Suddenly she laughed, a real, belly laugh. He stilled like a cobra ready to strike. "Oh my god. I just realized something. This is all because you can't take being dumped. God, you are pathetic!"

It was probably the wrong thing to say. Even after he plunged a knife into her thigh, burning his own hand in the process, she laughed.

Slices and cuts peppered her skin. The coppery smell of blood mixed with her vanilla scent turning it into a vile concoction.

Her torso and thighs looked like someone had splattered lines of red paint over her. Her sense of time seemed to be suspended. The cuts hurt, each dip into her a hot burn that seared through her with biting pain. But after about a dozen or so, she found she could focus back on her happy thoughts.

She retracted her mind from the present, from the monster sweating above her with a scalpel. He dug in particularly deep in her side and she gasped, unable to hide it. She could practically feel his excitement...could smell his arousal.

A foggy mumbling registered in her brain. The monster was talking.

"Did you like my letters I sent you?"

Numb silence except for the hiss of her skin splintering.

She shouldn't, but the question burned inside her. "Why did you do it? Why did you jerk off on my bed?" She looked at him, fury shaping her features.

He actually looked away, red tinting his cheeks. Then it was gone and he was grinning, a bold hand cupped her sex. "What can I say? I'm a man baby. I came over to see what you were up to. Then I saw those tussled bed sheets and realized just how much I missed you. You always did have such a sweet little body, Ali. You used to hold me so tight when I fucked you."

She nearly spit at him. Would have if her throat didn’t hurt didn’t feel like her tonsils had been ripped out. "I never came. Not much of a man you are, Conlin. More like a pathetic excuse for a child. Humans can fuck better than you can. I laid with you because I cared for you, not out of pleasure."

She pulled back at the rage that contorted his features. His hands were white fists, his shoulders tightly bunched muscle. He shifted then his fist plowed into her face. He didn't stop, either. She lost count at twelve.

Tightening her will, she imagined Rome coming to her rescue. Maybe someone would find out she was gone. Perhaps Sarina called her and got worried when she didn't answer. Perhaps, Rome would sweep in like a furious lykaen mate, ready to fight to protect his woman. Even as his knife struck her, her heart panged. She wanted to be his so badly. If she made it away from Conlin she wouldn't let her fears keep her from having what she wanted.

Wow, great time to decide that.

Rome waited outside of the mansion. Nighttime was creeping in, the sun going down and casting the world into oranges and pinks. The team gathered around him. Their pace made snails look fast.

He couldn't stop the growl that came out of his throat, or the power of his beast rushing through him. He was stronger in this form and thirsted for blood. Conlin's blood. He would tear the man's throat out with his teeth.

The Alpha's order was the only thing keeping him in place, keeping him from ripping through the house and tearing anyone who so much as crossed his path into pieces. Vane and his siblings looked like they were going to war wearing guns, knives, and Kevlar vests.

Jacks pushed a vest into his chest. He growled menacingly at his once friend. The man's jaw tightened. He looked contrite, ashamed, but that didn't matter. They'd taken his woman and Jacks could have helped.

Unable to control his able, he needed to lash out at something—anything.

"What were you doing when I called you?"

Jacks glared back at his friend, his jaw clenching from side to side. "You have your problems and I have mind. Let's just leave it at that."

"I have a problem because you weren't here doing your job."

"Maybe you should have been guarding your woman when you knew Conlin was after her instead of going to work like it was a normal fucking Monday."

Rome's fist shot out and caught Jack's jaw. The human stumbled back a step but righted himself. On most people that hit would have sent him flying ten feet. Jacks always did have a jaw of steal.

"I'll let you have that free one because I fucked up. You know how I feel about making mistakes."

Rome breathed deeply, taking calming breaths. That shit didn't work. He was more jacked up then if he'd been on crack.

"I thought Vera was a fighter. Where is she?" Rome frowned at the change in subject. He put on his Kevlar before answering.

"She's incapacitated. She was staying in the guest cabin. They ambushed her, and killed two of our guards before taking Alison."

Jacks tensed. "Is she all right?"

Vane stepped forward looking like he belonged on the cover of a military magazine with his Kevlar, sidearm, belt holding mace, a tazer, and God knows what else. "She's fine. We're ready to go."

His older brother Darien was here too. His brother never talked anymore. Rome remembered a time when his brother smiled, laughed, joked. Something had died in him with that woman with that baby. Darien’s problems were his own though.

Rome took a deep breath and nodded. "Execute."

Darien and Vane took off towards the mansion while Rome and Jacks took the right. They flanked around the side of the house to the backdoor, and took out two guards before they had time to use their Walky-talkies.

Rome smashed through the back door, raising his two guns and drilling bullets at the guards.

"Upstairs." Rome could smell her. His heart was a hard drum beating in his chest. The scents of blood and vanilla sent his beast into a full rage. He didn’t feel anything about killing these guards. Had no thoughts as to innocence or guilt.

They made their way through the house. Guards swarmed out of the living room. Rome lost his guns in a tangle of limbs and kicks. He roared and threw the two thugs off him, slamming them into the wall.

The first thug recovered quickly, tore a knife out of his belt, and lunged at him. Rome dodged the blow, grabbed the man's wrist, and snapped it until bone cracked. The man howled and Rome drove his fist into his face with all the strength in him. Blood spattered and bones broke under the force. The man collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.

Rome surveyed the area and saw Vane and Darien tying up their catch.

Darien looked up at him. Something in his eyes said he understood. "Proof for the Justicars. We need them alive." Rome didn't look at the man whose face was now unrecognizable. He didn't care.

The scent of vanilla and blood, her blood, was stronger now. He charged up the stairs. Someone shouted his name behind him, but it sounded faraway over the screaming roar in his head. Following her scent, he turned right where it grew stronger. He stopped at the door at the far end of the hall. He turned the knob, his heart in his throat, it didn't budge. He roared, the door vibrating in its frame with the force of its power and then slammed his booted foot into the wood. It splintered and shattered apart.

He flew into the room, but caught sight of Alison and Conlin and stopped dead in his tracks. Cold fear mixed with rage making him even more deadly. His hands fisted, his arms shaking with the force to keep from acting.

"Alison, baby." His voice a mere croak.

She turned to him from her tied up position, her naked body bleeding with open cuts. The blade that Conlin was holding to her neck, slipped into her skin with the movement. A line of red streaked across her neck.