*WINNER of Best Cliche Breaker for Undiscovered Werewolves*
"Underneath her skin was a wolf; all bite and snarl and nothing else."
The day Saoirse de Rais made her Alpha submit is the day she decided to run.
Traveling from city to city--state to sta...
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He was in the bed of his truck. His eyes slowly opened, his head drowning in pain. It took a moment before he shot up.
"Saoirse?!" He yelled, looking back toward the interior of the truck, expecting her to be in the front seat, waiting for him to wake his lazy ass up.
But the seat was empty.
Crisp clean clothes covered him, and as he moved he felt the tight bindings of bandages along his side. If he was healing, that meant that someone took the time to pluck out the bullet from his wound. Bullet. He put a bullet in Enzo's head. He killed an Alpha.
"Fuck," he moaned.
Yards away from his truck was a car—sleek, black, with no plates that he recognized. He pulled himself out from the bed, patting his pockets until he found his keys. He slipped them between his fingers, and slowly made his way toward the car. Saoirse couldn't possibly be in there—the last time he saw her, she was running far away from Enzo's house, away from him.
His heart sank at the thought that she might still be out there, alone. She was somewhere inside her wolf. She was stuck, and he was one of a very few who could help her escape. He had to find her. He had to help her.
He reached the car, eyeing the tinted windows. Whoever was inside there, he was certain that they did all the dirty work of cleaning him up. But who the hell would go through all of that trouble? Absolutely no one in that pack gave a shit about him, and he was certain that no one from his pack had followed him.
They're not your pack anymore. You killed an Alpha.
The backseat window slowly slid down, and inside was Mira Addario. His skin blanched as he peered inside. Her mouth was set into that same thin line as before, her steel gray eyes drilling into his gaze. But she was different. There was nothing in her eyes—there wasn't anger, or sadness. They were flat, and unnerving as she opened the door to pull herself out of the car.
"Here's how this works, Bo Church." She dug a well-manicured nail into his chest, her teeth gritting. "I'm letting you go so you can find Saoirse de Rais. Not out of kindness."
He stood still, breathless.
"Because I want her to watch as I rip your heart out. And then." She leaned in close. "Then, I'm going to make her eat it."
He wanted to vomit. Mira tore her hand away, moving back into the car. Now, she smiled—and it was just as nauseating as her threat. Bo swallowed thickly, clutching his keys so hard that his knuckles began to turn white. Enzo chose the perfect woman to be his mate—she was just as ruthless as he was. Bo had to watch out for her.
He was a wanted man, now.
He had to find Saoirse. He had to get her back, and then he had to stop Mira. He looked away from the car, assuming that the chase would begin the moment Mira's car drove away. He was a wanted man the moment he put the bullet in Enzo's brain. But now he had to wonder: who would get to him first?
Was it going to be Mira or the elders? Either one was just as terrifying to think about. His hands shook as he made his way back to the truck. He wasn't just a wanted man. He was a murderer, too. He couldn't pretend he was a saint (as if he ever was). Enzo might have tried to kill them first, but that didn't matter when it came to their rules, their laws. You never killed an Alpha.
He reached deep into his pocket, just as he heard the car pull a quick U-turn, heading toward the other direction, and felt something small at the bottom. He flinched, pulling out the cheap plastic ring.
Saoirse dropped it when she changed.
He stared at it as he opened his truck. Reaching into the glove box, he pulled out a bare chain. He linked the ring through it, and slipped the chain over his head. His hands were fastened on the steering wheel, but he couldn't seem to move.
Bo couldn't go back to Doherty. Not ever again. He knew he had to tell Ellis, but what was he going to say? How could he tell his best friend that he had to run, that he murdered a man, and that he now had to search the state—maybe even the country—for his wife? How does he even begin to explain that he and Saoirse exchanged wedding vows?
He just couldn't tell Ellis. He had to keep him in the dark. He had to keep everyone in the dark. It was better if they didn't know. Ellis would keep them safe; the pack could protect themselves. Doherty was a strong pack, and they wouldn't run away from a fight. He belonged to a damned good pack, and he was proud of that fact.
He was going to find their Alpha. He was going to bring her back.
And so, he ran.
End.
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( a.n. ) There's so much I want to say, and I am very sure that you have questions. I'm so grateful for you guys. Little Bit Dangerous started as this little novella project while writing Marked, and clearly it's become so much more. You guys made this story worth writing--not just its characters, which I've grown to love. Don't get me wrong, I love Bo and Saoirse. But your support over the last year and a half means so much to me. I cannot express that enough. You're all so wonderful, and so damned perfect. Thank you.
Second, Little Bit Dangerous is part of a duology. Which means that there will be a second book. And if you guys check the next post/chapter after this one, you'll finally get to see the title, the cover, and the synopsis. Buckle your seatbelts, because you're gonna love it.
