Chapter 50
Chapter 50
I blinked, not understanding. Then realization dawned like a cold spray of ice water.
“The Dark Fae wants our realm.”
I slipped out of the bathroom, leaving the younger witch to follow a few moments later. My steps unhurried, I made for the exit, my heart settling like a rock in my stomach. To have this confirmation about the Dark Fae felt like dousing icy water over my body—jarring. The possibility they wanted to take over the Human Realm was startling to my nerves, and my body felt as if it was unraveling tendon by tendon.
Within several feet of the door, an arm snaked around my shoulders. “Woah, there, little female,” a deep voice purred behind me. “Don’t you wanna stick around for a little while?”
After spinning around, I found myself in the arms of a male werewolf. I recognized him. He was one of the males who Ryker Steelheart growled at earlier at the table. He had his hair slicked back with gel, causing the locks to resemble porcupine quills. Beady green eyes stared down at me, thin lips curled in a lustful grin.
“No, I don’t,” I bit out, squirming in his arms. “Now, unless you want your balls kicked up into your throat, I suggest you let go of me.”
The man’s head fell back as he roared with laughter. His grimy arms still snaked around me as he howled back to his pack mates at the table. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a feisty one.” The other males cheered their approval. The male werewolf holding me dipped his head, his cold, wet lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “I like them like that.”
A shiver trailed down my spine at the feel of his fishy lips grazing my ear. I shrank away, fangs grown out, ready to sink my teeth into his arm. But as quick as he grabbed me, the male released me with a shove. I staggered, almost falling on my ass. One glance up at the male showed a marked transformation in his features. Gone was the sleazy grin, the lust in his eyes, only to be replaced by a look of disdain—his upper lip curled back in revulsion.
“You’re a latent!” he growled.
“She’s a latent?” one of the males at the table yelled out.
“Yeah,” the male, who’d held me, snarled. “I can fucking smell it on her. She has no wolf.”
The other werewolves at the table jeered. A familiar pang of hurt lanced through me. Echoes of the voices of children from long ago crept into my mind.
She has no wolf!
Just a stupid latent!
Poor latent, no wolf means she’s not worthy of a pack!
I bit my lip hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood flooding my mouth. Weakness. I’d shown weakness, and like a bird of prey, the male werewolf sensed it.
“Aww…” he cooed mockingly. “Did that hurt your feelings, little latent?” He pushed at my shoulder. “Get the fuck out of here!” His eyes tightened to slits. “Wolfless bitch.”
One moment, the male werewolf stood before me and the next, a blur of fur barreled into him, pinning him against the far wall. I gasped, blinking.
Ryker Steelheart.
Two hundred plus pounds of alpha male jumped on the lean male werewolf. Ryker Steelheart’s meaty paw clamped around the wolf’s throat. The smaller werewolf clawed at his hand, kicking out as the alpha suspended him several feet off the floor. Ryker Steelheart snarled, unfazed by the torn flesh of his fist, still wrapped around the male’s throat. He squeezed, and the male wheezed, his face splotching red.
The wolf’s pack mates leaped to their feet in snarling fury. Ryker Steelheart’s head snapped back to the wolves, a roar tearing from his barreled chest. The dominance he exuded slammed into the wolves—and into me—-with enough force that it stole my breath away, causing the fine hairs on my arms to stand on end.
The wolves stilled, their heads dipped, necks bared. Anyone who glanced at Ryker Steelheart—the gold of his eyes, thick fangs bared, stiffened hair—could tell he was moments away from losing his shit. And no one was stupid enough to go toe to toe with a raging alpha werewolf on a rampage.
Ryker Steelheart’s head turned to the gasping male still in his grasp.
“Apologize.” His voice sounded like a ragged whisper, dipped in ice and dangerous.
“What?” the male choked out.
Ryker Steelheart squeezed harder and blood spurted from the male wolf’s mouth.
I swallowed hard. My mouth and throat felt so dry—parched.
“I won’t ask again,” Ryker Steelheart told him in a voice sounding like graveled rage. “You shamed the female. I have no problem with flaying the skin from your flesh inch by inch and feeding it to the wild wolves, you little shit.”
“I… I’m sorry.” His green eyes fastened on Ryker Steelheart, holding a pleading expression.
“Not. To. Me.” Ryker Steelheart jutted his chin out toward me. “Apologize to the female. Now!”
The wolf’s terrified eyes skated past Ryker Steelheart, searching for me. “S-sorry.”
My limbs went numb with astonishment. No one had ever stood up for me besides my elder brother Ty and sister Sky. To witness a bear, my enemy, uphold my honor—my fated mate who’d rejected me—caused a rush of warmth to bloom in my chest. A lone tear slipped from my eye, but I swiped it away. My gaze caught and remained on the broad play of muscles in Ryker Steelheart’s back, the corded tendons of his forearm.
Seconds passed before Ryker Steelheart released the wolf. The male crumpled to the ground, gasping for precious oxygen. Ryker Steelheart spat, his saliva pelting the male’s cheek. He cast one last murderous glare at the other wolves before whirling around and stalking toward me. His thick arm encircled my waist, and with that, he escorted me out of the bar.