Chapter 28

Chapter 28

He’d tracked her all the way through the streets of London, and realized how much he still knew the place. Luther used to come here on the days his father had insisted on traveling. And he hadn’t been back since the old man had died. He’d admit, he hadn’t expected it to look much the same as it always had.

The wolf helped him follow her scent through the winding streets and back alleys until he slunk into Spirit Quay. He watched as the men threatened her and marveled at how strong she was to not even flinch. He would have. Hell, Luther wanted nothing to do with the gang members that clearly wanted to do her harm. But he had to give her the chance to prove herself.

Luna would kill him herself if she didn’t get the chance to do what she’d come here to do. He knew that. She knew it too; he assumed. Because for a moment, her eyes flicked over to where he stood in the shadows. He thought she saw him.

Then she did the unthinkable. She threatened the leader of the Spirit Quay Gang, and all hell broke loose.

Luther wasn’t the wolf. He wasn’t some demon who could run out of the shadows and save her. He hadn’t even brought a damn gun because he’d been running out of the house without a thought of weaponry or what he’d need to bring her back. He’d just wanted to get her home, where she was safe, and without a gang member pointing guns at her.

Then he heard that big one hit her. He heard the horrible sound of bone striking bone and watched as she fell to the ground.

She needed him. More than that, she needed a savior, and he refused to let her do this alone. Even if the full moon wasn’t out, he would still risk his neck to make sure that she never had to get punched in the face like that again. But in a shocking twist of events, his wolf woke up.

The big man lifted a fist again, clearly winding up to punch Luna even while she lay on the ground. And that’s when it happened.

His wolf ripped out of his throat, clawing and tearing and biting until Luther didn’t need the moon to give it life.

He stepped out of the shadows with drool dripping from his fangs. Clawed hands held out by his sides, he tilted his head back and let out a howl that shook the rafters of the surrounding buildings. It was a scream of rage and anger that anyone would ever dare touch what was his. The men should quake in fear.

And they did.

Three of the big men turned toward him with shocked expressions on their faces. They all fled, probably the smartest of the bunch. The other two, however, turned toward him with their fists raised. That was a foolish choice.

Luther rushed toward them and their blows were barely more than butterfly kisses as he let the monster inside him out. He chewed through the cords of their necks. He ripped out muscle and sinew, shaking it between his teeth before he released the horrible strands. He left the two men in piles on the cold cobblestone ground. They looked nothing like the men they’d once been.

Hunger rumbled through his belly and he knew if he lost himself, he would hunch over those bodies and rip into their warm bellies. There were delicious secret treats inside. Deep inside. The sweetest part was hidden behind the belly and between the lungs. But first, he had to focus on the now and the man who was clearly running away from him.

“Crowley,” he growled through his blood drenched muzzle. “You are mine.”

The man stumbled and fell onto the stones in front of the door to his pub. Scrambling, he flipped onto his back and crab walked away from Luther. Spine pressed against the wood. He found the courage to speak. “Begone, monster.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Luther replied, taking another step toward the real beast. “Coward. You wanted to kill a woman who you thought you’d sent to her death. Then you wanted to take what was mine.”

He’d said too much. Crowley was a smart man, and surely he understood what Luther hinted at. Yet the man was trembling so much, he probably wasn’t thinking about anything other than safety.

For good measure, Luther lifted a clawed finger and pointed at Crowley. “You are mine, Crowley. I will return for your heart so that I might feast upon it in the light of the full moon.”

The door opened enough for a hand to reach out and grab onto Crowley’s shoulder. The henchman within the pub yanked his leader into the darkness and safety beyond. Let them. Luther already knew there was a back way out and they would all try to slip into the darkness where he might never find them again.

What they didn’t know was that a wolf could track them for ages. He would find these men, each and every one of them. He filled his lungs with their scent. And he’d never forget it. Nor would the wolf. They would spend a very long time hunting down these men until Luther bathed in their blood. Only then would he forgive them for what they had done to his mate.

Turning around, his eyes searched for the woman he loved. The woman who was the other half of his soul.

Luna had already sat up. She braced her wrists on her knees, staring at the two dead men with a shocked expression on her face.

Ah. He had forgotten she’d see all this.

Luther didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want her to think he was a monster, as well as everyone else here. He’d killed for her, and surely she would see that? She would understand that he hadn’t any choice but to save her.

Still. There was blood on his hands and he had ripped out the throats of two men in front of her. If she’d been looking, that was. Maybe she’d been smart and turned her face away from the carnage.

Unlike now. She wasn’t looking away from their bodies. Not even a little.

“Luna,” he said, his voice little more than a growl. “Stop looking at them, my moon.”

“No,” she replied. Though it wasn’t in the shaking tones, he’d expected. Her words were as sharp and jagged as his fangs. “I want to look at them. I want to remember the faces of the men who tried to kill me. And they would have. You know I’m not exaggerating. If Crowley had told them to step on my neck until I stopped breathing, they would have. They didn’t care at all.”

“They didn’t.” The anger burned inside him still, but more than that, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to make sure she was still in one piece.

He couldn’t, though. Not like this. Not when he looked like a monster of old and hulking above her, with fur covering his body and a face like a dog. He tried to convince the wolf to release its control, but it wouldn’t. It wanted to touch her as well. A mate was theirs for life, whether she wanted to be or not.

Swallowing hard, he took another step toward her. “Luna, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” She touched a hand to her face, then stared down at the blood on her palm. “Oh. He probably broke my nose.”

There it was again. That horrible anger. “Which one?” he snarled.

She lifted a delicate red brow and pointed to the dead body on the right. “That one. He was the one who hit me the first time. The other three were supposed to protect Crowley. Who, I assume, you’ve also made quick work of.”

“He’s in the pub.” Luther took another shaking step forward. “Luna, I know you don’t want me to touch you like this, and I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but I... I need...”

He didn’t have to finish.

She leapt up and into his arms in the blink of an eye. Her head must ache and her body definitely did, but she still threw herself into him with so much force that he stepped back a few times before hugging her against his heart.

A deep sigh blew from his lungs and ruffled her hair. This. This was what he had wanted for so long. No, needed. He’d needed her to be with him and beside him. And now she was in his arms and it made his soul complete again.

“I was so worried about you,” he breathed into her hair. His muzzle didn’t quite fit like it should and he was a good deal taller than normal, but he was still himself. Still aware enough to know that she held him with the same fervor.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he felt the burning heat of tears against his furry shoulder. “I never should have taken what I did, but I didn’t see another choice. There was no other option when I feared he would... he would know who you were.”

“He already does.” And Luther didn’t care if this man found out. What would a gang leader do to him?

The worst Crowley could do was spread rumors. It wasn’t like the man would go to the authorities, after all. They’d slap Crowley in shackles before they would ever listen to what he had to say. And most of the people in Dead Man’s Crossing already had their suspicions about who or what Luther was. More rumors would only fuel that fire, but no one had any proof of what he was.

Luna sniffed. “I didn’t want him to ruin your life, Luther. You have so much more to lose than I do.”

“I don’t care if people know what I am. The Earl of Dead Man’s Crossing has fought through worse than rumors and myth.” He leaned back, trying to smile through the muzzle, although he had a feeling he looked more monstrous than before. “And I’m sorry, but I can’t believe you’re hugging me when I look like this.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “You aren’t that bad, you know. I thought you’d be a lot more drooly and less dog-like.”

“Dog like?” Both he and the wolf were insulted. “I’m a werewolf.”

“And you look more like an irish wolfhound than you do a wolf.” She ran her fingers along his muzzle, scratching her nails into his elongated face and still grinning like she’d found the best companion in the world. “And you’re still you, Luther. Underneath all of this fur and change in form, I can still see you in your eyes. Nothing has changed for me.”

Oh, he loved this woman who wasn’t afraid to run with the wolves. She led him around as though she’d put a collar on his neck and he loved every second of it. If she would let him, he’d devote his entire life to worshipping her.

He swallowed hard and said, “Luna...”

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to finish that thought.

A shout rang out from down the street and illuminated torches approached. Apparently, he’d underestimated Crowley. The damned man might not have gone to the authorities himself, but he’d had someone else call them. And anyone claiming there was a werewolf in London would capture the attention of far too many people for his comfort. He had to run. He had to go... somewhere, but they would find him. Someone would track him down.

Eyes wide, he argued with the wolf to let go of the form, so at the very least, the authorities would only find a naked man in the arms of a woman. But the beast wouldn’t listen to him. Instead, it howled with rage that anyone would try to attack them. Especially with Luna in their arms.

She wrestled herself from his grip and shoved his shoulder. “Go. Run.”

He opened his arms wide, pointing in either direction. “Where am I going to go, Luna? They’re going to find me.”

“Not if I cause a distraction.” She shoved him again, pointing up at a balcony. “Go up that way. There’s easy access to the roofs. Find a place to hide and then wait for me to come get you. Or wait until the sunlight and then you’ll have to go back to normal.”

He wasn’t so sure that would work. “But, Luna... They’re looking for you, too.”

A bright grin flashed across her face, nearly blinding him with her confidence. “I’ve evaded them for a lot longer than you have, Luther. Trust me. Go.”

He had no other choice. Luther leapt and grabbed onto the balcony, hauling himself up with teeth and claws until he could hide in the shadows. Then he heard her. Luna let out a horrible, gut wrenching scream.

“Wolf! Werewolf!”