I crawl to my knees, looking back toward the open field of the property.
The car. I’ve been smelling gasoline in the air since the crash, but an explosion never entered my mind. Is that why Roman told me to run?
My eyes are wide, searching from left to right, terrified as the fire lights up the forest around me. I push back, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the aches and pains overwhelming my body. I have to get out of here. I have to find freedom.
The darkness is horrifying, and with each step, it feels almost as though it’s swallowing me whole, but I won’t let it. I will survive the night, and when the sun shines again, this bitch is going to rise like a fucking angel. Though, there may not be anything left for me to go back to. There’s no way Marcus will survive, and I’m positive that Roman will be dead within the hour. Once Giovanni’s henchmen are through with Roman, they’ll go after Levi next.
A piercing whistle cuts through the air, and I stumble as the familiar sound of paws hitting the hard earth picks up behind me. Fear pounds through my chest, certain that Roman has sent his wolves to tear my throat into ribbons of flesh, but when the wolf moves in beside me and matches my pace, the fear fades into a distant hum. I don’t see the wolf in the darkness, but I know he’s here, either watching over me or making sure I don’t do anything that’s going to get me killed before Roman has a chance to do it himself.
The wolf acts as my protector, pushing out in front and leading me through the trees as the sound of Giovanni’s war echoes through the property behind me.
My pace slows as my head grows dizzy. I won’t be able to run for much longer, and as if sensing my unease, the wolf pauses and glances back at me, his dark eyes glistening against the subtle moonlight.
He stares at me for a lingering moment and I can’t help but think that this wouldn’t be happening if he were running with any of the brothers. Fuck, I bet the wolf even thinks I’m pathetic.
Mustering up all the energy I have left, I push myself forward and follow wolfy through the thickening trees until I fall forward, landing on my hands and knees, clutching the wound at my stomach. “I can’t,” I whimper, tears streaking down my face as the wolf steps into my side and nudges my ribs, pushing me to keep going. “It’s too much … I can’t.”
A low growl vibrates through the big bastard and he bares his teeth at me, a silent message telling me to get my ass moving or he’ll drag me there one limb at a time. Letting out a broken cry and sensing that he won’t give me a choice, I crawl along the forest floor, putting one knee in front of the other while whimpering as the small stones and twigs tear at my skin.
The wolf leads me right into a dark, lonely cave and relief pulses through my veins like a shot of whiskey to an alcoholic in withdrawal. The cold cave is creepy and probably full of secrets I don’t ever want to know, but for now, it’s my only salvation.
My groans echo through the cave as my back slams against the natural stone wall. I clutch onto my body, holding myself tight and putting pressure on my wound as my head tilts back, closing my eyes and sending a silent prayer up to the god that I don’t even know exists. In times like this, I have to hope there is something bigger out there, some kind of guardian angel watching over me when I can’t do it for myself. I’m not ready to die yet.
The blood continues to pour as my energy quickly drains, and when shivers begin taking over my body, the big wolf moves into my side, pressing his weight against me and resting his head in my lap, lending me his warmth. Knotting my fingers into his fur, I hold him close, knowing that sooner or later, someone will come for me, and when they do, I’m going to be ready.
I’ve come too far to just give it all up now, and despite how much I need to run from the DeAngelis brothers, I need them more now than ever because, without them, I don’t stand a chance at destroying their father.
2
The wolf’s soft growl vibrating through his chest is my first sign that something isn’t right.
My tired eyes snap open to find a dark shadow hovering over me as his strong hand curls around my ankle. I get the smallest glimpse of Roman, his face masked by darkness with nothing but rage pulsing through his dark eyes. In a split second, he turns his back to me, his long hair pulled up into a messy nest as the late moonlight shines through the opening of the cave.
A loud gasp pulls from deep within me, my eyes widening in disbelief. It’s not possible. The odds were stacked against him. There were too many of them. He should be dead.
Blood splatters cover his skin, his once white shirt completely stained deep red, but it’s impossible to tell what percentage of that blood is his. He was shot only a few hours ago. He should be passed out on the ground, withering in pain, not traipsing through the woods searching out his next slaughter.
His nails bite into my flesh and a strangled scream gets stuck in my throat as he tugs on my ankle, pulling me after him. My back slams to the ground with a heavy thud and I cry out, my body too tired and exhausted to fight him off.
“NOOOO,” I whimper, frantically trying to pull myself free, knowing that after the bullshit he’s just endured at his father’s hands, there won’t be any more games. He means business, and this time, he won’t be fucking around. Chasing me through the castle and listening to the fear in my voice as I cried, whimpered, and screamed was just his warmup. Shooting out the tires of my getaway car, that was the pre-game, but now, he’s ready for the main event, and I know he won’t stop until my heart is nothing but a scarred, steaming mess at his feet.
Roman drags me through the entrance of the cave, my back scraping against the hard, uneven rock as the big wolf falls in beside Roman without another glance my way. He knows his master and he will be loyal until his dying days.
Vertigo hits me, the sudden movements proving too much for my exhausted body. “Stop,” I cry, pulling against my ankle, using my other foot to slam into his wrist and hoping that in some twisted turn of fate that I can get myself free, but even if I did, where would I go? Roman DeAngelis is a fucking beast. He would track me down in seconds, his big-ass wolf sniffing me out like a juicy steak with his name on it. “Let me go.”
Each word painstakingly torn from my throat is like a whimper of defeat. I can cry and fight until my world turns black, but we both know there’s only one end game here. All along, all the pain, fear, and terror, it was all just leading to this, but I’m not surprised. Despite their wild promises not to hurt me, I always knew my time in this world was limited.
Twigs, stones, and low branches scrape over my skin as my head continues to spin, bouncing against every rock in its path. I try to grip my stomach, the blood still seeping out of me in painful waves, but I can’t do this much longer. The darkness is coming and I’m terrified of what’s going to happen when the sun decides to shine again.
“Please,” I sob, tears streaking down my bloodstained face as my heel presses against his hand, desperately trying to push it off my sprained ankle. “I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me.”
I repeat those words over and over again, hoping just once he might stop to hear me, but it’s fruitless. He’s not a man to change his mind. He sees things right to the end, no matter how fucked up they might be. He’s a fucking psycho through and through. A goddamn heathen with a hard-on for death.