Bradley kicked the swinging screen door open with the heel of his boot. I had my back to him but I could hear everything. The sound vibrated my ear pressed against the ground. The smell of deer only lasted a second before Bradley's sickness overwhelmed everything else.
Gem came out of her grief like a horse from the starting gate. The silver burning my skin was the only reason I kept my form. She surfaced long enough to roar at Bradley before the silver was too much and I gained back control.
"Don't get too comfortable, little bitch. Your wolf and I will have time to play once I kill your mate." He ate the deer. Apparently he drew the line at cannibalism because he didn't touch Charlie's or Zeek's bodies. That horrifying thought strangely enough didn't faze me at all. Shock is weird.
I needed to do something. I couldn't wait for my pack. Bradley had killed too many people I loved. No more. I knew I wasn't even close to strong or dominant enough to stand a chance of beating him, even if I had all my strength. The silver kept me weak but I was going to do as much damage as I could before my family arrived. Even if I weakened him by a fraction or harmed him their chances of survival increased.
"We contacted England you know. Mr. Guthridge invited Bash and me to visit his estate." The giggle I made sounded real though I had no idea how I managed that. I was losing it. "He actually used the word 'estate' in his posh British accent; like we were going to have tea with the Queen. It was all very formal and uptight. I think we should have let Rikkard talk to him. They wouldn't have been able to understand each other. Mostly I thought it would be funny to force something so undignified as Rikkard's deep Norleans speech on the snob." I tried to mimic Rikkard's accent. "I'm sure there has never been anyone so deep fried southern American as Rikkard in Mr. Guthridge's distinguished estate." I put on my best butler impersonation every time I said the London Alpha's name.
It was working; talking about England. I'd hit the nail on the head when I told my pack Bradley hated rich people, but rich British people was a bright red DO NOT PUSH button all on its own. Out of all the different kinds of people in the world I happen to be of the pushers of big red buttons variety.
"Why don't you have an accent? Are all werewolves in England as snooty as Mr. Guthridge? I almost expected him to ask us to call him Sir William Arthur Guthridge the third but maybe he hasn't been knighted. Do they have pedigrees in the London pack? The way Sir Guthridge went on about his duty to England being fulfilled you would think the upper-class werewolves would all have pedigrees. Not you, of course, you've always been a mutt. Is that why they'll kill you if you ever go back? Your mongrel blood not good enough?"
That did it. I could see his bones shifting under his skin before he finished standing. All those months being handed over to Bradley for entertainment and all I had to do was call him a mutt. Seemed so simple. Why hadn't I thought of it before? Which was probably not the sanest thing to think about. I was held down by chains unable to defend myself when Bradley attacked but sanity had left the building.
Bonus. One good thing about the chains is they hurt Bradley as much as they hurt me and they protected vital organs from his claws and strikes. I just needed to hold out long enough. Either he would batter himself against my chains draining his energy and injuring himself or he'd take them off me and I could fight back.
When I heard his knuckles crack on the chain I saw his face. Bradley realized the chains were protecting me and he had them unlocked and off of me in seconds. Which was impressive considering it was a tiny lock and his hands were deformed.
I rolled over the chains once I was released and grabbed a section wrapping it around my hand. I struck Bradley across the face swinging links like a whip. He fell sideways and I climbed on top of him, silver chain wrapped around both fists like gloves. I channeled my inner boxer and jack hammered punches into every part of him I could reach.
A lot of them landed before he got his opening. He struck me with both palms right in the chest. I flew upward slamming into the ceiling. A knot in one of the logs rang my head enough to send spots twirling across my vision before gravity brought me painfully back to the ground.
"Finally," He growled as he pounced on me. Gem had tried to surge forward while my head was spinning, my eyes flashing yellow. "I like when you fight as one. It's so much better when you have something to fight for. It's going to make taking it from you more exciting."
He was excited; I could feel his enjoyment against my thigh. His claws scoured my hip when he tore my pajama bottoms off. I couldn't control my breathing anymore as fear finally overtook the shock that had kept me numb until this point. I couldn't let this happen again.
Not for myself but for Bash. This was my body, mine. I'd finally taken back ownership over my own flesh and I was his. I was Bash's mate and he was mine. No other person would have my body but my mate. If Bradley succeeded in destroying what I spent the last few days relearning and sharing with Bash, my mate would lose control and his wolf would never let him have it back. Sebastian would die. Bash.
Everything froze and Bradley wolfishly titled his head to the side. The look on his face was so freakishly happy I couldn't breathe, couldn't move for fear of what that joy meant. He nuzzled into my neck and breathed in so deep I could feel my skin pull towards him.
Bradley laughed, not a fun cheery laugh but one that turned my guts into concrete and froze the blood in my veins. "Maybe I will let you live. I'm a patient man." He tore my shirt down the middle. "Do you think Sebastian will let you keep it? Our pup?"
I felt so dirty and sick it physically hurt. Every cell in my body recoiled against the thought as I tried to turn my face as far away from him as I could. He held both my wrists together in a vice like grip above my head hard enough the bones ground together. His other hand explored my body. I couldn't pull myself loose. I tried to kick him but he settled his weight over my thighs.
His chest lined up with my own so even when I bowed my back and tried to buck him off it did nothing. He leaned forward and licked my cheek, slow; his tongue curling under my jaw before sliding up the side of my face. I could feel his taste buds drenched in spit as he left a wet trail on my skin. The tip of his tongue twirling around the corner of my eye before his lust huskied voice whispered in my ear.
"Heat. A she-wolf in heat has such a sweet taste." His hand released my wrists before he was sliding it down my arm to cup my chin and force me to look at him. 'I'm going to get my pup on you. And I'll wait. I want to watch you grow large with my seed and when the sight of you carrying my child drives Sebastian crazy then I'll kill him. You won't let him kill my pup, will you sweetheart? Not an innocent little child. Not like you were. You were abandoned by parents who didn't want you but you would never do that to a baby. Sebastian won't be able to handle it. He'll smell me on you. Did you know that? When a she-wolf is pregnant her scent mixes with that of the fathers. No foxes in the hen house if you know what I mean. Wouldn't want to spoil the bloodlines now would we. Keeps the bitches honest."
Panic, my long lost companion burst through me. Nine months, nine months of smelling Bradley on my skin. I couldn't do it. It wasn't a morality issue or politics but I knew I wouldn't be able to abort a pregnancy even like this. Bradley knew I was raised in the system, knew how to twist my own upbringing against me. I'd been a dumpster baby and I knew I wouldn't be able to get rid of a child because I didn't want it.
Could Bash? I didn't think he could either but he would lose control if forced to watch my belly grow with Bradley's child. He would blame himself, forced to see his failure to save me grow inside me every single day. I knew that's how he would see it. He would try to be a good man, try to love the child regardless but his wolf would go insane and I would lose him anyway. Bradley was right, if he didn't kill Bash the other Alpha's would have to.
I would not let that happen.
There was no earthly way I could get Bradley off me but then I thought of something. I didn't need to get Bradley off of me; I needed to keep Bradley right where he was. Better yet, I needed to force him to shift.
With a last ditch effort I bucked and jerked my hands at the same time reneging my wrists out of his grasp when they loosened to balance himself. I needed to hurt Bradley as much as I could and took the chains from my grip to wrapped them around Bradley's throat. Curling my arms towards my chest I clamped down hard on the links and pulled. The chain was burning his skin; I could smell fresh skin sizzling when mine had long since blackened.
Bradley jerked back swinging around trying to dislodge me. When he couldn't he went savage. There was nothing left of the man. He'd succumbed to the inevitable and went pure wolf.
Wrapping my legs around his torso I pulled the chain tighter against my chest crossing my arms to keep the pressure around his neck. Clinging to the underside of his belly I felt the shift, felt his bones break and regrow, his muscles stretch and tighten, sliding under his skin like ropes. His neck breaking and healing wrong as he's form grew unable to break the chains.
With me hanging on the shift was complete into full wolf form knowing Bradley's wolf was at a disadvantage. His legs didn't bend inward in a way that allowed for his claws to reach me. My head tucked under his jaw he couldn't touch me with his teeth.
I felt his lungs labor trying to exhale the carbon dioxide building up in his blood. That is the feeling of suffocating, not the fight in inhale but the need to exhale CO2. It builds up in the brain until the brain burns through all the oxygen and cannot function. His throat crushed and trying to heal only made it worse.
If I could hold on until Bradley passed out I could kill him. Once he was unconscious I could keep him from breathing until he died.
This was a lot harder than it sounded in my head. I'd already been tightening the chain around his neck for a couple of minutes. Bradley was thrashing around trying to throw me off of him. My arms were cramping and my back was shredded from being repeatedly slammed against the floor and the walls.
Bradley was pawing at me trying to pry me off of him but couldn't quite get his paws under me. His claws still caught my flesh and I had a deep gouge dripping blood down my side. His jaw snapped so close to my head I could feel strands of my hair caught in his fangs tugging on my scalp.
It burned but I held on tighter, my thighs screaming in protest. Stars flashed behind my eyelids when my head collided with the silver chains wrapped around Zeek's body. Bradley nearly buckled a wall and brought the whole cabin down on top of us as he flailed about. I cried out when a rib broke and punctured one of my lungs when he body slammed me, his weight pressing me into the ground.
Humans would die within a couple minutes at most. I'd been fighting to keep Bradley from breathing for what felt like an hour but was probably only ten or fifteen minutes.
His brain would heal itself but eventually even werewolves need to breathe. It's why so many of them choose suicide by drowning. And even rapid healing can only work so long as there is enough oxygen and the body isn't poisoning itself with CO2. Bradley was making it faster by struggling, the longer he fought the faster his brain died.
I had to hold on until he passed out but I was beginning to fade too. Blood filled my mouth as I coughed, my lung collapsed. It was a race to see who would pass out first, whoever did would die. I almost thought I could hear my pack coming. But exhaustion, silver sickness and blood loss could account for the hallucination so I wasn't going to trust it.
Bradley stumbled so I dug into my resolve and pushed myself to hold on tighter. He was off balance and was now concentrating more on not collapsing than on dislodging me. I was almost there, any second now Bradley would pass out but I was beginning to feel heavy. My own consciousness was flickering. My grip was starting to fail.
I prayed it had been Bash I heard because I wasn't going to stay awake long enough to finish off Bradley. They needed to get here before he woke up and killed me instead. I had just enough energy to hold on as Bradley crashed down on top of me.
The air in my one working lung forced out when his body crushed me between him and the ground. I was pinned but it didn't matter I was going under. Either Bash and his team got here to finish off Bradley or Bradley would wake up and I would die. Either way my part was done.
It was oddly peaceful knowing I'd done my best and it was over for me. Bash would survive if I didn't. I'd saved myself even if I died. I fought back and I won. If Bradley doesn't die and his wolf kills me, I still won. It was a lovely thought.
I won, Bash. I linked to my mate. There was a brief moment when it felt like Bradley's body was pushing off of me before everything went dark. But then again the feeling of weightlessness happens right before falling unconscious so that was the most likely cause for imagining I was cradled in someone arms and not held down by them.
Armzzz is such a funny word. My brain is heavy. Heaven smells like snow.