Wounded Kiss (To Be Claimed 1)

My breathing falters and I immediately feel light-headed. I can’t. I can’t do that to her.

The last thing I hear before my vision goes black is Lizzie’s scream.

Grace

Waking up with a pillow under my head and a soft, warm blanket around me isn’t what I expect when my eyes shoot open. Part of me believes it was all a nightmare until the reality pieces itself together around me. The rumbling of a car is my first clue and with the fine leather under my hand, I know I must be lying across the back seat. After a moment I ascertain that it’s moving fairly quickly and I’m alone in the back of whatever—and whoever’s—vehicle this is. Opening my eyes warily to chance a peek at my surroundings proves that I’m right.

No! My heart races and I can barely breathe.

“I bet he’s pissed,” a darkly spoken voice says in a hushed whisper.

“About not being in this car?” another male voice answers. There’s a pause and then he continues. “The other one hurt herself. He had to stay with her.”

Lizzie. Scrambling to keep still and not panic, I try to recount everything. No, she can’t be hurt, she can’t be. The need to scream out her name is suffocating as I choke on the syllables.

“Do you really think we should have split them up?” a gruff voice asks more casually from the front seat after a quiet moment. I go completely still at the sound. The other man merely snorts in response. Inwardly, I know I need to get a grip. They took me. My heart races. Where’s Lizzie? She can’t be hurt. Please don’t let her be hurt. Tears prick at my eyes, but I will them away. I don’t want the men to hear me crying. I need to be quiet.

“Fuck no we shouldn’t have split them up.” They both let out low, rough chuckles. My body shakes and it takes everything in me to stay still.

“At least we got the calm one.”

“I hope she stays that way. They’ll be settled in a bit and everything will be just fine.”

Through barely opened eyes, I watch the dark figure in the passenger seat nod his head.

“You hear that back there?” My gut wrenches and my breath halts in my lungs. My eyes widen but I instantly shut them and pretend to still be asleep.

“Your heart’s pounding so loud that I’m sure everyone in the car behind us can hear it, Grace.” More rough chuckles follow this statement. I swallow and my sore throat protests the movement. My nails scratch slowly on the seat. They speak as if it’s all a joke. Anger mixes in with the fear but still, terror overrides everything.

I reluctantly open my eyes and the man in the passenger seat looks back at me. I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing I can say comes out as a whisper. “Lizzie?” There’s a pleading in my voice that’s undeniable and I hate it, but I wouldn’t change it.

“She’s fine. She’s in the car behind us with our Alpha. He had to calm her down when none of us could. You have a strong friend.” The man looks at me kindly while he answers me in a reassuring voice. No, not man. The werewolf. I must look ridiculous to him, huddled under the blanket. I grip the fuzzy fabric tighter and break eye contact to stare at the floor.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this, lonely and scared. Helpless and terrified. A while … but I remember how to deal with it. If I got through that, I’ll damn sure get through this.

“I’m going to see my friend again?” I question in a staggered breath and then quickly add, “Soon?”

“Of course,” he says. The answer is immediate, and relief weakens every bit of me. I struggle to keep it together as he continues, “I was going to sit back there with you, but I thought you might like some space.” His tone is light, bordering on friendly. When his stare doesn’t let up, I give a small, hesitant nod in agreement. Gratitude is a funny thing to be feeling at the moment.

“Thought so.” He shifts in his seat, but from my periphery I can tell he’s still watching me. If I wasn’t so terrified, I could think. I could make a plan. As it is, I’m entirely numb.

“You must have some questions.” This time it’s the driver who speaks.

My heart beats once, then twice as the moment passes in silence. “Who are you?” Both of them laugh. Their relaxed manner calms me, if only slightly. If they plan on killing us, they’re quite kind to their prey.

“I’m Lev,” the behemoth riding shotgun answers with a wide smile, “and this is Jude.” No matter how friendly he aims to be, his sheer size is chilling. With a quick motion to the driver, he goes quiet again but offers me a charming, yet tight-lipped smile. I nod my head again and look back at him steadily. Their easygoing manner alleviates my worry a bit more. I sit up ever so slowly, moving against the wishes of my racing heart and letting the blanket drop to my waist.