Succumb (ON HOLD) (Being edited)

Chapter 8

The next few moments were focussed on getting free.  I was glad to discover, a little while later, that he had only given me a hickey.  It should’ve been a relief, but I was just mad.

Like the pigheaded jerk he was, he threw me over his shoulder the minute I began fighting.  I felt all dizzy at the time, in full adrenaline mode.  I had just wanted to get out of there.  It seemed that the werewolves were a threat after all.  I had every intention of running, breaking out my brother, and hightailing it out of here.  If we were lucky, we’d come down on some vampires.  I’d probably send Cam away beforehand, though.  These werewolves had just made up my mind – I wasn’t stalking vampires anymore, I was going to let them take me.

That plan had to be stalled, though, because a certain werewolf refused to let me go.  No matter how hard I pounded his back, I got no response.  There were no special fighting tactics when you were thrown over a shoulder; you were practically useless.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t use my voice, though.  I screamed at the top of my lungs, pitching it as high as I could, not caring whose attention I might be drawing.

When we arrived back at the house, everyone was inside.  They were all startled when Gunter dragged the banshee into their home.  Jared was in the living room, sitting on a couch.  He looked up the moment we walked in, looking shocked to see my state, and then guilty when I met his eyes.  He looked away.

I stopped screaming, subdued by his presence.  A plan began to form in my mind.  My earlier recklessness in marking him could come in handy now.

He took me to his room again, throwing me onto the bed.  He turned around and closed the door, locking it.  I watched him warily, getting up on my knees on the corner farthest from him.  I could easily break through the window; the one that wasn’t broken, to make it dramatic – or to piss him off.

I gritted my teeth when Gunter kept staring, his eyes narrowed with his head tilted back.

“What?”  I snapped, pissed.

He didn’t answer; instead, he crossed his arms over his broad chest.  His chestnut hair was mussed, curling dramatically around his neck.  He was clad in only ripped, old jeans, his feet bare and dirty.  He wasn’t traditionally handsome like the fae, or beautiful like the vampires.  He emanated a dangerous, roguish presence.

I didn’t like it when he stared at me like that; I felt too exposed at the moment.

I must be getting rusty.  It’s been a long time since I went for a bad boy.  But this was just ridiculous!  I felt absolutely shaken by a force as simple as his gaze.  I didn’t like it when men used their power over me.  It was a major turn-off.  I was always the one in control, making men go on their knees as they begged pleasure I would never give them

So.  I’d just apply that expertise here.

“Nice room, by the way.  All claustrophobic and that.” I stood up from the bed, deliberately stretching my arms above my head.  His eyes darkened, watching as my curvy body exhibited itself.

I bit my lip as my side gave a pinch.  My wounds had stopped bleeding, but they were only half-healed, and the stitches had torn and needed to be replaced.  I could do that myself, though.

“Excuse me, but I’m going to take a much needed trip to the bathroom.  I’ve had enough testosterone for the day.”

As I entered the en suite bathroom, I sensed him move.  I glanced behind me and observed his intentions of joining me.  I wrinkled my nose and, forcing myself to act nonchalant, I made a shooing motion with my hand.