Dawn Released

The older wolf dug his claws into the wood beneath his paws. His coat was brown, tinted by shades of gray and black. Menacing yellow eyes narrowed as he focused on the smaller younger wolf. The wolf was confident that a victory was his. He took his time playing with the young wolf, using the wolf's lack of experience to his advantage. He'd dive in, find his mark, and dodge out, wearing the young wolf down bit by agonizing bit.

The young wolf braced for another onslaught. His walnut colored fur was stained with red blood. Beads of blood rolled down his neck and dripped onto the wooden platform. Size didn't matter to a wolf. The old wolf was bigger and more powerful, but that wasn't everything. And the old wolf, although he thought he knew him well, didn't. The wolf's lips curled back revealing dagger like sharp teeth as the older wolf uncoiled powerful muscles for attack. He leapt to meet the older wolf, knocking him off balance.

The older wolf fell to the platform, momentarily stunned. But, it was enough time for the young wolf to gain the upper hand and pounce. Biting with his teeth into the unprotected flesh beneath the older wolf's throat and tearing flesh away with a spray of hot blood.

The twin wolves paced nervously at the base of the platform, clawing at the wood. They wanted to join the fight, but it was not their fight to join. This was a battle to the death for rights to the pack and the right to live. The victor would be decided by pain, blood, and death. The stronger of the two would survive while the weaker wolf perished. The fates of every wolf hung on the outcome of the bitter battle for life that transpired on the platform above their heads.

Tristen was as careful with Kacie as he could be as he dragged her through the narrow pass under the fence. He panted with the effort of pulling her free from the other side of the hole. She was hurt badly and bleeding from the deep gashes across her back, thighs, and chest. He pulled his shirt over his head and ripped it into long strips of cloth. Pressing it against her wounds in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood. Her unconscious body sagged in his arms as he cradled her against his chest. "Kacie, we're out. You're safe," he whispered.

"Oh my god!" Shayla scrambled to Tristen's side and dropped the first aid kit and the blanket she'd found in the SUV. "What happened?" She fumbled with the kit's contents trying to find something useful as she rummaged inside. Kacie's injuries were deep and severe. The kit was meant for managing simple scrapes and bruises, not lacerations that cut into tendon and exposed bone. Clumsily, she opened the gauze packs and passed them off to Tristen.

Tristen snatched the gauze out of Shayla's hands and stuffed them into the wounds. Wincing as Kacie moaned in pain. Where was that damnable vampire when he needed him? Carter's blood could heal her. Tristen could do nothing more than keep her from bleeding out. He felt so helpless and so inept. The only thing he could do was hope that she remained oblivious to the pain and that he could slow the bleeding until the vampire decided to make an appearance. "Seff's whip."

Shayla ran her hand sympathetically over Kacie's cool skin. "Bastard." She spread the blanket over the girls limp body and tucked in the loose ends. "He deserves to die."

"I can't argue that." Tristen pressed a kiss to Kacie's forehead and rocked her in his arms. Doing what he could to comfort her while he waited for help.

"Someone's coming," Shayla whispered. From the east she heard voices muttering in the dark and the scuffle of approaching footsteps. She stood and withdrew the shotgun Carter had insisted she take for protection. She cocked the chamber and pointed the barrel toward the noise.

Emil saw Shayla's outline in the moonlight and he saw the barrel of the gun pointed in his general direction. She probably wasn't that good of a shot, but he didn't want to take chances. "Easy Shayla, its us!"

Shayla wasn't so easily fooled. It was Emil, she recognized his voice, but it could be a trap. "Who's with you?"

"Its me, Hanning and we've brought a few others with us."

"How many?" Shayla called out.

"Ah, just about everyone, I think. Shayla, it's over. We're safe now." He hoped. The pack was united again. Rag tag and slightly worse for wear, but they were all together as a singular unit.

Shayla eased her finger off the trigger and gently lowered the gun to the ground, within Tristen's reach. "Use it if you have to." She trotted out to meet Emil and Hanning. Blinking in disbelief at the faces gathered around them. She didn't believe for a minute that it was all over. In fact, she thought that the worst of it was just beginning.

Shane prodded the guards with the barrel of his gun. He rounded them up and herded them into a room. There weren't but a handful left that refused to give up on Seff. The painful indoctrination their master had given to secure their loyalty ran deep and cut a fissure through their souls. The men were brothers, and sons, uncles, husbands, and fathers caught up in a battle that never should have been theirs to fight. Part of their family was on one side of the fence while they remained, willfully, locked in this damn room.

He locked the door behind them and stood point with a few other well trusted and heavily armed males. What they were going to do with the guards, he had not the foggiest. The process of getting them reprogrammed would be long, tedious, and painful. He didn't know if after all that Seff had put them through if they'd ever be truly trustworthy again.

Carter grunted beneath the strain of carrying Eloise's limp body over his shoulder. Nash hung back, lagging behind at a safe distance from the fragrant cloud of hormones exuding from the woman's pores. To him, the smell of her had lost its appeal, but then again he wasn't a werewolf, and he certainly didn't breed. Vampires weren't born of the union of man and woman. They were created by the fusion of blood and pain. Vampires didn't necessarily feel an inane urge to go forth and populate the earth. Offspring were carefully planned with calculating and often cruel intent.

Jealousy ripped through Nash. Carter was carrying his woman because he couldn't be trusted to do the job himself. He was rigid, stiff, and achy, a victim to his instinctive response to her scent. The dripping curtains draped over her body did little to dampen her alluring, cloying scent and nothing to deaden his need to get his hands on her. He teetered on the brink between man and beast.

"Son of a bitch!" Carter stepped back from the fence. The fence was lined with males, eagerly vying, ready to fight to the death for right to Eloise's affections. Hungrily the men clawed at the fence. Some even attempted to scale the towering height and brave the razor wire to get to her. "Nash, stay back!" He backpedaled tripping over his feet as he scrambled beneath the burden of Eloise's weight.

Shayla recognized the scent of the heat and knew the danger of its draw. "Get her out of here!" she hissed at Carter through the chain link. The men were growling and sniffing, scrambling over one another to get closer to the alluring smell of a female in heat, drawn in helplessly like moths to a hot, bright, deadly flame.

Nash charged the fence. It rattled beneath the force of his wrath. No one was going to get to Eloise, no one but him. He answered every threatening growl with heated fury. Clawing at the links his fingers stretched to connect with the flesh of the males clamoring with desperation at the fence.

Tristen sniffed the air, confused by the commotion and the show of pure unadulterated testosterone in the air. Something smelled incredibly good. His body stiffened in response and his blood heated, surging to his groin. He inhaled of the heavenly fragrance almost forgetting the girl lying limply in his arms. Instinct gripped him as he growled, responding to the challenge affronted by the eager males.

Kacie stirred in his arms, waking from the blissful relief of Carter's spell into utter agony and burning pain. She cried out in pain as Tristen's fingers dug into her tender, bruised, and battered flesh.

"Kacie, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you." Tristen gritted as his brain battled with the physical need ripping through him. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, searing his flesh. Through the line of men wrestling with one another at the fence, Tristen saw Carter protectively, clutching something big and heavy across his shoulder. "Carter! I need you now!" he shouted. His voice was lost to the din of growling males and thundering fists pounding against the metal fence.

"Shit!" Carter hissed. Tristen's voice carried over the noise of the fray. These males were going to tear one another apart in their urgency to get to Eloise. The fence rattled and shimmied against the weight of so many bodies. "Nash! You're going to have to take her!"

Nash gripped the fence, snarling like a beast at the men. "I can't. I don't know what I'll do if I get that close to her!"

Carter shook his head and bit off a bitter curse. "Better you than them. Tristen needs my help. You have to try!" He caught the sound of Kacie's wails of pain and smelled the coppery, tangy scent of her blood. "You have to do this!"

Hesitantly, Nash stepped away from the fence, inching closer and closer to the source of his desire. He wanted Eloise worse than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. Duty to his grandson fortified his will and quelled the desire to rip her out of Carter's hands and do the deed right then and there.

"Hurry up!" Carter shouted. The fence was beginning to buckle under the combined weight of the males. If they got through, Nash having his way with Eloise was the least of their problems. These men were a frenzy of hormone and instinctive, primitive need. They'd kill each other to get to her and most likely rip her into shreds the process. He planted Eloise's slack form over Nash's shoulder. "Go!"

Nash bit back the desire to rip the wet curtains off her limp body and bury himself to the hilt in her lush, sleek depths. He adjusted her weight and ran back to the neat rows of homes he'd just fled. If he wanted her safe, he was going to have to find shelter for her until the storm that ravaged her body passed.

Carter watched Nash disappear into the distance with Elosie, slung, head bobbing against his hip, as he ran. Already, with her out of sight and her scent fading in the night breeze, the men were beginning to calm. Damned werewolves. Carter huffed as he slid through the hole beneath the fence and cleared it on the other side.

"Tristen!" he followed his nose. His fangs erupted through his gums in a painful tingle. Kacie's blood called to him. He mussed that he wasn't really that different from the wolves. Every one of them had their personal demons and weaknesses to contend with. For him, it was the almost irresistible call of fresh blood. He'd ignored his own needs for too long and he was paying for it. Careful to reel the worst of his instinctive need in, he vowed that Kacie would not suffer for his lack of care.

Tristen waved Carter over. Kacie writhed weakly in his arms. Sobbing as wave after painful wave assaulted her tiny body. "Do something!" He begged as the vampire crouched at his side.

Carter didn't need any medical training to realize that Kacie's wounds were worse than what he'd originally thought when he handed her over to Tristen. The deep wounds still oozed trickles of fresh red blood. Her face was pounded into a bruised and swollen pulp. Her pulse pounded weakly in her chest and she fought for each agonizing breath because of the numerous fractures Seff had inflicted upon her. "Damn it."

She hadn't lost enough blood and death wasn't coming for her. There was no risk of his potent blood turning her. Whatever was in his blood would ease her suffering. Donating even the smallest drop would heal her, but it would also grant her access into the dark, private, shadowy recesses of his mind. She'd discover things about him that he'd rather remained a secret. He'd trusted Shayla and she'd kept his secrets. He had to assume that Kacie had the insight and fortitude to do the same. He drove his fangs deeply into his wrist, hissing at the sting of his bite. "Drink."

Fingers tugged gently at her lower jaw, forcing her mouth to open. A warm bit of flesh passed between her lips. Sweet, decadent liquid flowed across her tongue, tantalizing her taste buds. Kacie shivered as she swallowed down the first gulp. Greedily lapping at the flesh for more.

Carter hissed as his life force flowed into Kacie. History and secrets swallowed with greedy, needful enthusiasm. Her condition was already beginning to improve. Ruddy skin blushed across her cheeks. Fingers, powered by his strength gripped at his wrist for more. Gingerly, he pulled back. "That's enough, child."

Kacie moaned and writhed. Assaulted by a new onslaught of pain spreading through her body. Cold. Biting and numbing cold froze her limbs. Awareness flooded her mind. Memories that weren't hers invaded every dark corner of her brain. Screaming in torment, she grappled and clutched at Tristen, begging for the torture to stop.

She'd never felt such isolation and loneliness. Cold darkness dug its fingers deep into her soul. Carter. She clung to the warmth that wrapped around her that spoke with such soft, caring words. Tristen was the light that chased away the awful terror of Carter's paralyzing loneliness.

Bone and flesh burned as it knit together. Carter's blood was healing her, but the price of being whole again was almost unbearable. Carter was a dark being, drowning in a cold, emotional, isolation. He felt everything. He longed for more than what he dared to dream. He had walled himself up in his own prison and he was the only warden. She shivered and clung to Tristen. Grasping onto his voice with her mind, letting the tenor of his words pull her free from the cold terror of Carter's existence.

Tristen ran his hand across Kacie's newly repaired skin. The flesh beneath his fingers was unmarred and perfect. The vampire had exacted a heavy price for his healing blood. Tristen could see it reflected in Kacie's eyes. Carter had left a permanent mark in her soul, scarring her on the inside. That was the price she'd paid for every inch of perfect flesh on her body. He opened his arms and gently helped Kacie sit upright.

Kacie scooted across the dirt and wrapped her arms around Carter. His voice was a deafening roar in her head. He'd healed her and she wished that there were something more she could do for him besides offer her gratitude. But, ultimately, she couldn't do anything more than give him words of thanks and a kiss on his cool cheek. She couldn't repair the damage that had been done to him deep on the inside where it remained hidden, scarring his soul. He wanted his wounds. He kept them open and festering. He wouldn't heal because he didn't want to. And there was nothing anyone could do about that.

Carter hated feeling open and exposed. Without a word he got up and slipped into the darkness. Comforted by the shadows and feeling quite at home alone in the inky blackness that wrapped around him like a blanket. He'd done his part and then some in the wolves quest for freedom and unfortunately, he wasn't done yet.

Chapter 42

Nash found an empty house at the outskirts of the complex and barreled through the unlocked door. He'd chosen a place as far from the lingering flickers of chaos as he could get. The streets were dark and empty, and the houses abandoned. A locked door wouldn't stop a lust-crazed wolf, but he turned the tumbler anyway. Eloise's shivered, unconscious. Her body still draped in the layers of wet curtains. Gently he laid her down on the nearest bed he could find and began the task of unwrapping her from the draperies. Without the fabric to mute her scent, his instincts roared back to life. He pushed past them to do his duty. Gently, covered her with a soft, hand-stitched quilt as he finished removing her soaked clothing while sheltering her body from his view with the blanket. Thankfully, her skin warmed and the shivering stopped. He glanced up at her to find his every move followed by her brilliantly gleaming, emerald colored, eyes.

"Nash." Eloise ran her hand down his chest. The heat ravaged her nervous system, burning each fiber of her being down to the core with its searing heat. Her hand found its way along the collar of his black T-shirt. Her fingers dug into the thickly muscled flesh of his shoulders as she guided him closer. Tipping her chin and holding him fast by the nape of his neck, she claimed his lips in a desperate, needy, and hungry kiss.

Nash responded with pure male arousal to her advances. His mouth sealed over hers, crushing the softness of her lips. His tongue flicked along the sweet, berry tip of hers. Matching the needful whisk of her tongue as it slicked against his. He followed the urging of her fingertips and stretched out across the bed, pinning her undulating hips with the meaty bulk of his thigh. He palmed her gentle curves through the thickness of the blanket. Not trusting what he'd do if his hands found their way to the burning warmth of her flesh.

Eloise arched her back in longing as his hands worked their way over the blanket. "Please," she rasped. Her nails dug in and dragged down his back as his lips claimed hers in desperation. She gathered the hem of his t-shirt and tore the cotton into shreds. The muscles of his back were tensed into coils of raw power and rippled beneath her eager palms. "More!" she moaned as he trailed a searing path of desire down the curve of her neck with his teeth.

The sounds of her impassioned moans were music in his ears. The feel of her body, arching greedily against his was pleasurable torture. He was intoxicated by the scent of her desire and drunk by the taste of her on his lips. Her fingers pulled at his braided black and silver hair, freeing the strands from the leather bands. He grappled with the blanket getting to the woman beneath as the last of his control was exhausted by sheer lust and heated need to get to the very center of her.

He rubbed the rough stubble of his cheek across her tender, swollen nipples. Wrapping his lips first around one ripe peak and then moving the other, he suckled her with eager laps of his tongue. His fists gripped the edge of the blanket and pulled it back, exposing the gentle curve of her hip and the triangle of thick, black curls that hid the sheer wonder and beauty of her beneath them. He was too far gone to be gentle with Eloise. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs as he parted them. Raking nails down the warm skin of her inner thigh, he drove his fingers into the tightness of her hot, slick, drenched, heat.

Eloise bucked her hips in response to Nash's exploration. She was ready for him. Eagerly spreading her thighs, she welcomed his advances. Nothing had ever felt so good as his lips on her pert nipples and his fingers plunging into her. Driving her insane with painful, aching, need, she twisted her fingers in his hair. Fisting the sleek, wavy strands embedded with silver streaks draping over his shoulders. Desire made the heat worse, intolerable and agonizingly painful. She needed him inside of her. Craved the joining of flesh with a desperation that knew no boundaries. "Please! Make it stop!" she gritted. Her hips ground in rhythm to the invasive strokes of his fingers. "I need you now!"

Nash withdrew his fingers from the tight, narrow, opening between Eloise's thighs. He was drunk from the heady scent of her arousal as he slicked the honey of her between his fingers. His cock throbbed with the need to claim her as his. Desperate and dizzied by the pain of his own aching need, he shifted his hips and balanced his weight on the palms of his hands and pressed his pelvis into the softness of her ripe core. Hovering over her as he slid in between her thighs, denim was the only thing that separated him from paradise. And despite the thick, rough cotton he could feel her heat and readiness burning the erect and tight head of his penis.