Page 51 of Tamed By The Beast

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And that was true. He was one of the most powerful leaders on our planet. Honored. Revered. Richer even than the most decorated warlords returned from the war. So why would he deal in Rush and illegal weapons? It didn’t make sense to me. “Why do this?” Three words. A complete sentence. Before Tiffani, that would have been impossible.

“I was bored, Deek. Really. I spent ten years tearing Hive soldiers limb from limb. I came home and wore slippers and sipped wine.” Engel lifted his arms and waved around the rich tapestries, art and elegant furnishing of the sitting room. “This is all nothing, Deek. In time, you will see that. I had a chance to change the outcome of the war on Xerima, to influence the development of an entire civilization.”

“You play god.”

“We are gods, you fool. Most are simply cowards, too afraid to rule.”

I shook my head, slowly, curled my beast-sized hands into fists. He was insane. I saw it then, the maniacal belief in his gaze.

I lunged for him then. He was expecting it, let me come into his space, allowed me to grab him. The aggression fed his own beast, fueled the inner animal to rage, transforming Engel into his beast form as well. He grew to my size, his graying hair strange to my vision. Not many men of his age or stature transformed, and the sight was strange. But his body was pure muscle, his shoulders and chest equal in size to mine. He was huge, powerful, and he knew how to fight.

But I was fighting for more than my own ego. I was fighting for Tiffani.

We struggled, testing one another’s raw strength. Back and forth, neither gaining the upper hand. I heard the guards arrive, but ignored them. Their blasters would simply piss me off in this form and they would do little to stop Engel. Warlords who’d fought on the front lines learned to deal with the pain of a blaster.

“No, don’t intervene.” I heard Dax’s words, but focused on Engel. He shoved me away and we circled one another as he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His beast was breathing hard, sweat dripped from his brow.

“Never get between warriors in beast mode. Do I have to send you back to basic training? Get a ReGen wand in here. The commander doesn’t need our help, but his mate does.”

Engel lunged and I deflected his punch, parried with a strike of my own to his kidney, hooked his face and pulled back and down, forcing the bastard’s head up. Using my claws, I ripped across his face, twisting his neck. Unfortunately, he turned his body as I would have snapped his spine, only scarring him with deep gouges of my beast’s nails horizontally across his face. Blood poured from the wounds as a howl emerged, shook the room.

Panting, I leaned forward, arms out in front, ready for more. Seeing my mark on his face, knowing that he’d go to his death with this shame upon him, had my beast howling in triumph. But we weren’t done yet.

He charged me this time, his howl of rage like an explosion in the room. I used his momentum against him. Stepping to the side, I threw him down on the floor and thrust my claws into his back.

Beyond thought, I thrust through flesh to bone, wrapped my hands around his spine and twisted until I felt the bones snap, first one, then two, then more as Engel screamed in agony beneath me.

I held him there, my hand wrapped around his spine as he flailed with his arms. His legs ceased moving and my beast snarled with satisfaction. We had hurt him, ruined him, destroyed our enemy. Engel would not rise, he would not walk, he would never fight again.

And still I could not let go. He pushed up with his arms and I pushed my fist deeper, separating the bones and puncturing soft tissue. I knew his lungs filled with blood. His arms collapsed and he slumped to the floor, his body growing cold, in shock. He blinked slowly as blood dribbled from his mouth onto the floor.

The beast was finished with him. Done. Triumphant. But I would not let go, not until he’d taken his last breath.

“Deek. Deek!” I felt the hand on my shoulder, heard the voice, but it was difficult to break through the haze of hate. Of rage. Of fury. It wasn’t the beast that wasn’t listening, but the Atlan warrior. I wanted Engel dead. The beast, though, listened to his mate and she was talking now.

It calmed and nudged me, hard, to feel my mate’s hand on my shoulder, to hear her words.

“Deek, let go. It’s done,” she said. She squeezed my shoulder and I tore my gaze from the paralyzed Engel to look up at Tiffani.

“It’s over for him. Leave him for the g

uards.”

“But he hurt you,” I countered. I could not let this chance go by. I needed to destroy the warrior who’d harmed her.

“He did. He harmed you, too.” She swallowed then, for it was a fresh wound for her. “But it’s over.”

“He must die,” I vowed.

She nodded as she cupped my sweaty cheek, stroked her thumb just below my eye. My beast leaned into the touch and preened. “He will die, but not by your hand. Let Dax get in here and heal him.”

“No!” The beast and I were in complete agreement, but Dax stepped forward, fucking ReGen wand already glowing blue and ready to help the bastard.

“Let him face the council, Deek,” Dax told me. “I can’t heal his spine, but he’ll be healed enough for transport to jail. I promise you, he’ll be executed when the council learns what he’s done.”

Tiffani’s eyes were round, pleading. “Let them do this. Let the guards have him. I don’t want him to taint you. Please.”

My little mate was trying to protect me from feeling guilt. What she did not understand was that I had no remorse, no regrets. If Engel died here and now, I would never feel a moment’s guilt. But her heart was soft, her worry genuine, and so I would appease her. Not because I would suffer for killing the man who’d hurt her, but because she would suffer and worry about me.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides Program Fantasy