Wolf Kisses Read online

  Calys. She was alive. Thank the fuck she was alive.

  Relief crashed into him as he stared at her, and that was when he realized she was not quite herself. She was having one of her dark fits, and it was extremely clear that she was hell-bent on killing Raoul. The younger man was on the ground, fighting for his life. He shifted into his panther form the next second, but it made no difference. Calys was relentless in her attack, every swing of her father’s sword deadly in its precision. Metal clashed against claws, wounding both skin and fur.

  Raoul’s gaze found him. “Stop her,” he demanded in a voice made shrill with fear. “She’s gone mad,” he gasped. “She’s killed her own father and now she wants to kill me—”

  Alejandro tore off towards them, knowing he couldn’t allow Calys to kill Raoul without any justification. Once her rage died, he knew she would blame herself forever for it, and he didn’t want that kind of burden on her.

  “Princess, stop—” He managed to step between Raoul and Calys.

  “Get out of my way!” Her eyes blazed with fury as she struck at him, hard enough to send him flying. It was the distraction Raoul was waiting for, giving him the time to scramble away. He knew he would never win against Calys. He had known her far too long to underestimate her skills, but it also made him aware of her weakness.

  She was a warrior, and warriors had their silly codes of honor.

  By the time Calys faced him, Raoul held Venetto’s lifeless form in his arms. “If you take my life, know that I will take your father’s form with me. He’ll die scarred and dismembered, nothing like the warrior he was in real life!” To show her he meant it, he drew a line on Venetto’s throat and blood started to seep out.

  Calys screamed at the sight of Venetto’s neck being slowly decapitated.

  Memories assailed her.

  Of Venetto playing with Calys and Anastasia, tossing their young bodies in the air at the same time before catching them one by one—

  Of Venetto patiently teaching her to wield a sword while Anastasia clapped every time Calys was able to bring their father down—

  Of Venetto telling her he was so proud of her and that she and Anastasia were children of his heart—

  Her dark half relinquished control of Calys’ body, and she came back to herself with a cry, the sword dropping from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

  Her tear-blurred eyes sought Raoul’s. “Stop.” She would never forgive himself if Venetto ended up beheaded because of her quest for justice. “You can do anything you want, just please don’t make my father any less of a warrior.”

  “Call off everyone on your side,” Raoul snarled.

  Without taking her eyes off Venetto, she said hoarsely, “You heard him.”

  One by one, the Souris, the Lyccans, and the Adelardi panthers loyal to her stepped back, a traditional symbol of ceasefire among non-humans.

  The tension on Raoul’s face eased, and his smile turned feral. Too late, Alejandro caught the look the panther sent to his men.

  “No—” But dozens of panthers had rushed at him, preventing him from reaching Calys in time. The last thing he saw before going berserk was a panther striking Calys’ head from behind.

  ALEJANDRO

  “You have to talk to me at some point.” Two days had passed since Venetto’s lifeless form had been discovered, two days of Calys being locked in the dungeon – something all shifter towns secretly possessed because of its unusually strong inhabitants. Unlike most others, however, Midtown’s was natural rather than manmade, painstakingly built from damp stone caves underneath the Everglades. Thick steel bars that were spaced only inches apart made up its cages, and the keys to its heavy locks had been turned over to the Panthera.

  Both of them were seated on the ground, Calys’ knees huddled close under her chin while Alejandro lay against the cave’s walls, one leg propped up.

  Her silence ate at him, making his chest squeeze painfully. “Talk to me, Princess. Please.”

  But Calys only looked at him, her face wan and her gaze blank. She had not been eating for days, and only the knowledge that he would bring war to his race and hers kept Alejandro from forcibly breaking her out.

  Above them, the Panthera remained locked in a meeting, Raoul doing his best to force the elders of his race to condemn Calys for killing Venetto Adelardi. As the Panthera was traditional to the core, Calys’ judgment would depend on their decision as a whole. DNA evidence did not mean anything to them, but even if it did, Alejandro knew the tests he had secretly asked his men to carry out would yield no clues. He had studied Venetto’s corpse, and it had been a swift, clean kill, with no signs of a struggle. Venetto had known the killer – and he had not expected the other person to be his murderer.

  His gaze returned to Calys. It was clear she was still in shock, her devastation over Venetto’s death making her drown in self-pity.

  “You need to snap out of it.” His voice was tight with worry. Gripping the bars that separated them, he demanded, “Aren’t you worried about your sister?” He had only recently learned about her human sister from the Souris, and apparently it was the girl that he had overheard Stefan talking to.

  Calys finally looked at him, but her tone was dull when she said, “Stefano will look after her.”

  They were the first words she had spoken, and Alejandro’s eyes held hers immediately, not willing to let Calys drown herself in her grief once more. “And what about your pack?”

  Her body jerked at the mention of her family, the first sign of life she had shown. It gave Alejandro hope, making him press on, “If you continue to stay like this, what do you think will happen to your pack? They will be under your cousin’s rule.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear this—”

  “Tough, because you will hear it, whether you want to or not.”

  She clapped her hands over her ears. “I just want to…” Her voice choked. “I just want to grieve. It’s my fault Father’s dead. My fault. My fault. My fault.” She started beating her chest.

  “Stop it!”

  “My fault, my fault—”

  His temper ignited the same time his fear over her hurting herself rose, and he snarled, “Stop it, dammit!” When she kept crying and beating herself, he roared, “Stop with the self-pity! If Venetto raised you as a warrior, then fucking act like it!”

  Calys froze.

  The pain etched on her face was so raw it made him ache to take her in his arms, but he knew that it wasn’t comfort she needed from him. That would come later. Right now, she needed him to make her strong and if he had to lash out at her to do it, then that was what he was going to damn well do.

  “Tonight is my last chance to be with you, Calys. I’ve made sure that none of Raoul’s men are near enough to hear us – they all think we’re doing…” Alejandro grimaced.

  Calys asked faintly, “Doing what?”

  Sex, Alejandro thought. It had been the only rational explanation for his desire for privacy, and it was better than have everyone realize that instead they were plotting to extract vengeance. “Never mind what they think. You only need to know that this is the only time I can talk to you.” He paused, disliking what he had to say next. “The Panthera has asked me and my brother to leave. He’s asked the same of your new family.” Everything inside him roared in protest against the very idea, but he knew that it was necessary, not just because disobeying could bring war but also because doing so was tantamount to their plan.

  Forcing himself to continue, Alejandro said, “Benito says that your race desires to mourn Venetto’s passing in private, but I fear doing so makes him fall right into Raoul’s hands.”

  When Calys’ eyes widened, Alejandro knew she had understood perfectly what he meant. Drawing her breath unevenly, she whispered, “You can’t be serious. He can’t…why…how could he even think he’d get away with killing the entire Panthera?”

  His eyes bored through hers. “The same way he or whoever it is he asked to kill your
father managed to get away with it. He would make it appear that you were the one behind it.”

  Calys looked down at her hands. In a low whisper, she said, “I barely managed to control myself back then. If I see him again, I know I’m going to kill him.”

  “If our plan works, you will have the right to. But Princess…” He waited for her to look at him, and when her blue eyes met his, he said emphatically, “None of this will work if you don’t get a grip on yourself.” His voice hardened. “Do you understand, Calys? If you truly want to avenge your father, you need to promise me – you need to promise to yourself that you will be strong.”

  Several seconds of silence passed before she whispered, “On my word as a warrior. I promise.”

  CALYS

  Everything in my body knew the moment Alejandro Moretti and the rest of his pack left. It was an absence that slowed down the beat of my heart, made my skin prickle in uneasy awareness, and my muscles freeze. Raoul came down to the dungeon as soon as they left, and my dark half snarled and demanded to be let out the moment I saw him.

  Patience. Patience. We can’t kill him now, I whispered to my darker side.

  He strutted towards the cage, looking and acting more peacock than panther. I smelled his fear underneath his arrogant stance and knew he still remembered the terrified state he was in when I had the sword in my hands over his body.

  When he reached my cage, he spat at me. His saliva dripped down my face, and I wiped it away silently with my shackled wrists.

  “You know you’ll rot here until you’re sentenced to be beheaded, don’t you, little cousin?”

  I only looked at him silently, not trusting myself to speak. I focused on his face, my gaze unblinking as I started counting the ways I could torture him.

  One, castration.

  “Not going to say anything?” he sneered.

  Two, pull out his nails, slowly, one at a time.

  “Uncle Venetto was wrong to trust a monster like you. He had been nothing but generous to you and how did you repay him? You had a dog between your legs and you began to kill every panther that got in your way.” It dawned on me that he was speaking too loudly, like he wanted the people above us to hear him.

  Three, skin him alive, peel his fur inch by inch.

  “If I hadn’t been raised to respect the Panthera, I wouldn’t bother waiting for their sentence. I’d have given you to my men and let them treat you like the slut that you are and when they’re done, I’ll have you chopped into pieces and fed to the dogs you so love. I doubt they’d know the difference.”

  Four, slice his scalp open and turn his brain into a pincushion.

  He spat at me again. “If you’re smart, you’ll be praying for a quick death at their hands.”

  Five, sew every opening in his body shut. From his eyes, his ears, nose, mouth, and even the slit in his cock. Every damn opening.

  As he turned away, I whispered, “You should pray for the same, too. Cousin.”

  The words had Raoul tripping on his own feet.

  It should have made me smile, but it didn’t. Maybe, maybe when my hands had turned red with his blood, I would regain my sense of humor.

  Raoul and his men left not soon after, just like Alejandro had predicted he would. When the massacre happened, Raoul would not be in the scene, which provided him an alibi of sorts. I counted the seconds, needing them to be far enough to be out of earshot before I made my move.

  Five minutes…ten minutes…fifteen minutes…

  I stood up. Vladimir or Amalia hadn’t gotten around to teaching me how to control my dark fits, but I didn’t think I had to worry about that in this case. What I felt, she felt. What I knew, she knew, and what mattered to me, mattered to her.

  Tonight, we both knew, was all about retribution.

  Twenty minutes...

  I closed my eyes.

  Twenty-five minutes…

  When I opened my eyes, both of us were awake, and both of us wanted to kill.

  Metal bars bent and curved under my fingers like they were made of plastic. The screeching sound had the guards rushing down into the dungeon. By the time I stepped out of my cage, they were all in front of me, fear written all over their faces.

  I recognized them as guards of the Panthera. For that reason alone, I would do my best not to kill them. “You can try to hurt me or capture me. But do not try to kill me, or I will kill you.” I took a step forward and they all took a step back, and it was like an impromptu dance between us.

  They looked at each other, as if needing themselves to be brave as one unit before charging towards me at the same time. A minute later, and they were all groaning in the ground, their injuries rendering them temporarily immobile. Not even their shifter blood would be able to heal them quickly enough to stop me.

  When I reached the surface, there was no sign of any other panthers – neither foe nor ally was around, and it only meant one thing. What Alejandro predicted had indeed come to pass, and tonight either Raoul or I would die.

  I walked alone in the dark, the inhabitants of Midtown all shut safely inside their homes. Either they knew what was going on or they were sensitive enough to the undercurrents in the air and knew better than to interfere.

  The first attack came the moment I stepped past the town borders. A steel arrow swooshed from the north. I caught it handily and broke it into two with a snap of my fingers. A torrent of arrows followed, together with a shower of bullets, but it was too late. I ran, too fast for them to hit me, and their own weapons became my tracking device, exposing their location like a predator finding its prey’s jugular.

  They saw me coming, but that was all they could do.

  See.

  It was the last thing they could do.

  For their eyes, all their eyes, were just like Raoul’s.

  Evil. Greed. Soulless.

  Bones broke. Necks snapped. Spines crushed.

  The second wave of attack came as soon as I eyed where Raoul hid and waited in all his cowardice. A fortress that belonged to his mother. It had been a home to warriors once, but now because of him, the place would be a mass grave.

  It broke my heart to see members of my own pack rushing towards me. Venetto had loved them all. Every damn one of them, and this was how they would return his love? If they had no mercy or love for him, then I had none of the same for them.

  With them, vengeance would be extra sweet.

  Around us, the wind started to howl from nowhere, strong gusts of wind that had the leaves rustling, branches swaying, the sounds mingling with the screams that came from traitorous panthers whose flesh I ripped apart with my hands.

  They came at me like an endless mass, hatred and desperation making them wildly violent. But they had no chance. No chance. Not one bit.

  And bit by bit, the land underneath my feet became soft and squishy with the strips of their flesh.

  The fortress’ doors were barricaded, but it took me nothing to pry them out of the way.

  Finally, I saw Raoul.

  He was surrounded by a hundred shifters, paid assassins, and many of their faces were familiar. After tonight, I thought absently, The Den would find itself suffering from a sudden shortage of fighters.

  Raoul was stupid as ever, and the proof of it was the absence of fear in his eyes. He thought he had numbers on his side, and he said as much. “More are coming this way, bitch. You can keep killing, but it will take you an entire day before you can reach me – long enough for me to have the entire race under my reign.”

  Outside, the wind howled louder, making Raoul frown as he fought against the distraction it presented.

  He really was an idiot.

  “Just tell me,” I said softly. “That’s all I ask. Tell me who killed Father.”

  He bared his fangs in a sneering smile. “I wish I could say it was me, but unfortunately I only played a small part of it.”

  The words had my dark half stirring, but I made her wait, knowing that we had to keep Raoul alive lo
ng enough for the truth to be known.

  “I told him the three of us should talk privately, that you were already waiting for him at the back of the inn.”

  “And?” My entire body shook at the effort I had to exert to keep myself still and not make all my dreams come true. Since the time I had left the dungeon, I had counted a hundred and thirty-five ways to torment him, and more ideas still poured into the back of my mind.

  “Venetto was old. He was nothing like he used to be, even if he does act like he’s still got it. My man had his sword in a second, and he never even got to defend himself.”

  I bowed my head as the truth washed over me. It hurt to hear how Venetto had died, but somehow it was also liberating, and a part of me was grateful that he had not suffered.

  “Nothing to say before I kill you?”

  “I do.” Slowly, I looked up at him. “Did you really think you could get away with it?”

  “I already did,” Raoul bragged. “Because at this very moment, my men are killing the entire Panthera, and it will all be blamed on you.”

  “No.” I stepped forward, and despite having a hundred men with him, Raoul inched back. “They’re not.”

  Consternation twisted his face. “You think you can make me believe your foolish words—” He stopped speaking as a strange, loud sound interrupted him. It came from above, and unease wafted through his army of assassins as they saw the fortress’ heavy roof start to shake.

  Outside, the wind howled louder than ever.

  Raoul was staring at me. “You can’t be behind this,” he gasped.

  I didn’t answer, knowing I didn’t have to.

  A second later, the whole roof was smashed apart and dark shadows began to fall, hard and fast. And that was when they saw where the wind was coming from.

  Oddly, I remembered the times Venetto would tuck me into bed and read my favorite superhero comics with me.

  It’s not a bird…it’s not a plane…

  Tears fell down my eyes as one after another, Souris flew down, and their large, strong wings were so powerful that together they had made it appear like a storm was approaching. In each of their arms was a passenger, a Lyccan or a member of the Panthera, and all of them had heard every word Raoul spoke, their presence undetected because they had come to the fortress from the skies, where no one was watching.