Moon, Bitten

Chapter Twenty-Five

*Warning* This chapter contains sexual content and some profanity.

 

          Ronan surged forward, his hands fastening tightly about the steel railing as silver eyes scoured the dance floor. He felt Micah fall in beside him and mutter something intangible but the beta’s concern fell on deaf ears.

          He inhaled deeply of the many smells infiltrating the air, distinguishing them for what they were, trailing that single, offensive odor that would betray his prey.

          The flickering strobe lights suspended above swept fleetingly over the crowd, disrupting his train of sight and with an exasperated snarl he whirled towards the stairway.

          The bastard was in his bar, depleting his liquor, inhaling his air. It was enough to set fire to his blood. He felt the stirrings of his wolf, evoked by the sudden rage spanning his veins, pushing the vessels to strain beneath his skin.

          His nostrils flared wide, narrowing in on that unmistakable stink, extracting it from the salty tang of sweat that riddled the air.

          His gaze fixed indignantly on a man lounging lazily against his bar, one arm draped about the waist of a renowned streetwalker with an immeasurable appetite for heavy narcotics. He pressed the woman tight to his side, fondling her breast which prompted a lusty giggle from his slender, buxom companion.

          A grating and savage snarl rendered deep from Ronan’s throat as his canine’s extended; his beast rising violently at the sight of the bastard.

          He had seen this man before, though a brief encounter, the human’s face had instilled to his memory and that distinguishing odor of cigarette simply validated Kate’s attacker, all but magnifying his rage.

          Ronan launched forward, the patrons of his bar forgotten and his ability to keep his beast at bay, abandoned, as he stalked his intended prey with a murderous gleam.

          He pushed bodies from his path, his gaze filtering with red as he recalled Kate’s stricken and battered body. His fists tightened as he quickened his stride, eager to wrap his canines about the human’s throat when a sudden grip abruptly derailed his objective.

          Enraged by the deterrence, Ronan rounded furiously on his restrainer, forgetting the present, and the many faces circulating him.

          “Ronan!” Micah cautioned in a deep-sounding hiss.

          The vise-like grip about his forearm tightened warningly and slowly Ronan emerged from his red haze to peer clearly at his beta.

          “Your wolf – “ Micah murmured low enough for Ronan alone.

          He straightened, realizing his eyes projected strongly of the beast within, his fingers having lengthened with talons.

          “Restrain yourself.” His beta commanded.

          Even as he reined in his beastly other, Ronan’s gaze leveled on that spot at the bar only to discover the bastard and his harlot gone.

          With a resounding and furious growl Ronan shook Micah’s grip off and stalked outside.

          “What the –“ he heard Micah grumble.

          Ronan stopped short of the road and swept a quick perusal of the area, his eyes glinting menacingly beneath the ray of the moon.