The Hollow Moon (Downworlder Series, #2)

Chapter Seven: Part Two: Frostbitten

They were pulling at her hair again while she sat curled in on herself, knees to chest letting them do it. She didn't try to defend herself. She didn't cry out for help. She was silent and submissive as she took their regular dose of beating.

The anger burned through my chest like hot coals in a fire, a snarl splitting through the air as I charged at her attackers from the shadows. I tackled the first boy to the ground, taking him by surprise. My fists were curled into tight balls as I knocked them against bone and flesh, again and again. I could smell the blood and the fear and I wanted more of it. A toothy grin worked up my face. I was going to make sure that they never touched her again, never.

Small hands grabbed at my arms, "Stop, Revan." Her voice shook as she tried to pull me from my prey. I growled low. I wasn't done. I would stop when the fucking idiot stopped moving, "You're killing him."

"Good." I continued to wail on him, "He shouldn't have touched what didn't belong to him." And he had. He had touched my Marguerite. She was my friend and that made her my property, or at least that is what my wolf believed. What was under our protection no one else was allowed to touch unless we wanted to share.

"Revan, please stop." Her gentle voice had me freezing with my fist and inch from flesh. My chest was heaving from the exertion, while my eyes focused on the brutality of my hands. The other kids stood silently in a half circle around us, staring with wide eyes. The boy underneath me was almost unrecognizable, sadly his chest was still moving which meant that he would live.

I let Marguerite pull me up and away from my prey, her small hands checking me over for damage, "The only reason you are breathing is because of her. So next time you think about touching her with your fucking filthy hands, remember that." I looked over the crowd, making sure to look each one of them in the eyes, "Now take your friend and get the fuck out of my sight before I change my mind." They scrambled quickly, dragging their friend away back into the shadows like the fucking rats that they were. My wolf was not happy that I had let them go, but I knew Marguerite hated the violence. We would track them down later and finish what we had started, I promised him.

"Your hands..." She remarked as she probed the broken and bruised flesh of my knuckles.

I wasn't worried about the damage my hands would heal up stronger than before. I had spent hours on my father's punching bag with my bare hands, they were almost as scarred and callous as his own.

"You're always hurting yourself for me. I don't like it." She murmured.

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't mind the pain, "If you don't like it, and you want me to stop than learn to defend yourself." I found myself smirking at the way she pouted at my words, dropping my hand.

"Revan..." She whined my name as she walked back to the bag she had been carrying, "You know I can't..." I knew her beast didn't like the violence anymore than she did. I had tried on numerous occasions to teach her how to defend herself but every time it had ended with her curling up into a ball, shaking like a leaf. I usually did my best not to laugh at the sight. She was too gentle to survive in this world, but still I wanted her around. She was like breathing fresh air on an early winter morning. Her scent was frosty and burned my senses in a pleasantly painful way. My Marguerite was perfect and pure like the snow.

I stared down at her as she pulled a half empty bottle of water from her bag, unscrewing the cab and tossing it away. She grabbed my hand in hers, tilting the bottle and letting the water run over my knuckles in an attempt to clean them, "I guess you'll just have to get used to patching me up then." I gave her a smug smile as she peered up at me under thick sooty lashes.