Tall, Silent & Lethal (Pyte/Sentinel 4)

“What if she calls someone to ask for money or a place to stay?” Brock asked as he waited for Aidan to unlock the door and open it.

Aidan, smiling more than he had in years, simply shook his head. “She cuts everyone out of her life as soon as she moves on. When she realizes that she has no income or money in the bank, she’ll have no choice but to accept what I’m willing to offer her.”

Her place in his Pack and in his bed.

His c**k hardened painfully at the memory of the last time that he’d had her. Her wet, willing pu**y clenching tightly around him as he took her from behind while he’d licked the marks that he’d left on her all those years ago. He’d waited a long time for her to ripen and it had been worth it.

The only thing that he regretted was not being the one who’d taken her virginity, but he’d known then that if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would have marked her again as he forced his blood down her throat, forcing her into his Pack and making her able to take him without the risk of breaking her fragile human body before she was ready. She’d been too young then and would have fought him, and as much as he loved a good fight, he didn’t want to take the risk of ruining that beautiful body of hers any more than was necessary.

Soon she’d be able to take him, all of him, and he would finally be able to let go and enjoy her without holding back, he promised himself as he opened the door and headed down the dimly lit staircase, absently adjusting the tent in his pants as he went. The sounds of muttered whimpering met his ears as he stepped into the large room that he’d had specially made for those nights when his Pack couldn’t get out of the city and away from the watchful eyes of the Sentinels.

“Please!” the young woman he’d had his men chain to the wall only a few hours ago pleaded around her gag.

Sighing in annoyance, Aidan reached over and yanked the gag out the woman’s mouth since the muttered noises would only irritate him. True, his men could have removed the gag and allowed the woman to scream her head off without worry that she would alert the customers dining above them, but then they would have chanced her screaming until her throat was raw and she was unable to answer his questions.

Not that he had many, not after he’d gone through his records for the past three weeks since she’d been hired to wait tables. The only thing that he didn’t know, and cared about, was where his money was. He wasn’t poor, far from it, but that didn’t mean that he was willing to look the other way when someone stole from him.

He couldn’t afford to show weakness, not with his Pack watching his every move, looking for a sign of weakness. Like most Alphas, he was very strict with his Pack. He didn’t tolerate defiance on any level, because that would only lead to chaos among his Pack. It would give them ideas that they didn’t need him, could ignore his commands, or worse, that they should get rid of him and welcome another Alpha to lead his Pack.

Since he had a low tolerance for bullshit and had no intentions of allowing another shifter to take over his Pack, he ruled with an iron fist. He had a three-strike system, one that his Pack understood and followed. Unless they severely pissed him off, he gave them three chances to stay on his good side.

The first time they f**ked up, he forced them to spend the three nights of the full moon in a small metal box, just big enough for them to shift. It was pure hell for any shifter not to be able to run and hunt on the nights of the full moon, but not being able to do anything more than breathe was a form of hell that he made damn sure that all of his Pack experienced at least once.

The second time they f**ked up, he had them placed in a box, much smaller than the first so that when they shifted, their bones would dislocate and as they continued to expand, they would break, one by one, leaving the shifter in agonizing pain. They’d suffer the same torment for three nights until the third morning when they shifted back to human for the last time.

Then he, still in shifted form, would drag the offender out by using his fangs. While the rest of the pack was still experiencing the high of a shift, he would teach them a new lesson that they would never forget. If they earned a third strike…..

Well, not many earned a third strike and those that did never lived to regret it.

“Please let me go!” the young woman pleaded between choked sobs as she yanked at her chains.

“Where’s my money?” he simply asked as he reached down and pulled off one shoe.

“I-I d-don’t know what you’re talking about!” she cried, but the way that she yanked at her chains and her tone became panicked said otherwise.

“Where’s my money?” he asked again as he reached down and pulled off the other shoe. He scented the air, noting the scent of adrenaline pouring into her bloodstream. It awakened the beast inside of him, making him hunger for a taste.

“I-I don’t have it!” she cried, the scent of her fear tripling as he pulled off his socks and pants.

“Where is it?” he asked, taking his shirt off and leaving him in a pair of boxer shorts that encased the evidence of his thoughts about Cloe.

The young woman’s eyes landed on his drawers and stayed there only to shift to his erection when he yanked the boxers down low enough so that he could kick them off.

“I-I spent it all, but I can pay you back! I swear that I’ll pay you back! Please just let me go!” she begged, sobbing hysterically.

Aidan gave her a small smile as he walked over to where she sat on the metal floor. He crouched down in front of her, tilting his head to the side as he reached out and ran a finger down her jaw. She flinched back as though he’d struck her, which was pretty f**king insulting since he’d never hit a woman in his life. Tearing one apart with his fangs and claws…..

Well, that was an entirely different story altogether.

“Now, what kind of message would that send to my Pack if I let you go?” he asked with a tsk as he allowed his eyes to shift silver and his fangs to descend.

She opened her mouth, probably to beg him for another chance only to release a blood chilling scream as the finger that he was tracing down her jaw suddenly sprouted a claw, leaving a trail of blood behind as he moved his hand down to her throat.

“Now,” he said, pausing as his hand shifted into something out of a horror movie, “you were telling me where my money was?”

Chapter 17

“Oh my God, you’re insane,” Cloe said, sounding frustrated as she rubbed her hands down her face.