Ruthless love

2

King probably should have just stuck to minding his own business, but the truth was it had been so long since he had seen any action that he just couldn’t help himself. After all, it wasn’t every day that a gorgeous blonde werewolf ran into oncoming traffic right in front of you.

He had acted without thinking, charging into the road with little regard for his own safety to whisk her out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. But, as luck would have it, instead of a thank you, he received the heel of her boot slamming into his foot as a form of payment for a job well done.

Maybe if that had been the end of it, King wouldn’t have gotten involved. Sure, he would have been pissed that, instead of thanking him, she had left him with a wounded foot and bruised pride, but he wouldn’t have chased after her. However, when he saw the four men—werewolves—swarming out of the diner after her, a part of him knew it was none of his business. Yet, the other part of him, the part that had been craving a good fight, couldn’t ignore the instinct gnawing at him.

At first, he had turned in the opposite direction. Whatever was going on was her problem, not his. Hell, it was probably even the alpha of the New York pack’s problem, considering the location being on the outskirts of his territory. It definitely wasn’t King’s problem, he had told himself, trying to keep calm. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in something that had nothing to do with him, especially when he was already on thin ice with the New York alpha just for existing.

Yet, as he walked away, he heard it—the growling voices, the sounds of a cornered she-wolf in distress, her refusal to fall under whatever power these four men held over her. And then, King couldn’t ignore it. Nor could he ignore the primal instinct clawing at his gut.

Damn it! he snarled inwardly. Although he healed faster than a human, his foot was still stinging where the blonde bombshell had slammed her heel into it, making him slower than usual. By the time he reached the alleyway entrance, three of the men were on the woman. They were pinning her to the wall, snarling at her as she wriggled, clawed, and spat. Even for a werewolf, she looked feral—untamed. Again, King told himself to walk away. But something in his gut forced him to stay.

“Does Sid know you’re here?” he growled, his voice dripping with authority, glaring down the alley at the man standing between him and the others, watching with a sick smile as his companions attacked the defenseless she-wolf. The scent of werewolf was thick in the air, but not one scent belonged to the New York pack. These wolves shouldn’t be here. King, as a loner living outside of pack rule, was sure that his friends in the New York pack would have warned him if there were any visitors in town. It didn’t matter why they were here or what they were trying to do to this woman. Without Sid’s permission to be there, they were breaking nearly every werewolf law. King didn’t usually follow the rules, but for once, they were on his side, and he figured it best to use them.

The werewolf closest to him turned slowly, glaring menacingly. There was no surprise on his face. The wolf had likely heard King’s approach. It wasn’t surprising—when going up against another werewolf, King had long learned that it was hard to catch one of his kind off guard.

“This doesn’t concern you, boy,” the bulky man growled, his eyes narrowing. He was large, with a balding head and a beer belly that made him look far more human than he was. For a werewolf to have a beer belly, he had to be a serious drinker. Out of shape, King thought with a low growl. No wonder you let your men do your dirty work.

“How about you let the girl go and come back when you have permission from Sid?” King suggested, his voice dangerously calm. A warning growl rumbled from deep within his chest when the men slammed the girl against the wall hard enough to make her scream. The sound twisted his gut. It hurt more to hear it than he expected. Every fiber of his being itched to rush down the alleyway and rip the men apart. But he knew Sid wouldn’t take kindly to it if he made a mess of things.

“What are you? Sid’s lapdog?” the man sneered. King’s claws began to elongate in response, his patience wearing thin. Nobody called him that—at least not to his face.

“Let her go and leave, or you’ll regret it,” King warned, his eyes flashing with a barely contained ferocity. The alleyway fell into silence as a couple of humans wandered past, blissfully unaware of the tension thickening in the air.

As soon as they were out of earshot, King’s voice lowered to a deadly growl. “I warned you.”

King was about to throw himself down the alleyway at the first man, but he never got the chance. The man snarled, “Get him!” and two of the men instantly released the woman. The third held on just long enough to grab her by the face and slam her head back against the brick wall. The scent of blood, metallic and strong, instantly filled King’s nostrils, and his stomach twisted.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the woman’s body fall. She collapsed to the floor, slumped against the bricks, limp and lifeless except for the soft rise and fall of her breath, which King could hear when he strained his ears. His concern for her quickly turned into raw instinct to protect himself as the third man joined the other two. They charged at him, claws and fangs flashing in the moonlight.

King summoned all his strength. He fought with fang and claw, using every skill he’d honed over the years because the truth was, although there were three of them and only one of him, they hadn’t accounted for one thing: he was the son of an alpha.

The strength and power running through his veins were enough to send the first two men flying across the alley before the third had even reached him. King watched the man’s eyes widen with alarm as he struck so fast at his throat that the other didn’t even have time to dodge. Grabbing him by his windpipe, King squeezed until his claws began to tear into the man’s flesh. A little more pressure, and he could rip the man’s throat right out.

The fear on the man’s face was enough to make him stop. King knew he had made his point even before he picked the man up off his feet and slammed him into the nearest wall. His glare remained fixed on the leader as the third man’s body crumpled against the bricks. And it didn’t waver, even as the first two scrambled back to their feet.

“You’ve got two choices,” King warned them, keeping his eyes locked on their leader, “Scamper out of here, or get your asses handed to you all over again. But just be warned—if you try to take me on again, I won’t hesitate to rip your throats out.”

The two men who were recovering quickly rushed to their third companion and began to scoop him up off the floor where he had slid down the wall. They barely glanced at their leader as they began to scamper off, carrying their companion between them.

“Cowards!” their leader snarled after them. He glared back at King, as if deciding whether he wanted to take him on alone or not. Showing that his friends weren’t the only cowards, he began to skirt around the edge of the alleyway, keeping his distance from King. King kept his gaze fixed on the place where the man had been standing. He didn’t need to watch him leave; he could hear him perfectly fine, hear the fear pounding in his heart, telling him he wouldn’t dare to attack. If he changed his mind, King would know, and he would be ready—his ears were just that good.

It wasn’t until the leader had reached the alleyway entrance that he paused with his back to the streetlamps. King knew the man hadn’t dared to take his eyes off him. He could feel the heat of his gaze burning between his shoulder blades.

“Do you have something to say to me?” King snarled under his breath, knowing the other wolf could hear him perfectly.

“This isn’t over,” the werewolf snarled.

King gritted his teeth to stop himself from whirling on the man. Getting involved in another werewolf’s dispute was bad enough. If he killed this man, just as he wished he could, he’d be in ten times more trouble. Is she really worth that? he asked himself, his gaze turning soft as he glanced down the alleyway at the woman still unconscious in the corner between the building and the dead end. A gut feeling told him that, even though he didn’t know who she was or what she was doing on his territory, he wasn’t ever going to let these brutes anywhere near her again.

“I suggest you follow your friends unless you want me to serve you up to Sid on a silver platter,” King warned without taking his gaze off the woman. She was unmoving, but if he listened hard enough, he could still hear her faint breathing. One sniff told him that she was bleeding heavily from the wound to the back of her head. The sooner he could concentrate on her, the better.

He didn’t dare to sigh with relief until he heard the leader of the gang hurrying after his companions. It stuck in his throat the moment he hurried down the alleyway to kneel beside the woman. Even beneath the grime and blood, she was beautiful. Her golden blonde hair hung out of her ponytail in odds and ends all around her heart-shaped face, and as he watched, her eyes fluttered open for just a moment. They flashed silver-gray before dimming to blue and closing once more. The sound of her breath sighing out between her parted lips made King shiver.

Though a part of him knew that if he left her lying there, she would heal and go on her way, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon her, especially not with those assholes just around the corner. No, he was invested now. Whatever happened, it was going to happen under his watch.

Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, King slipped his hands beneath the woman and pulled her up into his arms. She gave a weak groan of protest before her head lolled against his shoulder, and he knew she was unconscious once more.

“The sooner I get you home, the better,” he thought aloud, knowing that she probably couldn’t hear him. That bang to the head had been a nasty one. It might have even killed her if she were human. But King could smell the mingled scents of human and wolf surrounding her, even beneath the smell of blood and grime and the vanilla perfume she had obviously used to try and disguise the fact she hadn’t washed in some time. Still, there was something about the smell that intrigued him, something that awakened his wolf to instincts he hadn’t realized he possessed.

Holding her in one arm, King leaned down and slung her handbag over his other arm before carrying them both from the alleyway. It was a good thing he lived a few short blocks away because this she-wolf was far heavier than she looked, and there were far too many eyes around. He could feel supernatural and human alike watching him as he passed and knew any number of them might report back to Sid what they had seen. Who knew how many of them were on the New York alpha’s payroll? He’d done his best to find out, but even he knew how easy it was to miss things, especially when you found yourself all alone in the world.

That was why he held her in his arms, why he didn’t just leave her in the alleyway for the other werewolves to circle back around once he had gone, why he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but carry her home to safety. He had been alone, and he knew what it felt like to have a constant target on his back. If he could prevent even one person from feeling that way, he would do whatever it took.

It certainly helped that the woman in his arms was beautiful and petite, making his wolf sit up and pay attention. I’d do this for any other lone wolf, he told himself firmly, but deep down, clawing at his insides, he knew the truth. That night, something deep and fundamental had changed in him. That night, King was no longer a lone wolf. That night, King repainted the target on his own back.