Dirk’s face a bloody mess.
“I was hoping I’d get the honor of ending your life.” Dirk
barked, blood seeping between his teeth. With a roll he threw Devon off of him.
Devon hit the wall and quickly jumped to his feet. Dirk had
several inches on him, which was no easy feat since he was close to six feet
himself.
“Not going to happen,” Devon remarked, curling his lip. He
locked in his fighting stance, ready to strike at Dirk’s first movement.
Dirk wiped a smear of blood from his nose as he glared at
Devon. “Did you really think you could out run Emmett?”
“Do you really think Emmett gives a shit about you?”
“I’m going to enjoy killing you. Then I’ll drag your body
back for Emmett to see.” Dirk lunged at him.
Ducking out of the way, Devon grabbed Dirk’s arm, and shoved
him down into his knee. As Dirk stumbled back, Devon followed up with a hard right
hook to the jaw.
Dirk swung again and Devon jumped to the right. With a quick
twist of his body Devon punched Dirk in the face, his nose crunching beneath
his knuckles. Gripping Dirk’s neck, he twisted a sickening crack sliced through
the air. He released Dirk and watched him fall lifelessly to the floor with a
deafening thud.
Devon took a step back; a swirl of emotions filled him as he
stared at the man he’d just killed. He’d only killed once before, but it had
been self defense. It didn’t stop the guilt from creeping into him though.
A gurgling sound drew his attention away from the body. He
turned in time to see Michael’s unconscious form slide down the wall to the
floor. Devon didn’t know much about Michael. He always gave the impression he
followed out of fear rather than loyalty.
Crouching down, he surveyed the
other wolf, touching his pulse point. A thrum met his fingers. Zip ties poked
out of his pocket. Devon grabbed the ties and bound Michael’s unconscious hands
around the solid metal of the bakery case leg.
Satisfied there was no immediate
danger, his attention shifted to Lark. Her breathing remained even. Devon
stabilized her body, carefully rolling her over.
Blood coated the collar of her
shirt and smeared across her cheek. Her bottom lip was split and a tiny trail
of red dribbled down her chin. Lowering his gaze, he examined the rest of her. A
splatter of blood covered her hand but it didn’t smell like it belonged to her.
Teeth gritted, he carefully moved
her matted hair from her forehead.
“No,” Lark yelped, fear flooding
her voice. A warm hand wrapped tightly around his wrist and pushed him away.
Devon flicked his gaze to Lark’s. Her
blue eyes blinked furiously, panic over ran her normally calm face. Quickly he
removed his hands while she struggled to sit up.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. Take
it easy, you hit your head.” As gentle as possible, he placed his hands on her
shoulders to keep her from sitting up too quickly.
Wild blue eyes locked on his, her
efforts to sit stopped. “What, what happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Devon asked
concerned. How hard had she hit her head? Did she have a concussion?
Her brows scrunched together. “They
attacked me. Where did they go?” Lark’s arm gripped the table leg as she tried
to get up again.
“It’s okay, they’re taken care of,”
Devon kept his tone even, eyes locked with hers. Her pupils appeared normal. “Are
you alright?” He wanted to touch her face, but wasn’t sure how well the action
would be received.
Lark sucked in a deep breath. Tears
pooled in her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled. Devon ground his teeth; he
hated seeing her like this. Her hand went to her head gingerly patting the
large knot forming. She pulled back and looked at her crimson hand. It began to
shake violently.
Devon clasped her bloodied hand to
regain her attention. The last thing he needed was for her to freak out. “It’s
not that bad. A few stitches at most. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Lark blinked, as a tear rolled from
her eye and
“I was hoping I’d get the honor of ending your life.” Dirk
barked, blood seeping between his teeth. With a roll he threw Devon off of him.
Devon hit the wall and quickly jumped to his feet. Dirk had
several inches on him, which was no easy feat since he was close to six feet
himself.
“Not going to happen,” Devon remarked, curling his lip. He
locked in his fighting stance, ready to strike at Dirk’s first movement.
Dirk wiped a smear of blood from his nose as he glared at
Devon. “Did you really think you could out run Emmett?”
“Do you really think Emmett gives a shit about you?”
“I’m going to enjoy killing you. Then I’ll drag your body
back for Emmett to see.” Dirk lunged at him.
Ducking out of the way, Devon grabbed Dirk’s arm, and shoved
him down into his knee. As Dirk stumbled back, Devon followed up with a hard right
hook to the jaw.
Dirk swung again and Devon jumped to the right. With a quick
twist of his body Devon punched Dirk in the face, his nose crunching beneath
his knuckles. Gripping Dirk’s neck, he twisted a sickening crack sliced through
the air. He released Dirk and watched him fall lifelessly to the floor with a
deafening thud.
Devon took a step back; a swirl of emotions filled him as he
stared at the man he’d just killed. He’d only killed once before, but it had
been self defense. It didn’t stop the guilt from creeping into him though.
A gurgling sound drew his attention away from the body. He
turned in time to see Michael’s unconscious form slide down the wall to the
floor. Devon didn’t know much about Michael. He always gave the impression he
followed out of fear rather than loyalty.
Crouching down, he surveyed the
other wolf, touching his pulse point. A thrum met his fingers. Zip ties poked
out of his pocket. Devon grabbed the ties and bound Michael’s unconscious hands
around the solid metal of the bakery case leg.
Satisfied there was no immediate
danger, his attention shifted to Lark. Her breathing remained even. Devon
stabilized her body, carefully rolling her over.
Blood coated the collar of her
shirt and smeared across her cheek. Her bottom lip was split and a tiny trail
of red dribbled down her chin. Lowering his gaze, he examined the rest of her. A
splatter of blood covered her hand but it didn’t smell like it belonged to her.
Teeth gritted, he carefully moved
her matted hair from her forehead.
“No,” Lark yelped, fear flooding
her voice. A warm hand wrapped tightly around his wrist and pushed him away.
Devon flicked his gaze to Lark’s. Her
blue eyes blinked furiously, panic over ran her normally calm face. Quickly he
removed his hands while she struggled to sit up.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. Take
it easy, you hit your head.” As gentle as possible, he placed his hands on her
shoulders to keep her from sitting up too quickly.
Wild blue eyes locked on his, her
efforts to sit stopped. “What, what happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Devon asked
concerned. How hard had she hit her head? Did she have a concussion?
Her brows scrunched together. “They
attacked me. Where did they go?” Lark’s arm gripped the table leg as she tried
to get up again.
“It’s okay, they’re taken care of,”
Devon kept his tone even, eyes locked with hers. Her pupils appeared normal. “Are
you alright?” He wanted to touch her face, but wasn’t sure how well the action
would be received.
Lark sucked in a deep breath. Tears
pooled in her eyes, and her bottom lip trembled. Devon ground his teeth; he
hated seeing her like this. Her hand went to her head gingerly patting the
large knot forming. She pulled back and looked at her crimson hand. It began to
shake violently.
Devon clasped her bloodied hand to
regain her attention. The last thing he needed was for her to freak out. “It’s
not that bad. A few stitches at most. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Lark blinked, as a tear rolled from
her eye and
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