, but I don’t see Karev.
Closing my eyes, I inhale to track his scent. My attention is drawn to a closed door and I walk toward, and straight through it. Karev is sitting at a large table along with another man. They are both wearing denim vests.
“Thank fuck everything is handled,” the man says to Karev, who nods in return.
Karev takes a breath and is about to say something when his head suddenly whips my way. His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow. I swallow hard. Does he see me? Impossible. No one can see me unless I allow it.