Feral：Devils Point Wolves #4(17)

"They already know too much. If we let them go it puts the whole pack at risk."

She jumped forward and grasped his shirt. "There has to be another way."

He could hear the fear in her voice and he didn't like it. He wanted to end this the only way he knew how—with blood.

“He’s right. Alive these men will never keep their mouths shut.”

“Can’t you just capture them? Maybe they could be useful for information or something,” Prue argued.

Brody traded glances with Sawyer who shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe,” he said. “If nothing else Dante could decide their fate.”

Brody tightened his grip around his uncle’s neck as he keened in agony. It went against everything he believed in to let them go. If anyone knew his family like he did they would certainly agree.

As if to take the decision out of his hands, Sawyer grabbed the guns from the other two men and threw them into the ocean. “Only pussies need guns.”

“Fuck you.” One of the men made the mistake of spitting in Sawyer’s face. Brody held his breath for a second.

“Prue, get the fuck behind me right now!”

“Why?” She turned back to Sawyer who was circling his prey.

“Prue!” he yelled, deepening his tone.

Thank God his message got through when she stomped through the sand until she was a safe distance away and no longer in between him and the rest of the hunters.

“What’s it going to be boys? You going to cooperate or am I going to gut him?”

Brody’s uncle grunted at the question, his only option with claws piercing his vocal chords.

“We aren’t doing shit for wolves. Go ahead and kill him. You’ll have the entire community so far up your ass before you can say thank you.”

Brody growled, his claws moving slowly through vulnerable flesh.

“Brody no!” Prue screamed. Distracted, he turned to check on his mate, giving the hunters the split second they needed to attack.

He saw Prue scream a millimeter before a steel toed boot connected with his head. His grip on his uncle loosened enough for him to yank free without losing his throat.

Brody’s head exploded in pain and he fell face first in the sand. In the seconds it took him to regain his equilibrium, the two hunters attacked Sawyer and the three of them were fighting to the death.

His uncle on the other hand, he knew the exact way to take Brody down and it had nothing to do with killing him. The bastard went after Prue, grabbing her by the hair and spinning her around until the knife he seemingly pulled out of thin air rested at her throat.

“Another inch and she bleeds out on the beach.” The hoarse, sand paper sound of his uncle’s voice sent him over the edge. Between the blood flowing from the man’s neck and the torn vocal chords, he was already dead and Brody would be damned before he allowed him to take Prue along for the ride.

“Let her go.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me? That ship has sailed, but I can do this one last thing before I go. Payback is a bitch isn’t it?”





Chapter Eight





The blade dug into Prue’s skin and the fear flooding her senses morphed into determination. She was not going to die like this. In a lightning move that called on every self defense class she’d ever taken, she slammed her forearm against the arm wielding the knife and knocked it away just long enough to swing her arm up and shove the palm of her hand up into the old man’s chin.

It only bought her a few seconds but it gave her the chance to turn and run and enough time for Brody to reach them. With her back to the fighting she ran as fast as her out of shape legs would allow, ignoring the snarls and sounds of the men behind her.

Violence like this had only been in her life once and it felt eerily similar. Except the man coming to her rescue was the animal versus the other way around. When she heard a sharp crack, she fell to the sand immobilized by the assault of memories of the bear mauling her father to death in front of her. The blood and screams of her father telling her to run as loud today as they were then.

She covered her ears and tried to wipe the sound from her mind. But she knew better. Nothing ever could take it away. Death never went away.

“Prue, baby, it’s okay. You’re safe.” Arms were trying to wrap around her and lift her from the ball she’d curled into and she wanted none of it. She fought and kicked and punched until Brody released her and backed off.

“Prue, Goddammit. Calm down. You’re safe.”

“Am I?” she fired back. “You’re not human, Brody. That’s not normal.”

He dropped down in the sand next to her and blew out a hard breath. “I know. Believe me I know. For your sake I wish I was normal.”