Four

Warm milk was indeed helping with the nightmares. It wasn't, however, helping with the fact that I was sharing a bed with a Lycan. His hands were surprisingly warm for a cold-blooded killer's. They stroked lazily on my bare arm, raising goosebumps on my arm. An arm was folded as my makeshift pillow, but due to his tall and broad frame, his lips ghosted by the shell of my ear. Sometimes he seemed asleep, but then his ministrations would continue, tracing my flesh. "How am I supposed to sleep if you keep doing that?" I hoped I came across as annoyed. Stark merely growled low, the sound sending slight vibrations to my shoulder blade from his chest. "You say that yet your eyes lull everytime I resume my actions." Not true; entirely, at least. Once or twice I was close to slipping off the edge, but the thought of him doing something horrid to me in my sleep kept me awake. After mustering enough courage to do so, I twisted around so I could face him. His eyes were shut, surprisingly long lashes kissing his cheeks. His sharp nose fit well with his hard features. Breathing steady and paced, he seemed to be content. "How old are you?" Mikhail had told me that Lycan's become immortal between the ages of sixteen to twenty-one. My mind told me to ask how old he was. "Six." I frowned. "Six? As in what? Sixteen? Sixty?" He dragged in a breath, releasing slowly. "Six hundred." "Pedophile." I blurted. "The only one getting pleasure from this is the Moon Goddess." he grumbled, leaning forward abruptly. His face found a place in the crook of my neck, the biting cold of his nose told me that I shouldn't have been picky about keeping the blanket to myself. With great struggle, I tugged the blanket from underneath him and force his body to lay where mine once was, letting him rob the heat from me. I moved to sleep where he laid but instead he latched on my arm, pulling me inbetween his legs so that my torso pressed against his lower abdomen. "Sleep." The covers suddenly raise over us like a blanket of red snow, wrapping around myself and him as the night dipped into it's darkest hour. "Good night, Stark." I found myself saying. "Pleasant dreams, mea lux." he whispered softly, his voice huskier and deeper than usual as tightened his arms around my waist. ~ "Valentino. Arabian. Sandra Lee... oh, and Pacfic." This game was getting us nowhere. The rogue prisoners that Mikhail and the fighters had captured answered our questions with phony responses. "Answer the damn question!" Palinquis roared, slamming his hands down on the interrogative table that I sat upon. The constant yells of frustration brought Stark in from outside. "What is your concern?" I snapped my gaze away from his silvery one. "Pack business." I said stiffly. "Nothing you need to be concerned about." He advanced toward the man that was suspended by chains, his toes dancing on the dirty floor for balance. "Is this the one you are trying to get information from?" "Yes." Palinquis replied wearily. "He refuses to speak and gives us bogus answers in re-" Before he could have time to finish his sentence, Stark's hand shoved straight through the man's torso. He yanked his arm out, this time taking intestines with him. The sight of his guts spilling from the gaping hole in this stomach was brutal and gruesome. "Answer their questions and I shall grant you a swift death. If not, it will be your heart next." Stark was calm, cool and collected- as if he hadn't just gutted a prisoner with his bare hands. The rogue spluttered fits of coughing, blood spewing from his mouth and onto the floor. The crimson liquid dribbled down his chin and he screamed, teeth stained red. "I'll talk!" He could talk, but I couldn't hear. Hear him scream in agony as Stark tortured him with a faint smile on his face. I dashed out of the cell before the urge to release the contents of my stomach. The crisp fresh air calmed me down quick, so I did my best to take as many gulps of air as possible- as much as it would take to forget the image of my mate taking pleasure in bringing someone to the brink of death. He is the enemy! My wolf snarled. You will do well to remember that before you judge our mate. He tortured him! Enemy or not, you don't just torture someone brutally with a smile on your face. It's not natural. I gasped and leaned against a tree, my head spinning from the sight that I'd been exposed to. She didn't answer me. I was alone again. A sickly sweet voice filtered from in front of me. "Luna Katya? What are you doing out here alone?" I frowned, the voice unfamiliar as I lifted my head to see a brown haired man with green eyes. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" A malicious grin flickered on his face and he lunged forward. My unsteady balance saved me from getting a hole through my chest when I rolled to the side, the stranger's claws digging into the bark. "Rogue," I sneered, standing on my feet. "I'm guessing you want the one in the basement back." He tugged his hand from the tree, flexing his fingers as he turned to me. "You got that right. Next question: Do you know why I'm here?" He didn't give me time for an answer and swiped his hand across. I ducked, sweeping my leg out to catch him at the hip. Rotate your hips more. Stark's advice came in handy because I heard the satisfying crunch of his hip bone shattering from the force of my kick. Letting out a strangled scream, he dropped down to one knee. I straightened up, "Just because I'm a Luna, doesn't mean I'm not a fighter." He gave a pained smirk. "Which is why I didn't come alone." It was two seconds too late that I realized that I was being ambushed. Four other werewolves appeared from the trees. I could sense two coming from behind me. The moment I took a step back, the one on my farthest right threw a punch. I just barely missed his swing. Unfortunately for him, the sheer force of his blow sent him off balance. I took the oppurtunity to slam my elbow into the junction of his shoulder and neck to knock him out cold. Before the others could come after me, the door swung open to reveal a bloodied Stark. But all the blood wasn't his own. The rogue chained in the cell wasn't screaming anymore. The air seemed to be vacuumed from the surrounding area as tension took it's place. The prescence of a Lycan was something that could have you on the verge of nervous breakdown if you were one of the faint hearted. Stark lifted his hand, flicking the blood down. "Did I walk in on something?" One of the rogues trying to sneak up on him, oblivious to the fact that Lycan's had a sixth sense. Without even looking behind him for an exact location, Stark thrust his hand through and through the man's throat. That wasn't even the worst part. When he pulled his hand back, the rogue's spine came with it. He raised the spine as if it was a throphy, a lazy grin on his face. "Come on, now. That's not the best you got." Enraged, one of the other rogues charge forward. Was he that stupid? His partner surely didn't think so, because the moment he took off to avenge the rogue he followed in pursuit. The result was a shower of blood. Once they got within a yard, Stark moved into action, moving so fast the he was but a blur. My eyes struggled to keep up with him as he ripped through the rogues in thin clean cuts, blood splattering the tranquil area. The grotesque bodies laid by his bare feet. "I'm afraid I'll need a new pair of jeans." he murmured low, looking down on his blood-soaked blue jeans. ~ Cold. That was the word I would use to describe the occasional smile that slipped on his lips he got to kill. The same mouth that whispered his goodnight to me, the same mouth that quirked into a smile that I couldn't place just before he had convinced me to let him sleep in bed with me. The same mouth that found a place on my shoulder to wake me up. The same mouth that just tore out a rogue's throat. After the five rogues that attacked, three of them being handled by Stark, a swarm of them came from the woods. But they weren't running to us, but rather running from something. And that something was Jazz looking like a golden wolf. No, he was a golden wolf. A golden wolf whose fur was caked with the blood of his enemies. I was about to shift myself so I could help, but Stark held me back. "No. Jazz and I shall handle this. You go back to the cell." He shifted before I could reply. His wolf was something otherworldy. Built just like Jazz- the ultimate form of a werewolf. He rested on his haunches, shaking out his long and bristly dark brown fur. I myself got captured in those eyes as he looked at me, paralyzed with fear. And then he lunged over me, joining the fight with Jazz. Luna Katya? In here, please. Alpha Mikhail would not take it lightly if he found out you were hurt. Despite Palinquis' words, I couldn't tear my eyes from the fight. They looked so...graceful in battle. Their movements were to the point, no action uneccesary. The clearing was a blood bath in under five minutes. ~ "I haven't fought that big of a group in two years." Jazz grumbled after I had given him clothes to change into once he had shifted. "I think I popped a shoulder." A popped shoulder? Was that all they got from the fight with around at least sixty rogues? "North or east?" Stark asked, pulling on a gray longsleeved shirt over his body. He had no injuries except for a pinecone he stepped on which left the smallest of bruises. It would go in a mere five days, unlike if it were a normal werewolf. I learned something new everyday, this one being that Lycans don't have healing abilities, which meant that they scar and bruise. "Weird, isn't it?" Jazz said quietly, his silver eyes hooded as he popped his own shoulder back in place. "I've seen stranger." I murmured stiffly. "Is there any way you can contact your brother?" "Other than mindlinks? No, he's silent. He can hear me, the conncetion is still strong. He's just not replying." Jazz grabbed a red button up shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift movement. "I'll call up Castor. Tell him to scout the area around your pack before arriving." Stark said, avoiding my eyes. "Wouldn't he just shift into a wolf and come here instead?" Jazz snorted. "As if Castor would let dirt touch his feet when it isn't necessary."