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Vince
The alley is narrow and my clothing snags on the rough brick as I rush through to the other end. Hastily emerging from the shadows, my hoodie’s torn to shreds so I rip it off and leave it. The white Henley stretched tight across my chest has a small tear running across my abs and is stained with blood. That’s what I get from running recklessly through the wooded trails. I’ve already healed, though, and I don’t give a fuck. The scowl on my face, clenched fists, and white-hot anger pouring off me in waves complete the image of a pissed-the-fuck-off werewolf. If I could contain my anger to avoid scaring my mate I would, but I can’t. Four large frames are arranged in a loose semicircle at the end of the alley.
They have her surrounded.
I’ve never felt fear like I do now. Even more so, I’ve never felt rage as I do now.
My fists clench so hard that the skin on my knuckles tears and blood seeps from the self-induced wounds. A low growl of warning rips through my chest, reverberating in the air. All four of them lift their heads immediately, their eyes widening and mouths parting in either shock or an attempt to speak.
I don’t give the fuckers a chance to say a damn thing.
As I hurl my body toward them, I release my wolf, morphing into a beast of violence. Bones contort; fur emerges. The burning sensation and cracking in my ears fuel my desire to destroy. I’m fully wolf before all four paws land on the cold, hard ground. Snarling, I’m only vaguely aware of how this may frighten my mate. This isn’t how I’d planned on meeting her, on telling her who I am and what she means to me.
Regret doesn’t have a moment to linger. For now, I allow the fury to consume every thought and action, consequences be dammed. One of the four assholes attempts to shift, but he’s too slow as I immediately go for his throat. His claws dig into my shoulders, slicing through the tender flesh and scraping at the bone as my jaws sink into his throat, piercing his jugular and causing hot gushes of dirty blood to fill my mouth. I barely feel a damn thing. A low snarl leaves me as his body goes limp and I turn to the other three.
My eyes flicker with shock and then pride as I take in the scene. My sexy mate’s knees are crossed with her thighs wrapped around the neck of a man who must be human, judging by his inability to shift. I don’t have time to question what a human is doing with these werewolves as she flings her body toward the ground, silently and effortlessly. Tossing his large frame in the air, he lands hard on his back with her sitting on his chest. The crack of his bones echoes in the alley as she peeks up at me.
Holy fuck.
My gaze is locked on her as she lashes at his throat, slicing it with a small knife nestled between her knuckles. Her expression is that of a ruthless predator. Her perfectly pinned bun has fallen, leaving her black curls to cascade gently down her back. Confidence and power radiate from her small frame as she turns, still crouched on his chest. Her dark red, plump lips part as she lifts her head and hisses at the remaining shifters, revealing long white fangs that reflect the light of the moon.
The shifters stumble back, mouths gaped, but before they’re able to turn and run she quickly flings her hand outward, sending two blades flying. The first lands in one man’s back, effectively paralyzing him and his limp body instantly sinks to the ground, crashing against the cement. With nothing to break his fall, blood flows freely from his broken nose, pooling around his face. The other blade is lodged in the last shifter’s neck. As his hands fly up to his neck, my mate, my vampire mate, sends more blades darting through the air in a rhythmic dance, pinning his hands to the base of his throat. Blood spurts from his jugular. The sight is violent and bloody, brutal and efficient. As the shifter struggles to breathe, landing hard on his knees and coughing up blood, my mate saunters over casually and twists the knives while ripping them out. His dead eyes stare at nothing as blood forms a puddle around him and his face flattens against the brick.
Noticeably catching her breath, her chest rises and falls and I’m given a moment to admire her. A vampire. My mate is paranormal, not human. There will be so much less to explain.
With dark red blood splattered on her blouse, her heels click as she strides to the other shifter, who’s limp yet conscious. With my hackles settling, I prowl closer, but give her the room she obviously desires. Squatting, my gaze is captured by her leather skirt sliding up her leg, revealing a black lacy garter belt holding up her thigh highs. She is the sight of deadly beauty. Still in wolf form, I groan with lust and desire. I move to shift, but her dark eyes find mine and her lips part as she says,