“I got him good upside his fucking face before he coldcocked me.” He waved to the door impatiently. “Go to her,” Kane growled, and I smelled Sebastian in the hall, saw him crouch beside his brother.
I kicked in the bedroom door, the wood splintering, the door hanging on its hinges. I froze and took in the scene of the room, my breath stalling, my entire body seizing.
Blood was splattered on the floor. A mixture of Mikhail and Kayla’s.
The top sheet was missing from the bed.
The curtain was hanging from the rod.
I stepped in farther, and then another, smelling Kayla’s fear lingering in the air. It was fading, which meant it had been a while since she’d been here.
Whoever took her must have done it shortly after I left the house.
“I’m going to eviscerate him. I’m going to rip his bowels out from his throat, shove them back down, and make him eat them.” My head pounded, my hands shaking. I’d never felt so out of control, where everything in me was unthreading, spiraling haphazardly until it would stain everything it touched.
I felt all my sanity vanish. Using all my strength, I was by the bed and tossed that piece of fucking furniture across the room until it crashed into the opposite wall. I did the same with the dresser, then tore the large mirror from the wall and dropped it on the floor as hard as I could, letting the shards of glass spray along the floor. I slammed my fist into the plaster over and over again until I felt the skin of my knuckles break.
The pain felt good. I needed more.
When the room was in pieces all around me, I stood there panting, taking in the destruction… wanting more. I felt the blood from my busted-up hands dripping onto the floor.
Drip-drip, drip-drip.
Nothing made sense. All I felt was dark, hollow pain. Pure, undulated need for revenge, vengeance.
I heard this deep, rough sound and realized it came from me. I was snarling and growling, unable to think sanely, didn’t even want to. I wanted everyone and everything to feel this pain, to be this broken. Just like me.
I was fucking pissed. I wanted my female back. And I’d do anything and everything to make that happen.
I felt someone touch my arm, and I didn’t know what happened, but one minute, I was standing in the center of the room amid the carnage I’d wrought, and the next, I was standing over a very dead, mutilated body.
My chest was pumping up and down as I breathed hard and fast. I killed the poor vampire bastard in a matter of seconds yet had no recollection. Lifeless eyes looked back at me, a mouth gaping open like a fish out of water, twin white fangs flashing among the splatter of blood coating everything. Especially me.
I lifted my hands and looked down at my open palms. Blood. So much.
A beautiful sight.
“Easy, ye crazy arsehole,” someone said and came forward.
I snapped my head up, narrowing my eyes at the Lycan who was inching forward. “Stupid motherfucker,” I growled in a distorted voice. I tasted the coppery flavor of blood on my lips and tongue from my latest kill.
Gaelic was being shouted at the wolf, but the bastard didn’t stop. In fact, he kept coming closer, and I could see the gleam in his eyes.
I faced off with the wolf who was dumb enough to come close. The fucker wanted a go at me. “You want a piece of me, think this is your chance?” I held my arms out, let the blood coating me cover the ground all around me.
I’d oblige him with a smile on my face.
“Ye crazy bastard. Ye need taken down.”
I heard Banner shouting at the Lycan bastard, but before the king could stop him, he lunged forward, not listening to or caring about orders.
I let him slam into me, let his body propel me backward until I crashed into the wall. I let him hit me. Once, twice, his fist slamming into my face a third time before I’d had enough, grinning a bloody smile, laughing darkly.
And so I wrapped a fist around his throat, lifted him up and off the ground, and spun him around and slammed him against the wall now. I couldn’t think straight but felt the vibrations on the floor as bodies were coming toward me, feet hitting the wood. I knew in two seconds I’d feel hands on me, pulling me away.
They wouldn't take this kill from me.
I ripped the fucking wolf’s throat out, felt the spray of blood on my neck and face, basked in that wet warmth. I let his body fall to the floor and turned around, spitting out the chunk of flesh and part of his trachea, the rage in my head never ending, the violence I felt a rising crescendo.