“Better than the runt you bonded with.”
His fangs extended, and his clawed hands clenched and unclenched. “Don’t call her that.”
“I’ll allow you time with your little wolf if you agree to our new drug trials.”
“Let her go, and I’ll do as you say.”
“Must I spell it out? You have no choice! Cooperate, and she’ll live.”
“How will I know if you give me a werewolf lobotomy?”
“Modified werewolf lobotomy. You will know you are human and wolf. Superior. The true master race. Once you join our fold, you and the little wolf will attend our rally.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Slade snarled.
“Lucky for her, Jack wants her. A worthy reward for the human instrumental in your capture.”
“No experiments.”
“Agreed. Unless, you betray me.” He chuckled. “Why experiment on her anyway? All I need is a sample of her DNA.” He tilted his head and gazed with focus. “I must find out how she survived the change.” He turned his attention back to Slade. “Although would a vivisection be more revealing?”
Slade’s chest tightened. He’d jump in fire if need be to stop the mad scientist from cutting her open. Better to concede until they found an escape and possibly rescue the unchanged ones. He hoped the drug wouldn’t work on him. “Very well. I’ll go with you.”
“Wonderful. She’ll be brought to you in the morning. You can breakfast together.”
He gritted his teeth and lowered his head. “Thank you, sir.” Would that be the last time he’d remember her? No. Life without her didn’t seem possible. Yet, if they ever returned home, she’d be nothing more than a team mate. No future for them.
Wolfstrom paused. “Oh dear, where are my manners? Locked in your cage, you might get bored.” A monitor screen flicked on. “Here’s tonight’s entertainment.”
Jack leaned against the door. A sick grin on his face as Cricket opened her small suitcase and took out a nightshirt. “I said, strip!”
Slade’s lips curled, and his fangs extended. “Turn it off!” He shifted to wolf form and roared. He bit into the bar and shook the cage with his maw. The screen went blank or rather white.
Jack must have draped a towel over the camera.
I still know what you are doing, asshole. Trapped. He threw back his head and howled in blood rage.
Cricket sloughed her clothes and waited on the bed. Never going to moan in pleasure for you, asshole.
A howl pierced the air. “Slade.”
“He saw us.” No wonder Jack covered the camera. She wrapped the bed sheet about her.
“He can still hear us.” Jack sneered. “Wolfstrom will break him one way or another.”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, but Slade is coming for you.” That is if anything is left after I’m done with you.
“He’s locked i
n.” Jack killed the lights, then naked crawled over her and pressed his hand over her mouth. Instead of mounting her, he shoved the paper in front of her eyes and waited. His arousal evident, but no forceful penetration.
Huh? What did he expect her to read? Some grocery list of what he planned on doing to her?
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and widened as she read his scribble: Must stop their doomsday bioweapon.
Cricket stared at him and he nodded, then he slowly peeled off his fingers as if he worried she'd say the wrong thing or scream.
He continued the act, dry humping her. “I don’t rape, but I will pleasure you.”