Read Online Southern Shifters: Werelock (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Mina Carter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mina Carter
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as the car pulled away, struggling to a sitting position to peer through the back window. Her house was on fire. Flames curled around the door, and as she watched, the bedroom window exploded outward in a shower of glass and flame.
“Hale…” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek as blackness rose.
She accepted it gratefully. If she was lucky, her injuries would kill her before she could wake.
Hours later they were back on Brogan land. Renae whimpered in pain as she was dragged out of the car and thrown to the ground in front of a crowd. Lifting her head, she realized that the entire pride was assembled in the square. When she was a child it had been a place of companionship and gathering, but under Lance’s rule it had become a place of punishment.
As she’d expected, the stocks were occupied. A bruised and bloody man slumped unconscious in the middle, the seats either side of him empty. Recognition filled her. He and his wife had been new to the pride, arriving a little more than six months ago. She’d wondered how long it would take before Lance used some trumped-up misdeed to seize his property and money… and his wife, a pretty little brunette. She turned her head. Sure enough, the wife was with one of Lance’s cronies, her head bowed and bruises over her face and neck.
Boots appeared in her line of sight.
“My darling wife has returned to me, isn’t that sweet?” Lance’s voice, triumphant and crowing sickened her. She struggled to her knees, not wanting to give any hint of weakness in front of him. As always he was impeccably dressed, designer clothing head to toe while some of the pride starved.
“I can assure you it wasn’t willingly.” She spat blood from her injured cheek over his shiny boots.
He laughed, but his eyes, a deep brown she’d once considered warm, narrowed dangerously. She’d pay for messing up his boots, but considering he was going to kill her anyway, that was the least of her worries.
“Pity she’s such a slut, isn’t it? She left the safety of the pride…” Grabbing her by the back of the neck, he hauled her to her feet. Spinning them both around, he addressed the crowd like he was a politician making a grand speech. “Rejected your friendship to run off with her warlock lover.”
Lance’s supporters in the crowd hissed and booed, but most looked away or down, refusing to see what was going on in front of them. She stared at the few who would look her in the eye, wanting to yell at them. Couldn’t they see that it could just as easily be them in her place? But they didn’t, wouldn’t say anything… they were all too scared of what Lance would do to them. They weren’t a pride, not anymore. They were just a bunch of scared people waiting for the hammer to fall.
She wanted to cry in frustration and anger, but didn’t. Instead, she opened her mouth and laughed, making several in the crowd look up in surprise.
“I didn’t run off with anyone, Lance, but if it makes you feel better, you carry on and tell yourself that. I ran away from you, asshole. And I’m glad I did. You’re no fucking alpha. The warlock you sent after me—with your money by the way…” She stabbed a finger toward the group in front of her. “He was more of an alpha than you and your pathetic lion will ever be.”
Lance snarled and shoved her away as though she’d burned him. Stumbling, she fell to her knees with her lips clamped shut. She would not cry out and let him know he’d hurt her. She wouldn’t give him the damn satisfaction.
“More of an alpha, really? Well, let’s see how well your ‘alpha’ protects you now, eh? Bring him out.”
The gargoyle stomped to one of the other cars. She held her breath as he dragged something out of the trunk of one, walking over to drop it in front of her. A man, wrapped in a bloody sheet. Her breath hissed out of her lungs in a rush as she recognized the broad shoulders and the blond hair.
Hale.
“He up to fighting me for your
“Hale…” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek as blackness rose.
She accepted it gratefully. If she was lucky, her injuries would kill her before she could wake.
Hours later they were back on Brogan land. Renae whimpered in pain as she was dragged out of the car and thrown to the ground in front of a crowd. Lifting her head, she realized that the entire pride was assembled in the square. When she was a child it had been a place of companionship and gathering, but under Lance’s rule it had become a place of punishment.
As she’d expected, the stocks were occupied. A bruised and bloody man slumped unconscious in the middle, the seats either side of him empty. Recognition filled her. He and his wife had been new to the pride, arriving a little more than six months ago. She’d wondered how long it would take before Lance used some trumped-up misdeed to seize his property and money… and his wife, a pretty little brunette. She turned her head. Sure enough, the wife was with one of Lance’s cronies, her head bowed and bruises over her face and neck.
Boots appeared in her line of sight.
“My darling wife has returned to me, isn’t that sweet?” Lance’s voice, triumphant and crowing sickened her. She struggled to her knees, not wanting to give any hint of weakness in front of him. As always he was impeccably dressed, designer clothing head to toe while some of the pride starved.
“I can assure you it wasn’t willingly.” She spat blood from her injured cheek over his shiny boots.
He laughed, but his eyes, a deep brown she’d once considered warm, narrowed dangerously. She’d pay for messing up his boots, but considering he was going to kill her anyway, that was the least of her worries.
“Pity she’s such a slut, isn’t it? She left the safety of the pride…” Grabbing her by the back of the neck, he hauled her to her feet. Spinning them both around, he addressed the crowd like he was a politician making a grand speech. “Rejected your friendship to run off with her warlock lover.”
Lance’s supporters in the crowd hissed and booed, but most looked away or down, refusing to see what was going on in front of them. She stared at the few who would look her in the eye, wanting to yell at them. Couldn’t they see that it could just as easily be them in her place? But they didn’t, wouldn’t say anything… they were all too scared of what Lance would do to them. They weren’t a pride, not anymore. They were just a bunch of scared people waiting for the hammer to fall.
She wanted to cry in frustration and anger, but didn’t. Instead, she opened her mouth and laughed, making several in the crowd look up in surprise.
“I didn’t run off with anyone, Lance, but if it makes you feel better, you carry on and tell yourself that. I ran away from you, asshole. And I’m glad I did. You’re no fucking alpha. The warlock you sent after me—with your money by the way…” She stabbed a finger toward the group in front of her. “He was more of an alpha than you and your pathetic lion will ever be.”
Lance snarled and shoved her away as though she’d burned him. Stumbling, she fell to her knees with her lips clamped shut. She would not cry out and let him know he’d hurt her. She wouldn’t give him the damn satisfaction.
“More of an alpha, really? Well, let’s see how well your ‘alpha’ protects you now, eh? Bring him out.”
The gargoyle stomped to one of the other cars. She held her breath as he dragged something out of the trunk of one, walking over to drop it in front of her. A man, wrapped in a bloody sheet. Her breath hissed out of her lungs in a rush as she recognized the broad shoulders and the blond hair.
Hale.
“He up to fighting me for your
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