Ryan rushed after her. After her…and the witch. Because Shonna had followed the group that took Keira away from Alerac.
The heavy, wooden doors closed behind them.
Alerac was left with about ten vamps who were all salivating for his blood.
Drink up. Fuckin’ drink up. The faster they drank, the faster they’d die. He’d been sure not to let Keira sample his blood that night. But as for the others…
Drink your fill.
“I said you would get to live.” Lorcan picked up the silver knife. Flashed his fangs. “But I never vowed that you would not suffer.”
A vampire yanked back Alerac’s head, forcing him to stare up at Lorcan’s face.
The leader smiled. “I think I’ll start with your eyes. After all, what good is a wolf that cannot see?”
Dawn would come soon. Hours? Minutes?
He could survive anything until dawn. He knew Lorcan would not kill him right away. All in the realm knew of Lorcan’s love for torture. He never let any of his enemies die easily.
He made my family suffer for hours. Days.
Alerac had been gone, taken away by another battle. When he’d returned, there had been only decaying bodies waiting for him.
“I’m going to carve out your eyes, wolf. Then I’m going to carve you up. Slice by slice. When you’re bleeding from a hundred wounds, we’ll feast on you.” The blade came toward him, but in Alerac’s mind, he didn’t see it. He only saw Keira.
Then he saw nothing.
But he felt plenty, especially when the vampires began to feed on him.
***
“What did they do to him?” The voice—low, rumbling, angry—came to him in the darkness.
Why was it still dark? Dawn should have come by now.
“Alerac? Blast Lorcan to hell. Look at his eyes.”
Then, rough hands yanked him to his feet.
“Alerac, Alerac, it’s Liam. We got in, just like you said. We found the vampires. Half of ‘em were passed out.”
Because they’d feasted on his blood—just as Lorcan had promised. Drained him nearly dry.
They’d taken the poison right from his veins.
“A few got away, but we’ll catch their scents. We’ll hunt them,” Liam swore.
Liam…the werewolf who was like a brother to him. The one who always had his back.
Alerac tried to force himself to speak. “K-Keira…”
“You need to shift. Do you hear me? Shift now.” The snap of command was in Liam’s voice. So was the whisper of fear.
Only a shift would heal Alerac’s injuries. Not just one shift, not after all they’d done to him.
A few hours…
There was much, much that could be done in that time.
Alerac shook his head and nearly fell back down to the stone floor.
“Get the silver off him!” Liam demanded.
He didn’t feel that silver anymore.
But something hit the stone floor with a clunk. The chains?
“The silver’s gone,” Liam said as he pulled Alerac forward, forcing him to walk. “Shift.”
He couldn’t. He could barely sense the beast inside of him. There was something else that was more important. Something he needed.
The only person he could see in the darkness that surrounded him.
“K-Keira…” Her name was a broken rasp. They’d cut his throat, torn it with their fangs, and that weak rasp was all he could manage then.
Liam swore. “The vampire bitch? Look, we didn’t hurt her. We didn’t even see her.”
She was all that Alerac could see. Her eyes had been so blue. So trusting.
There had been love in her eyes.
Love for a beast who’d betrayed her.
“Keira…” Saying her name made him feel stronger. Made the beast inside stronger.
“The lass is not here! She wasn’t here when we arrived. Look, forget her—shift! Your eyes—they—they—”
He knew what they’d done to his eyes.
Just as he knew about all of the flesh they’d cut from him. Inch by inch. Slice by slice.
A growl built in his throat. They’d taken Keira. Sent her to be imprisoned? He had to find her. Had to find—
His bones began to snap. The wolf shoved and clawed his way to freedom as he pushed to get to the one thing he needed so desperately.
His knees gave way. He broke from Liam’s grip and hit the floor. His claws scraped over the stones. He opened his mouth. Tried to call Keira’s name once more.
But it was the wolf’s cry that escaped from him. A long, mournful cry for a mate who wasn’t there. A mate he hadn’t recognized.
Not until it was too late.
Two hundred years…
Present Day
Chapter One
Someone was watching her.
It wasn’t the casual, even flirtatious, stares that she sometimes attracted when she worked at Wylee’s Bar. Sure, her skirt was short enough and her top tight enough to get plenty of second glances.
But this wasn’t about her clothes. Or her figure. Or about some kind of fast hook-up between strangers.
I feel hunted.
Very carefully, Jane Smith put the empty beer pitcher on the bar. Then her gaze rose and locked on the long, stretching mirror that covered most of the wall behind that bar. In the mirror’s gleaming surface, she could see the crowd that filled Wylee’s.
And the man who watched her.
Goosebumps rose on her skin. The man was big, muscled, with huge shoulders that filled the doorway—and he was still standing just inside the doorway. He’d angled his body toward the shadows so that she couldn’t clearly see his face, but she knew he was watching her. The realization was instinctive. Bone deep.
“Jane? Table four is waiting for you.” More beer was pushed toward her.
She didn’t move. She didn’t want to head over and check on table four. She wanted to run, fast and far, from that little bar.
Because she was afraid.
In the last six months, she’d been afraid plenty. Countless times, she’d woken up at night, screaming, not even knowing why. She never dreamed when she slept. Just saw darkness. Total and complete.
But she feared.
The man in the doorway—I’m afraid of him.
“Jane?” The bartender and the owner of the place, Hannah Wylee, frowned at her. “Girl, you look like you’re about to faint.”
She felt that way, too.
But Jane forced herself to reach for the tray. To curl her hands around it and turn away from the bar and that broad mirror. She turned—
He was still in the doorway. So tall. The stranger had to be about six foot four. And those shoulders—they were truly brushing the sides of the old, wooden entrance to Wylee’s Bar.