Un.Bridled (Claimed Series #2) (31 page)

BOOK: Un.Bridled (Claimed Series #2)
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And without another word, Celeste breezed past Hayden and made her way back towards the cabin.

There were too many emotions Hayden tried to grasp, but anger was the easiest to harness. When Cole turned to face her, Hayden prowled over to him and shoved his chest. “You have no reason for not trusting me. I can stand on my own.” 

Hardly moving an inch from her shove, Cole kept his ground. “You were going to agree to her terms. You were going to leave the pack,
my
pack.”

“You don’t know that!” Hayden argued. “You have no idea what I was thinking.”

Instead of firing back, Cole calmly assessed her and continued with equal composure. “I know you better than you think I do.” He frowned and appeared truly disconsolate. “It would be a good opportunity for you if you joined her pack. I can only express how much I need you with us, with me. But if you wanted to leave, I can’t stop you.”

She felt as if the ground opened up beneath her feet. Somehow, his selflessness hurt more than his selfishness. “You aren’t supposed to say that,” she said quietly. “You’re supposed to tell me I can’t leave the pack.”

Cole shook his head. “Why would I do that when you
constantly
do the opposite of what I say?” He didn’t seem angry, just exasperated. “It seems that whenever I tell you to do something, even if it’s for your best interests, you disobey me to show me who’s in charge.”

Hayden’s anger dissolved and her face unscrewed from its scowl. A brief, sad smile crossed her lips before she forced it away. “I guess it happens occasionally.”

“Occasionally,” he repeated in disbelief.

She crossed her arms over her chest and dug her boots in the snow. “I really wasn’t going to accept Celeste’s proposition. I couldn’t leave my family. And besides, having an all-female pack would be a nightmare.” Almost shyly, she looked up at him. “I would miss having you beside me. You’re someone I can always lean on for support. Someone who can build me back up again.”

Small wrinkles appeared at the corners of Cole’s eyes, wrinkles of contentment and satisfaction. He raised his arm and held his hand out to her. “The feeling will always be mutual.”

Hayden placed her hand in his. His larger hand enclosed entirely over hers and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He drew her closer, escorting her back to the cabin with their hands locked firmly together.

“No matter what you may believe, I did not come out here because I didn’t trust you.” Cole glanced at her sidelong. “You were distressed, almost fearful.”

It took her a moment to comprehend his admission, even longer to remember what had caused her to feel emotions that were strong enough to alert Cole through their link.

Knowing she couldn’t lie to him, but acknowledging that he would be beyond furious, Hayden extracted her hand from his hold and kept a fair bit of distance. “I saw Nicolas.”

Cole came to a sudden halt and turned to her, searching her face as if he couldn’t quite figure out if she was joking or not. “Nicolas. You saw Nicolas?” At her nod of confirmation, he grew practically animalistic. “Why didn’t you tell me first thing?”

“It slipped my mind,” she defended, trying to offset his anger by keeping calm.

His eyes widened comically before he snarled in her face. “How could it have possibly slipped your mind? We’re in this situation because of him! You should have alerted us as soon as you saw him.”

Hayden wanted to take a step backward and lower her head in submission, but somehow, she kept her footing. “He didn’t seem to be a threat.” Trying to explain this to an enraged Cole would be impossible, almost laughable. “He looked… he didn’t look good, Cole.”

At her admittance, Cole appeared conflicted over whether to be amused or delirious with anger. “That is what happens after two years in the wild. Your persistence to see him as a misunderstood hero truly troubles me.”

Cole’s eyes suddenly narrowed, as if overcome with blinding fury. This time, Hayden did take a step back, terrified at his hostile aura. As he made a sudden move towards her, Hayden’s entire body flinched. He’d never laid a hand on her out of anger, but today was the exception.

His heavy palms struck her shoulders, violently shoving her away. Hayden grunted at the force, stumbling backwards before falling in the snow. Upon impact, her body hunched submissively, preparing for another attack. When it didn’t come, her eyes glimpsed cautiously up at Cole. 

Her disbelief abruptly vanished when she saw a small dart lodged into the thick column of Cole’s throat. The black-haired Alpha growled lowly, hurriedly pulling it from his skin and tossing it away after a quick inspection. His features were drawn dangerously, nearly transforming him into a man she hardly recognized.

When a figure threw itself from the surrounding trees, Hayden realized Cole had pushed her away to defend her, not attack her. Yet, it wouldn’t have mattered. The rogue flung himself at Cole with such a single-minded
intensity, he probably wouldn’t have paid her much attention anyway.

Hayden scraped her heels against the snow, scrambling to get up as another man came leaping through the woods at Cole. The first man was unrecognizable to her. He had dark hair and such a large, intimidating build that even Cole looked small compared to him.

The second man, however, was easily distinguishable. With his long, tawny hair and mismatched eyes, Tracer was a man not many would forget. At her Sire’s presence, Hayden felt her knees go weak; her wolf eager to comply at her master’s every last whim.

Hastily pushing the urge aside, Hayden grabbed her bow and arrow, unable to stop her trembling hands. She watched as Cole got a good punch past Tracer’s defenses, catching the man across the face. But his fist sounded as if it hit something far more solid than flesh.

Veiled surprise clouded Cole’s features when Tracer retaliated with a fist to his stomach. The air audibly left Cole’s lungs and his entire body seemed to fold around the fist in his abdomen. From the sound alone, Hayden knew it was no ordinary punch. Usually, Cole could take a hit or two, but this…

A chuckle sounded from the tree line. “Good work. I’m sure you can get in a few good hits before the sedative takes effect. Slayter is as defenseless as a pup.”

Hayden turned, staring in disbelief as the platinum-blond rogue, Evan, announced his presence. The man’s vindictively amused grin stretched the thin skin around his cheeks, making him look almost skeletal. He watched in glee as they bombarded Cole, eager for his chance to join in the fun.

Tears prickled her eyes as Cole struggled. He fought valiantly, impressively against rogues who were clearly enhanced physically. Their punches were unforgiving and vicious. Hayden winced at each blow. It was if she experienced each hit alongside Cole. She could feel his pain, his frustration.

Watching Cole land to his knees, bleeding and defeated, was like watching a cherished hero fall.

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

Fueled with rage, Hayden drew her bow and fired an arrow at the thick, nameless brute. For just learning the basics, her arrow flew true. The tip of it embedded briefly into the man’s neck before slipping away like butter.

Blood fountained from his neck, sprinkling droplets down across Cole’s already bloodied and bruised face. The rogue growled, cupping a hand to his neck as if it were a minor annoyance. Before the nameless rogue could turn to her, Cole kicked his legs out from underneath him.

Possessing a surprising amount of grace and energy for being sedated and beaten, Cole leaped from the ground and met the falling rogue halfway. The uppercut he delivered carried with it all his pent-up frustration and anger. It was enough to crack the man’s jaw.

Just as Cole was about to deliver a kick, he faltered, stumbling backward and trying to catch himself from falling. He blinked furiously and swayed on his feet, the sedative in his system presumably taking effect.

“Hayden wants to play too!” Evan cried excitingly.

“You’re all pathetic.
Three against one?” Wanting nothing more than to sob at the dire situation, Hayden nocked another arrow and quickly released it. She could easily collapse in sorrow over Cole’s deteriorating condition, but she had the burning need to protect him.

The arrow flew at Evan and the blond rogue simply walked into its path, the tip embedding in his chest. He plucked it out merrily, running a hand down his bloodied chest. The wound began to heal quickly, quickly even for werewolf standards.

With the arrow held loosely in his fingers, Evan considered Hayden. “Not as effective as your knives, are they?” He winked before hurling the arrow at her, managing a straight, fast aim without the use of a bow. 

Hayden dropped, bracing her weight on her hands as the arrow soared just inches above her head. When it passed, she pushed herself back to her feet, her fingers grabbing the abandoned dart that had pierced Cole earlier. If there was sedative left, maybe she could take down at least one rogue.

With the sedative rendering Cole useless, the rogues moved on to the next source of entertainment. Her. After watching their harassment of Cole, Hayden knew she had to avoid physical contact. If one punch could damage Cole, who was usually immune to attacks from ordinary werewolves, then Hayden didn’t stand much of a chance.

As they made a move to grab her, Hayden dodged. She sidestepped, twirled, ducked, and spun around their grasping hands, looking for her opening. The nameless brute and Evan were undoubtedly the most difficult targets. Tracer was more familiar to her, more of a feat.

Switching the dart into her left hand, Hayden lashed out at Tracer with her right hand.


Stop.

His voice reverberated through her head and made her world buckle and blur. Her legs began to shake with effort to remain standing. All she wanted to do was fall to her knees in compliance. It was a difficult whim to challenge.

Predictably, he stopped her oncoming hand by curling his fingers around her right wrist. The grin he sent her dripped with so much smugness, it was enough to break through Hayden’s narrow concentration.

She offered him her own grin before plunging the tranquilizing dart into his neck with her free hand. His eyes widened comically and he lashed out, punching her in the abdomen.

It was the same hit Cole took earlier and Hayden wondered how he could have possibly continued moving afterward. The oxygen left her and the pain was excruciating. Even if she needed to inhale, the shooting agony that accompanied it prevented her from doing so.

Landing on the ground, she gradually rolled on to her stomach and focused on staying conscious. There had to be a few broken ribs. The pain would never be this severe. Small pants escaped her lips as she tried to take in the oxygen, but nothing seemed to be enough.

A soft hiss sounded next to her, causing Hayden to turn her head marginally. Cole was crouched near her, his eyes half-lidded and ready to close momentarily. Yet, he refused to admit defeat. And somehow, despite looking dead on his feet, his eyes managed to carry burning concentration.

“The pack, Hayden,” Cole rasped quietly. “Find them. Protect them.”

Hayden gave a small, dry sob, causing her ribs to sear in pain. He had no idea how much those words shattered her. He had no idea how much his shame saddened her. Cole had no reason to feel ashamed. He’d done everything in his power.

She didn’t understand what they wanted. It was clear they wanted Cole alive, but what would they do with him?
To her?

The nameless brute marched over, clearly intending to knock Cole unconscious for once and for all. In a last ditch effort, Hayden reached into her coat and pulled out a knife. As the rogue stepped
in front of Cole, intent to deliver a heeled-kick to his face, Hayden stabbed the knife into his calf muscle.

A roar echoed across the forest and the beast-like man whirled on Hayden. She gazed up at him blankly, too distraught to care, and too hurt to move.

“You
bitch
.” His hands grabbed her throat, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.

There were warnings coming from Tracer and Evan, warnings not to kill her. And vaguely, she was aware of Cole making one last effort to defend her. But the hand around her throat tightened and gave a firm shake, effectively breaking her neck.

This time, she did stop breathing.

All she was aware of was blissful unconsciousness.

Hours seemed to pass while she laid in the empty silence of oblivion. It wasn’t until calloused hands touched her neck when she came back to consciousness. The hands settled on her head before twisting it abruptly, breaking her neck a second time. But this time was different. The hands that grabbed her face were firm and calm, not full of hate. The direction her neck snapped was also natural, as if the hands were trying to put it back in proper place.

It certainly made it easier to breathe. And think.

Her eyes fluttered open as the hands roamed down her chest and cupped her ribs. With speed and efficiently only an expert could possess, her savior dug his fingers into her ribcage and snapped her improperly healed ribs back into place.

The man who stood above her had familiar black hair, long and unruly. The beard was familiar, though it seemed longer than its usual stubble length.

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