Running Scared

Her white hair spilled out over the sheets, blending in until only her dark lashes and pink lips were visible in the dim light of his bedroom. The pale nightgown she wore fell nearly to her ankles and hid the bony contours of her wasted body.



Madoc didn’t like scrawny chicks. Nika shouldn’t have done anything for him, but his dick thought otherwise. Not that he could listen to it for advice—the thing had a mind of its own.



Before he could stop himself, he looked at the ring on his finger, hoping for a sign that she could save him. As always, he saw nothing in the pale depths of the band—no pulse of color or glimmer of hope.



Madoc couldn’t even find the strength to mourn what could have been. He was empty. Hollow. Void of everything but pain and anger.



But those faithful companions had served him well last night as he’d hunted. Sixteen more sgath had fallen by his blade. He didn’t know if any of them had stolen pieces of Nika’s mind, but if they had, she would be that much more restored when she woke today.



Killing was all he had to offer her, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise.



With a final glance at her, Madoc eased himself from his bed to dress for a few hours of pumping iron in the training yard. After that, he’d go find a whore or three to fuck, then head out to kill some more sgath at nightfall. Same ol’, same ol’. At least now that they’d found out what was plaguing Nika, he had a reason to get out of bed each day.



“Madoc.” Nika’s faint voice drifted up from the bed.



He froze, knowing that if he turned around right now, he might change his mind about those whores and use her instead. She was here, and he hurt like hell. He could find some ease inside her body—scrawny or not—even if it was only for a while.



“I saw you last night,” she said. “Hunting.”



If she’d seen him, then a sliver of her mind had been in the beasts he’d killed. At least he was finding the right sgath. That was something.



“How was my technique?” he asked without turning around.



He heard a shift of fabric, the slight creak of the bed as it moved under her meager weight. She was getting closer to him. He could feel it in the tightening of his muscles, the awareness of the heat of her skin.



The soulless part of him dared her to touch him. Reach for him. It was all the excuse he needed to throw her down and use her. If she touched him, then she must want him to take her. He’d have no more reason to hold back. He could give into that baser part of him that wanted the release that only came from coming inside a woman. All she had to do was lay a single finger on his body and she’d be his.



Madoc stepped away, out of reach of the bed.



“You’re afraid of me?” she asked.



She hadn’t meant it to be a taunt, but Madoc’s blood was running hot, and he heard it as one, anyway. He spun around, not even bothering to hide his thick erection from her sight like he might have before he’d lost his soul. His honor.



She looked almost ethereal, all pale and glowing in the darkness. She was kneeling on the bed, and her white gown pooled around her knees, hiding her body from his sight.



Madoc wanted to strip it from her and see her naked. Keep her that way. He didn’t even care anymore if she was bony and weak. He’d find a way to fix her and make her healthy enough for the kind of treatment he had to offer.



When he spoke, his voice was rough with arousal. “No, but you should be afraid of me. What the hell were you thinking coming into my room? Into my bed?”



Nika frowned in confusion. “I’ve slept here every day and you haven’t complained.”



“Like hell you have,” spat Madoc. “I think I would have remembered having a woman in my bed.” Although, he’d slept like the dead for a few days now, so maybe he was wrong. Wouldn’t that be just great to learn that he’d slipped so far he couldn’t even keep himself safe anymore from whoever wanted to walk in?



She looked down, making her white hair slide out from behind her shoulder. “Oh. Right. I’m wearing my body today. That’s what’s different.”



Madoc didn’t have a fucking clue what that meant. “And you weren’t before?”



“No. It was too weak to come with me. It must be better now.” She closed her eyes and ran her hands over her body. She was obviously checking herself for something, and hadn’t meant to give Madoc a sexy show by feeling herself up, but she had anyway.



The sight made him shake with need. He wanted those to be his hands, or at least for her to do that while she was naked. She was teasing him and he didn’t like it one bit. He was going to show her what happened to women who teased.



His cock twitched against the confines of his boxers, and he barely caught himself in time to keep from reaching for her. It took every bit of his strength to lock his feet in place. If he touched her now, he knew how it would end. She would be naked, under him, and he wouldn’t give a shit about whether or not she wanted it. Whether she liked it or not.



He closed his eyes, and it helped him regain enough willpower to speak. “Don’t come here again,” he ordered.



“But I need you, Madoc.”



Her words hit him like a fist in his gut. They drove the air from his lungs and left him floundering for control. He’d spent centuries hoping to hear those words from a female Theronai, but it was too late. She couldn’t save him.



Confusion fogged her blue eyes. She wasn’t sane. She didn’t understand what Madoc wanted to do to her—what she did to him—and he had to stop expecting her to be able to.



He gathered what little patience he could find and forced his voice to be gentle even though the pain raging inside him was anything but. “Nika, you need me to kill the sgath that hold your mind captive. That’s all.”



She moved across the bed, swifter than would have been possible for her in her weakened state. He didn’t expect it, and wasn’t fast enough to evade her grasp. She pressed her hand over his lifemark. Her palm on his bare skin was warm, but that was all. Madoc found himself hoping in vain to feel something—anything—even the slightest shift of the branches of his tree.



The single leaf frozen midway down his torso felt dead under her hand. And, of course, the other fake leaves he’d had tattooed on his chest remained still and lifeless.



She wasn’t his. He knew it. He’d known it since that first night when they’d rescued her from the mental hospital. It was time to move on and stop letting her torture him.



“You’re wrong,” she told him. “I need you. Please don’t send me away.”



He wanted to agree. He wanted to give her everything she’d ever wanted, but he knew better. He wasn’t capable of giving her anything but pain and regret. “I can’t trust myself not to hurt you.”



“I trust you.”



He felt his lip curl in self-disgust. “Then you’re a foolish little girl who deserves whatever she gets.” He lifted her hand from his skin and let it drop, then turned away from her. “Don’t come back again. If you do, I’ll make sure you regret it.”



Zach saw the commotion in the training yard and went to see what was up. He thought about ignoring it so he could get back to Lexi faster, but his sense of duty refused to let him walk away from his brothers. With the wall still vulnerable, he wasn’t taking any chances that whatever was going on out there was more than a testosterone-driven skirmish.



When he cleared the glass doors, he saw Nicholas, Neal and Morgan backing away from someone. Their big bodies shifted enough and he got a glimpse of who that someone was.



Lexi.



She had a barbell in her hands, wielding it like a staff, wearing that same feral expression she’d had on when he’d first met her—the night she’d stabbed him. Lexi the Avenger.



Samuel Larsten was on the ground, holding his scarred hand against his head to slow the bleeding. Nicholas held his hands up, as did Neal and Morgan, but Morgan was grinning like a fool. “She’s feisty,” he said. “I like that.”



A primitive club of jealousy bashed Zach over the head, and he was striding forward before he had a chance to think twice about what he planned to do. With a powerful shove of his palms against the men’s shoulders, Morgan and Neal went flying in opposite directions.



Nicholas dodged his airborne buddies and stepped in front of Lexi as if to protect her. From Zach.



“Out of the way,” growled Zach.



“Not until you’ve cooled off, man,” said Nicholas.



Possessive rage pounded against Zach, heating his blood and making him see red. “She’s mine.”



“Maybe. Maybe not. All I’m saying is that you’re not getting near her until you calm the fuck down.”



The clang of metal hitting concrete rang out from behind Nicholas as the barbell fell from Lexi’s hands. A split second later, she sprinted away, her tennis shoes slapping against the ground.



Zach wasn’t about to let her get away. Not this time.



He bashed into Nicholas with the full force of his weight, rocking the man back on his heels. It was all the room Zach needed to get past, and he broke into a dead run, following Lexi over the rich green grass.



The thrill of the hunt coursed through him, making his blood sing in his veins. Power flooded his limbs and a feral smile stretched his lips. He could run like this for hours and never get tired. Not when he was chasing prey with an ass as pretty as Lexi’s.



He heard footsteps behind him, likely his brothers coming to save her from the big, bad wolf, but he didn’t slow.



She headed for the line of trees shielding several cabins. Not all of the Sentinels liked communal living, and preferred having four walls all their own with no one on the other side. Currently, only two of the cabins were occupied.



He followed her through the trees, keeping the distance between them wide enough she could think she was actually getting away.



Nicholas ran up beside him, having finally caught up. “I can’t let you hurt her,” he said.



“I’m not going to.”



“You need to back off.”



“No. It’s time to end this. I’m out of time, and I’m claiming her while I still have enough of myself left to be gentle about it,” said Zach.



“Are you sure gentle is where your head is right now?”



Zach had been keeping a careful eye on Lexi, but he spared Nicholas a quick glance. The man’s scarred face was puckered with concern. Zach felt a swell of gratitude, knowing his buddy would never let him do anything stupid that might hurt her. “I’m sure.”



Nicholas nodded, keeping pace. “None of us there was compatible. Guess she’s all yours. You’ll understand if I can’t stick around and watch, right?”



Watch Zach get what every man gathered there wanted more than anything—a woman who could save them and allow them to keep fighting the Synestryn. It had been hard watching Drake find Helen, seeing them happy together, holding hands and smiling. He loved Drake like a brother, but the jealousy raging through him had not been fun to suffer. He didn’t wish to inflict that on anyone. “Yeah. Go back and tell the men she’s safe. And to give us some time alone.”