“No,” Chris said firmly, his gaze locked on the man starting to shift towards her.

He cocked the gun in warning, making her breath catch as her hands shot to cover her stomach in a hopeless attempt to protect her baby. “Please,” she whispered as her eyes watered, terrified of losing the precious gift that Christofer had given her.

“Put the gun down,” Ephraim said as he stepped into the room.

“I can’t,” the man in front of her said, licking his lips nervously as Caine slowly climbed in through the window, his murderous red glare locked on the man holding the gun. “I have my orders.”

“And what orders would those be?” Ephraim said, moving to step further into the room, but the intent expression the man in front of her had stopped him and every other man in the room as they realized that there was a chance that they wouldn’t get to her in time.

“Retrieve the Alpha’s property,” he said, his expression resolved as he shifted his attention back on her.

“And when you fail to do that?” Chris demanded. “Because you have to know that you’re not leaving this room alive if you hurt her or the baby.”

He didn’t answer, but then again, she didn’t need him to. The way he looked at her said it all. They both knew that she wouldn’t die, but the baby could. Her body would reject the fetus in order to repair itself and he knew that, had anticipated it and now, it seemed as though he was willing to sacrifice his own life to make that happen.

“Cloe,” the man said softly, “I’m sorry.”

She opened her mouth to scream, to beg him not to do it, anything, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a choked gasp as he pulled the trigger. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw all three men move, desperate to get between her and the bullet speeding towards her, but it was pointless. No matter how fast they were, the bullet was faster. She sent up a prayer for her unborn child as she waited for the impact from the bullet, but it never came.

At least, not for her.

With a roar, Christofer surged to his feet, jumping in front of the bullet meant for their child and stumbled back in time with the sound of the gunshot exploding in the large bedroom. Blindly, she reached out to grab Christofer as he started to fall, but she never got the chance as a large body from her right tackled her, bringing her to the floor only to shift midair to take the impact and protect her.

She barely had the chance to gasp when Ephraim snatched her out of Chris’ arms, tucked her against his body and flashed them out of the room. She moved to close her eyes in attempt to fight the dizzying effect on her stomach, but before she did, she saw him, standing in the hallway, eyes turned liquid silver with fangs that looked deadlier than Christofer’s.

It was then that she decided never to cross Kale Quinn.

Chapter 63

“Just kill me!” the shifter demanded as he dropped to his knees, the gun falling from his hands. “Fucking do it!”

“Cloe,” Christofer rasped, his unseeing eyes shifting desperately around the room for his mate as he struggled to get up, but one look at him and Caine knew the man wasn’t getting up for a while.

At least, not unless he fell into bloodlust and then they’d really have their hands full.

“She’s fine,” Chris promised as he jumped to his feet, his gaze never leaving the shifter kneeling before them.

“What are we going to do with him?” Caine asked, gesturing towards the shifter as he kicked the gun away.

“He’s mine,” Kale announced as he walked into the room, looking every bit the deadly mercenary that he was rumored to be.

Kale had the shifter by the neck and slammed against the wall before Caine could blink. When he pulled the shifter back and slammed him back against the wall he destroyed it in the process.

“You f**king dared to play me?” Kale snarled, getting into the shifter’s face.

The shifter didn’t say anything, didn’t fight, didn’t struggle, just stood there waiting for Kale to tear his throat out. Caine couldn’t help but frown at the sight before him. For someone hell-bent on kidnapping Cloe or the very least, killing her unborn child, he’d done a shitty job of it.

He’d snuck into a house filled with predators and gone after his prey with her overprotective mate in the room. If he’d been smart, he would have watched the house and waited for Cloe to leave unaccompanied before he made his move. He sure as hell wouldn’t have stopped with just one bullet. He would have kept firing that gun until he’d ensured his duty was done. Instead, the shifter had fired once, dropped his arm by his side and waited for their retribution.

“What exactly was it about my f**king sunny disposition that made you think that I would overlook being f**ked with?” Kale snarled, his voice guttural and the closest that Caine had ever seen the annoying shifter coming to losing control.

“Do it,” the shifter gasped.

“I want to know who gave the order to go after my property,” Kale demanded, making Caine frown with confusion. He shot Chris a look only to find the Sentinel looking equally confused. As far as they knew, Kale had no marked humans. He didn’t bother with humans, most of the time acting as though they didn’t exist.

“You know the answer,” the shifter bit out, meeting Kale’s silver-eyed glare with one of his own.

“Everything was a set up?” Kale demanded, looking seriously pissed.

“Yes!” the shifter hissed.

“Was it your Alpha’s idea, Brock?” Kale asked, shoving the shifter back into the wall.

“Yes,” Brock bit out, looking tortured. “Now f**king do it!’

Kale cocked his head to the side in an appraising manner as he studied the shifter. “Why the rush to die? Do you fear that your Alpha will do worse to you for failing?”

“He will do worse if I live,” Brock bit out.

Frowning, Kale looked down. Caine followed the shifter’s gaze and swore when he saw the mated mark on Brock’s wrist.

“He threatened your mate?” Kale concluded, returning his attention to Brock.

Brock looked away as he answered, “Yes.”

“Any children?” Caine found himself asking.

“No,” Brock croaked, looking miserable. “We’re not allowed to have children in our Pack.”

Meaning that there was a good chance that this man’s mate had been forced to endure an abortion at least once. Pack life could be seriously f**ked up, especially with an Alpha sick enough to mark a fourteen-year-old girl, Caine thought with disgust.

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
Source: www.StudyNovels.com
Articles you may like