Chapter 27 : Dueling
*Sasha*
I pressed my thumbs upward, gouging at Donovan's eyes. “Get OFF me, you sick bastard!" I shouted.
Donovan reared back, trying to avoid being blinded. “You b***h!" he roared, slapping me across the face.
My head bounced on the floor and I began to see stars. “No," I said, but my movements became uncoordinated.
Goddess, I couldn't let him mark me. I couldn't let him win. I couldn't give up now. I shook my head, trying to clear the dizziness. My eyes met his and I saw the fury burning in them. He charged at me like a bull, his arms outstretched.
I rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding his attack. Donovan stumbled a few steps and turned to face me again. I scrambled to my feet, keeping my eyes on him. I knew I had to end this fight fast. I couldn't afford to let him get the upper hand again.
I charged at him, taking him by surprise. I aimed a punch at his face, but he deflected it with his forearm. Donovan retaliated with a swift kick to my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I gasped for air, trying to recover from the blow.
Donovan took advantage of my momentary weakness and grabbed me by the hair, yanking me close to him. I felt his hot breath against my neck and shut my eyes tight.
Suddenly, my door splintered off its hinges, accompanied by a feral roar.
I opened my eyes as Donavan looked behind him. I managed to knee him in the groin just as Lucas, half-shifted, ripped Donovan off of me.
He threw Donovan into a wall, tangling him up in Amanda's twinkle lights and leaving a long crack in the sheetrock.
Donovan landed on Amanda's bed, the lucky prick, looking like a combination of angry dog and toppled Christmas tree.
“Lucas...." I reached for him.
But Lucas wasn't quite finished with Donovan. He tightened the twinkle lights around Donovan's throat, meaning when Donovan fully shifted, he began to strangle.
“You are one stupid sonofabitch," Lucas seethed, some of his wolfy gruffness coloring the edges of his tone. He gave Donovan a shake by the twinkle lights as Donovan's tongue lolled and he struggled to breathe. “But I'm going to try to get something through your thick skull." He pointed at me, jerking Donovan's head in my direction. “You touch her again, you die, got it?"
Donovan nodded as vigorously as Lucas's grip would allow him to.
“Good. Glad we understand each other." Lucas dropped Donovan head-first onto the floor.
Then Lucas turned his attention to me fully, and whatever he saw made his gray eyes lit with both concern and deepening rage. He turned back to Donovan, and I knew he was going to rip his throat out.
“Lucas, don't. He's not worth it," I said, touching Lucas's ankle. I tried to roll over, but it made my head spin.
“You are very, very, VERY lucky this is a bad time for me to go to prison," Lucas growled at Donovan. “She just saved your miserable life. Be grateful."
Donovan coughed and nodded, his eyes still bulging with fear.
Lucas turned back to me and carefully lifted me in his arms. “We're leaving. I'll send someone for your things. You're staying with me for a while."
“What? Why? He's practically dead," I replied, though it ended on a nauseous moan.
“It's not him I'm worried about. It's them." Lucas carried me to the window and pushed aside the curtain.
With effort, I looked down and recognized the shifters from Leviss. “Sweet mercies of the White Queen, they just don't give up!"
“Apparently not," Lucas grunted. “This place isn't safe for you anymore. Hell, I'm not entirely sure about my house at this point, but at least it has a fence and a gate."
“Good point," I replied softly. I burrowed my head into Lucas's arm. “Okay. Take me home."
“You've got that right," Lucas said possessively, and the butterflies in my stomach suddenly had nothing to do with nausea.
Lucas stepped over Donovan in order to carry me out the door. He headed for the freight elevator instead of the main one.
My stomach rolled with every step, but it wasn't like it was safe to stop and take me to a doctor, not with those goons circling outside.
“Just hang on. I'll call for a doctor when we get home," Lucas said softly, as though reading my mind.
The freight elevator opened onto a small loading deck, and Lucas tiptoed down the metal stairs to one side.
I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck when I saw a figure at the mouth of the alley.
“It's Brady," Lucas murmured, rubbing my back. “It's okay. It's Brady."
I relaxed… until Brady spoke.
“It's not just going to be Brady if we don't hurry up," the vampire said, craning his neck behind him. “Ian's parked around the corner."
Lucas began edging along the wall quickly but then picked up speed when Brady swore and made a run for it.
The Leviss shifters had sniffed us out, apparently, and were descending, one of them actually howling in delight.
Lucas adjusted his grip on me, holding me close to his chest protectively as we darted through the alleyway. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as we ran, the sound of the shifter's howls echoing behind us like a haunting melody.
“How can this happen in the middle of the capital?!" I groaned, swallowing bile in my throat.
“I don't think they quite understand how things work here, and I don't think we want to hang around to educate them," Lucas panted.
I silently agreed, clinging to Lucas for dear life.
Brady was holding the door open for us when we reached the sedan. Lucas rolled us both inside and the door slammed shut.
I leaned my head against the cool glass of the car window, my eyes closed as the adrenaline from the fight and the fear of the ambush coursed recklessly through my veins.
I was in pain, but I couldn't tell where. I just felt sore all over. Lucas's hand slipped into mine, and I squeezed it tightly.
Ian hit the gas as the Leviss shifters jumped on the vehicle, leaving deep claw marks in the paint.
“You sons of bitches, do you have ANY idea how long it's going to take to buff that out?!" Ian yelled, spinning the sedan around, throwing the shifters off the car and into the street with his momentum.
“Remind me never to lean on the sedan again," Brady muttered, staring out the window at the scattered shifters.
Ian floored it, adding insult to injury by sending gravel pinging off them.
“I don't pay you enough, Ian," Lucas said, staring out the back window as the shifters disappeared.
Ian snorted. “I would agree, sir."
Lucas wrapped his arms around me and held me close all the way to his home. He only let up on his grip when the gate closed firmly behind the car.
“Brady, please go call a doctor. Sasha hit her head," Lucas sighed, carefully lifting me out of the car when Ian stopped.
“Hit her head? How, why?" Brady asked.
“Donovan. Don't worry, he got his," Lucas growled.
Brady nodded and took the stairs two at a time to go find a phone.
I let Lucas carry me to a bedroom and lay me down. By this time, I was so out of it that I almost didn't realize I was in Lucas's bedroom… Lucas's bed.
“Nice sheets," I said, suddenly self-conscious. The satin did feel nice beneath my arms.
“They'll feel even better when you're naked," Lucas murmured. He cleared his throat. “Not that that's something we should be thinking about right now. Have to make sure you don't have a concussion, though I'd assume you do."
“Too bad," I replied with a slight smile against the dull ache in my head.
Lucas groaned and kissed me, and my world spun in a good way. “Don't worry, I will take care of you." Lucas cupped my cheek.
I stroked his wrist. “You take good care of me."
Lucas kissed me again, then rose from the edge of the bed. “I'm going to make sure we're secure here. And let the guard know he can let the doctor in. I think Ian already has the poor guy on high alert."
I nodded, then regretted it.
Lucas winced on my behalf and kissed my forehead. “It's going to be okay. I'm going to make it okay."
“Okay," I said with absolute trust.
Lucas went to the door and let it swing slightly shut behind him. I watched shadows pass over the light as people walked back and forth in the hall.
I closed my eyes for just a second, or so I thought. When I opened them, a doctor was sitting next to me on a chair, checking my pulse.
“Tut tut, Sasha Wentley. We can't have you in this condition," the doctor complained, shaking her head.
“Not good?" I asked, wondering where Lucas was. It surprised me that he wouldn't be there for the diagnosis.
“Concussed, surely," the doctor sighed. “We cannot have that. We cannot. You need to be strong and fighting fit."
I frowned at the doctor. “Fight? Why?"
The doctor's eyes sparkled, then suddenly morphed into cloudy, wizened ones I'd seen before. “The prophecy, of course, my dear… the prophecy."
I screamed and struggled up the bed, but the old priestess's hold on my wrist was iron.
“Now, now, settle down. I'm not going to hurt you or that yummy man you've been pal-ing around with. Like I said, I need you fighting fit. Prophecies are not easy to fulfill, after all," the old priestess said.
Where was Lucas?
“What did you do to Lucas?" I demanded.
“Why, he and everyone else in this household seem to have gotten into some sleeping powder. It's perfectly harmless and will wear off in about half an hour, plenty of time for me to help you with that concussion," the old priestess responded, waving a hand. “Now, my shifter helpers might get a little violent if you refuse to do as I say… and with the household unable to defend itself...."
I stopped struggling. “What do you want me to do?" I asked, defeated.
“Better." The old priestess let go of my wrist and reached to the bedside table, where I hadn't noticed a steaming pot of tea. She poured a cup and held it to my lips. “Drink. That is all. Then we will leave."
I resigned myself and took a gulp.
“The whole thing," the old priestess admonished.
I drank the whole cup down, then settled weakly back on the pillows. Something was happening in my body, starting in my stomach and burning out from there. I whimpered.
“It had to be more potent because time is of the essence," the old priestess apologized. She stood. “Good luck, Sasha Wentley. I'll see you again soon."
Goddess, I hoped not. “Lucas?" I asked weakly.
But she was already gone.
“Lucas...." I whispered as the searing sensation made its way to my head. “Lucas… Lucas...."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder
Yeah sorry full of crap clichés skipping chapters...
Really oh fn....off another weak heroine roll, her pack hated her, she was abused, why would she do this .... pfghhj off at another cliche novel. .... Nope...