Alpha’s Obsession Page 11

  “That’s right,” I say softly. “You remember her, don’t you? Even if you don’t, your lion does.”

  “They made me.” His breath comes rapidly. “They put females in the cell and they made me—”

  “She was more than that to you.” I press on, even though Nash’s shoulders hunch, his body reacting to protect him from the memory. “That’s why you remember her. Denali.”

  “No,” he growls. “Don’t say her name.”

  “I saw the footage, Nash. I know who she was to you. So does your lion, even though you’re struggling to forget.”

  “She was just another one of them,” Nash bursts out. “Another female meant for me to breed. We had one night.”

  “One night is enough,” I say softly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face. Layne. She’s pressed up against the bars, mouthing my name. Nash is dangerous, unstable. A bomb about to blow. But I’m so close.

  I take a deep breath, and light the fuse. “You didn’t just breed her, Nash. You marked her.”

  ~.~

  Layne

  “No!” The cry rings around the Pit, a howl of anguish that silences the crowd.

  A lion bursts from Nash’s skin and slams into Sam. The place erupts.

  “I don’t believe it. He won,” Parker breathes.

  “On a technicality, sure, but a win is a win,” Declan shakes his head.

  “What?” I push up to tiptoes.

  “He got Nash to shift,” Laurie murmurs.

  “Oh my God,” I cry. The lion crouches, his claws impaled in Sam’s chest. “I grab Parker’s arm. “Help him!”

  Declan and Parker are already moving, scrambling for the cage with me on their heels.

  “We gotta get Nash off him,” I scream.

  “Feck!” Declan curses. “If the claws are in his heart, he can’t regenerate.”

  We enter the cage, and Parker and Declan slow at the scene—the huge lion turns his head and snarls at us. My legs turn to jelly.

  “Nash, let him go,” Parker calls, but neither he or Declan get any closer.

  Sam gasps, blood gurgling out.

  “Get off,” I shriek, rushing at the beast. “Get off him.”

  The giant head turns to me, crazy golden eyes skewering me where I stand.

  “You can’t kill him.” I tug at my shirt showing the red wound, already half healed and scabbed. “He marked me, see? He’s my mate. My mate.”

  For a horrible second I wait for the lion to open his lethal jaw and devour me. Instead, the great head twitches. The eyes dull to a normal light. The lion retreats, leaving Sam convulsing on the floor. A bright red stream spurts from his chest. I throw myself to my knees, pressing my hands to his chest to stop the flow.

  “Oh please, Oh please.”

  “Use this.” Laurie kneels beside me, offering his own shirt. The tall man is thin, too thin for a shifter, his body showing scars. In a flash I memorize his chest in exact detail. The world is slowing, the crowd outside the cage fading away. Nothing matters but the man dying under my hands.

  “You can’t die,” I tell Sam. It’s just like my mom. I watched her go. I couldn’t save her.

  “Layne.” Someone is calling my name.

  “Layne,” Parker repeats, crouching next to me. “The wounds can close.” Parker says. “He’s a wolf. He should be able to heal.”

  “If he dies, I’ll never forgive you,” I snap at the grey haired shifter.

  “If he dies, we won’t forgive ourselves.” Declan kneels on the other side of Sam, helping staunch the wounds.

  Sam shudders under my hands, coughing up blood.

  “That’s it, wolfie, let it out,” Declan and Laurie help support Sam.

  “Don’t move him—” I start, but Parker holds me back.

  “No, it’s okay. The claws are out, the healing’s begun.”

  Sam sags, the color coming back into his face. His body’s covered in blood.

  “Gave us a scare, wolf boy,” Declan says. “Nash tried to shish-kebab ya.”

  Sam smiles weakly. “I’ve had worse.”

  I don’t know whether to laugh, burst into tears, or punch them all.

  “What happened?” Sam rasps.

  “You won. You got Nash to shift. And then you almost died,” Laurie explains. “Nash wouldn’t let you go. Layne got him off you.”

  “Never seen anything like it. She faced the King of the Beasts,” Declan says.

  “You... let her?” Sam struggles to draw breath.

  I tear free of Parker and press my fingers to Sam’s bloodied lips to silence him. “They couldn’t stop me.”

  “Ladies and gentleman,” Parker announces. “I give you the winner of this fight—Sam Smith!”

  The crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and boos.

  “You guys better get him out of here,” Parker says. “Lotta people lost bets when Sam won over Nash.”

  Laurie and Declan exchange glances.

  “We better go too,” the Irishman says.

  “Careful,” I murmur, as Declan and Laurie lift Sam in their arms. Already Sam looks better, which is good.

  Because when I get him alone, I’m going to kill him.

  ~.~

  Sam

  Parker hustles us out of the cage, calling for the sexy leopard skin girls to come and dance. Laurie, Declan, and Layne press around me, pushing through the crowd. There are snarling, hostile faces everywhere I look.

  “Run,” Declan advises, and we jog the rest of the way to the back door—the one the fighters use. Four big bouncers close behind us, stopping the mob from attacking us.

  “This way,” Parker leads us back to a locker room. He opens one locker and pulls out a med kit, tossing it on the bench. “Lay him out, bandage him up.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” I bat at Laurie’s hands.

  Layne pushes Laurie aside and gets in my face. “You are not fine,” she grinds out. “You nearly died.”

  “I’m healing,” I tell her softly, but she ignores me, snapping on gloves and grabbing a hot pink colored bandage.

  “I’ll get you some meat,” Parker disappears.

  Declan and Laurie stand back as Layne starts to work.

  “I’ve never had a doctor fetish before,” Declan starts.

  “You better not be getting one now,” I growl, and flinch as Layne tugs the bandage around me with a sharp movement. It’s going to take a lot of flowers and chocolate to earn her forgiveness. Still, I can’t help the giddy pleasure of having a mate who cares.

  “Give us a moment, guys,” Layne orders, and they amble off in the direction Parker took.

  Layne leans over me, her cheeks flushed. I watch her breasts shift under her thin shirt. As if they know I’m looking, her nipples pop up, visible under the bra and t-shirt. Adrenaline is pumping through me, and I know it’s gotta affect her.

  “You know,” I say, running my hand up the back of her leg, “Some women get turned on by fighters.” It was a stupid move. Trying to flirt with an angry female is about as dumb as trying to flirt with one I’d just kidnapped. And it gets me about as far.

  She removes her gloves and slaps me with them. “You are lucky I don’t rip your head off. What were you thinking, fighting Nash?”

  I try to push up on my elbows, but she puts her hand on my sternum and presses me back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. It was the only thing I could think of to talk to him.”

  She shakes her head and I cringe when I see tears swimming in her eyes. I’d rather have Nash stab my heart out again than live with hurting my female.

  “Sam, I’m dying.” Fresh pain lances through my healing wounds. “I don’t know how long I have—a year until I lose significant body control? Another year after that until my brain degenerates and I become a vegetable? I watched my mom go through it, and it’s not a pretty sight.” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t ask you to go through that.”

  “Layne, what are you saying?�
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  “I can’t do this. I can’t be in a relationship.”

  Jesus Christ. She’s breaking up with me. Even though I have nothing to offer her, every organ in my body revolts, ready to stop functioning in protest of her leaving.

  Except... she still looks mad. Which means I must have a chance here. A mad female is totally different than a resigned one. It means she cares.

  She pokes a finger in the middle of my chest. “But you, you’re not dying, Sam Smith. You’re a smart, young, attractive, and extremely capable wolf with his whole life ahead of him. You do not get to throw your life away on this stupid quest of yours.”

  I stare at her, unsure which part of her diatribe to pay attention to. Smart, young, attractive? My wolf wants to do a little puppy dance around her legs. But then I absorb the rest of it.

  “It’s not a stupid quest.”

  Dr. Layne Zhao can be stubborn. But she has no idea how single-minded I can be. I made a vow not to rest until I took Smyth down, and I intend to follow through.

  The fight goes out of Layne and her shoulders sag, which is far, far worse than seeing her pissed off. “I didn’t mean it that way. I realize you’re trying to help people, too. You’re trying to prevent further injustice, and that’s a worthy cause, but at what cost?” She spreads her hands, gaze pleading. “It’s not worth giving your life for.”

  There’s a brick-size block in my chest that won’t move, despite Layne’s words. Settling the score with Smyth is my life’s purpose. I don’t care if I die doing it. In fact, I always figured I would.

  “Layne…” I rub my forehead. “I don’t have a life. I’m broken. Smyth broke me before I even became a man. You saw Declan and Laurie and Nash. They’re broken, too. I don’t have anything to live for—I never have. So, you and I, we’re the same. You’re using your last hours to further science and save lives. I’m using mine to finish this.”

  A tear streaks down Layne’s face, but she smacks the unwounded side of my chest. “You’re wrong! You’re not broken, you’re just damaged. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned today, it’s that wolves heal. So heal yourself, dammit. You have friends who care about you. You have—” She stops and swallows. “You have me. Your mate.”

  I swoop up and reach for her, gather her up against my chest. The scent of her tears has my wolf tearing his fur out to fix this. “Do I? I thought you were just trying to tell me goodbye.”

  She slaps my chest again. “It will be goodbye if you ever pull a stunt like this again!” she cries through her tears.

  “Baby.” I pull her even closer, stroke her ebony hair. “My beautiful doctor. I’m sorry I upset you.”

  She tries to pull away. “Don’t say you’re sorry you upset me. Say you’ll stop. Say you’ll honor the life you have. If not for yourself, for me. Because I don’t get one.”

  My throat closes and my eyes sting. I bury my face in her hair. “I promise,” I murmur gruffly.

  Someone clears their throat. The guys have all returned. Declan and Laurie look a bit dazed by the sight of me and Layne. Parker marches forward with a battered cooler and sets it on the bench.

  “Here,” he says. “Fresh meat. You need to replenish your blood.”

  “Is it wise to eat now?” Layne looks appalled at the juicy cut of raw steak I lift out of the cooler.

  “Oh yeah,” I moan, ripping into it. “Food of the gods.”

  “Nash is gone,” Parker says. “He left some pretty big claw marks on the door, too. But he just texted me a place and time.”

  “Does that mean—” Layne trails off.

  Parker nods. “He’s willing to meet.”

  10

  Layne

  Nash lives in a trailer much like Sam’s safe house, set onto the side of a hill.

  The former soldier steps onto the porch as Sam’s van pulls up. He’s barefoot, wearing fatigues and an army green t-shirt. He crosses his arms over his impressive chest as we all troop out and climb to his front porch.

  “I tried to get them to stay behind,” Sam jerks his thumb at Declan and Laurie.

  “We’re a crew,” Declan declares. “Besides, I brought hooch.”

  A low rumble starts in Nash’s chest, but it cuts off and he steps back to allow us all in.

  “Are you crazy?” I whisper to Declan as we file in.

  The Irishman shrugs. “You tamed the kitty.”

  Nash turns, glowering. “I heard that.”

  “Oh look, the pack’s all here,” Parker calls from the couch. He raises a red cup in toast.

  “We’re not a pack,” Nash says.

  “Says ya,” Declan throws an arm around me. “We’re a right motley crew, aren’t we, luv?”

  Sam growls.

  “I don’t think Sam likes you calling me ‘luv.’” With a finger and thumb I snag Declan’s sleeve and lift his arm away from me and let it drop.

  “No, wolfie? Ya gonna challenge me for the lady?”

  I hold up a finger before Sam can answer. “Let me clarify. I don't like you calling me that. So stop it. Understand?”

  “Right,” still grinning, Declan backs away. “Clear as glass.”

  Laurie chuckles.

  I glare at him for good measure.

  “So, Layne,” Parker asks. “How did you and Sam meet?

  I turn to the grey-haired shifter. “He broke into my lab, stole my research, and kidnapped me.”

  Laurie chokes on his drink.

  “Then I shot him with a tranq dart and left him on the side of the road. But Sam showed up right when Data-X was going to kill me, and saved my life.” I shrug. “We've been inseparable ever since.”

  “I see,” Parker says.

  Sam clears his throat. “As much as I’m enjoying this little soiree, Nash and I need to talk privately.” He holds up his laptop case. “I have something to show him. Something personal.”

  “Go on with ya,” Declan waves a hand. He’s grabbed up the bottle sitting near Parker and is topping up Laurie’s drink. Whatever the clear liquid is, it smells like turpentine.

  I shake my head. These guys are nuts.

  “We can talk back here,” Nash says, jerking his head towards a hall leading to the other end of the trailer.

  “Layne.” Sam holds out his hand to me.

  “Are you sure?” I mouth and he nods. When I take his hand, he squeezes it.

  Nash leads us to a back room—a bedroom. Sam doesn’t hesitate, just sits down and opens his laptop.

  “This is the footage.” He turns the screen towards Nash, hands him a pair of headphones and then gets up and comes back to me, tugging me into the hall. “Nash needs to see this alone.”

  I nod, and let Sam pull me into his arms. I don’t need to see or hear to know what’s on screen: footage of Nash and his mate.

  Sam holds me for a few minutes. We left the door open and every so often I glance at Nash’s face. His expression is blank, but his eyes blaze bright.

  Finally he removes the headphones. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. All’s I know is what you saw. I didn’t watch it,” Sam clarifies. “I skipped past most of it, but at the end it’s clear—you marked her.”

  Nash sits so still for a second I wonder if he’s breathing.

  “I didn’t remember,” he starts, and clears his throat. “I’d forgotten her. I made myself forget. But somehow I always knew.”

  “She’s your mate,” Sam says. “She’s alive. Her file says she escaped. I’ll help you find her, but first we stop Smyth.”

  Nash’s gaze comes back into focus. “What do you need from me?”

  “I don’t know where he is. The program file said you came to Data-X from the military. I need a way to track Smyth. I don’t have any leads. I was hoping you could tell me something that will give me an idea of his trail outside of Data-X.”

  “Can you tell us of how you first met Smyth?” I ask. “It was after you left Special Forces, right?”

  Nash gets another faraway lo
ok. “I was … desperate. I had PTSD from Afghanistan and a lion who loved to kill. I needed help. Smyth was an army doctor. He told me he’d help me.”

  “He told me that too,” I say. “I ended up working with him, until Sam came and showed me the truth.”

  Nash nods.

  “I went in thinking he was going to do some kind of reconditioning on me. There were tests—endurance tests, pain threshold tests. I didn’t mind it all, but I was still a fucking mess. I started asking more questions.

  “Smyth gave the wrong answers. I realized they weren’t trying to help soldiers recover from the war, they were experimenting to make super soldiers. They wanted to duplicate shifter regeneration powers and apply it to humans. I took it upon myself to search the research facility. That’s when I found the other test subjects. Most were dying from whatever experiments Smyth was doing on them. Some of them were young—barely teenagers. My lion came out and I went after Smyth.”

  He clenched his jaw. “That’s when I became a prisoner, too. Unable to help anyone.” He looked out the window. “Unable to help… her.”

  “She got away on her own. She’s free, but she’s not safe. None of us are. Not until we take down Smyth,” Sam says.

  The mad light comes back to Nash’s eyes. “Then we take down Smyth,” he says grimly.

  Sam nods. “You help me find him, and I promise I’ll find your mate.”

  11

  Sam

  “Come on,” I grab Layne’s hand as we leave Nash’s house. Laurie, Declan, and Parker are still drinking the nasty smelling liquor Declan scrounged up from who-knows-where. I almost feel sorry for Nash, and then I remember how his claws felt in my chest.

  A little drunken Irish singing might be good for the lion. He can always throw them out.

  “Where are we going?” Layne asks, tromping beside me. I lead her to a bike—an old Triumph Declan’s been working on. He made me swear on my liver I’d get it back to him in one piece.

  Wavering strains of “All for Me Grog” reach us. I doubt Declan will notice if we’re a wee bit late.