“Fang?” Dakota's eyes are running over Myst and the way my hand is holding hers against me.
“Myst has been injured.”
She approaches the bed. “Hi, Myst, my name is Dakota. Do you mind if I take a look?” Myst glances at me, and then back at Dakota, before she nods. I don’t want to let go of Myst’s hand, but it’s easier for Dakota to examine her on this side.
Standing, I step back, watching Myst’s frightened eyes as she tenses. “I will stand right here,” I say, trying to appease her nervousness, but also trying to calm my wolf. I would have wanted to kill whoever did this to Myst even if she wasn’t my mate, but now I have a drive within me that I know won’t rest until I have found revenge for what was done to such a beautiful and innocent creature.
“Shall we take this off?” Dakota asks, as she points to the hoodie. Myst looks down at herself then back at me, her teeth biting her lip as she nods. She tries to sit up, but winces when she feels pain.
I growl in anger over seeing her hurt like this.
“Here, let me help you,” Dakota offers as she leans forward to help pull the hoodie up and then over Myst’s head, and slide her arms out. When Dakota steps back, I want to howl in fury when I see her bruised body.
“Who the fuck did this?” I know I was thinking of waiting until after Dakota saw to Myst, but I can’t wait. I want to know who the fucker is that I’m going to kill.
“Grimm…” That single word has the past rushing back as I think of everything that happened and how Grimm just brushed it away.
Even though we are blood brothers, we never saw eye to eye because Grimm would always want to do things in ways which I didn’t agree to. The day before I was banished from the pack, Grimm had agreed to a meeting with a drug lord, a meeting that he told me would bring fortune to the pack. I disagreed, and we fought like we did often, but this time it was intense, and we didn’t see Storm standing close to us.
Grimm turned in a fit of rage, jumping back to try to get away from my attack. Not seeing Storm, he clawed Storm’s throat, and in doing so, killed him.
Storm was only a boy, and his death has haunted me throughout the years. Even though I didn’t kill him, I feel responsible for his death, because if I hadn’t tried to stop Grimm, then Storm wouldn’t have been killed.
Grimm blamed me, and I didn’t have the heart to argue at the time as I felt guilty for the pain that I saw in Storm’s mom’s face. I couldn’t believe that Grimm would stoop so low and blame me for something he did, hoping right up to the end that he would come forward and agree that he was the one who killed Storm, even though we were both to blame for fighting. But he didn’t. Instead, he was one of the many that threw rocks at me as I walked away.
I swore to kill Grimm if I ever saw him again. I never went looking for him and never intended to, but now that he has hurt Myst—my mate, I will not let him get away with that too.
“Why?” I ask as Dakota peels off the soaked bandage, and I see the deep claw marks. The wounds are so deep that I know they will leave a scar, something I’m sure he had every intention of doing.
“Grimm isn’t a good man. Things have changed since you left,” she murmurs, stopping to take in a deep breath as Dakota starts to dab at the blood. The black silk bra she is wearing covers her bountiful breasts, but does nothing to appease my rock-hard cock. “He… argh.” She hisses as Dakota cleans out the wound, which has my hands fisting and wanting to rush to her side to hold her close until the pain goes away. But at the same time, I want to go find Grimm and make him pay.
“You can tell me later. Just let Dakota take care of you so you can get better,” I order.
“But, Fang. He might come here looking for me.” Her worried expression and the sudden tears in her eyes have my determination to keep away from her until she has been healed vanishing as I walk around the bed to sit on the others side of her.
Taking her hand, I hold it in mine as she looks deep into my eyes. “Let him. I hope he does,” I state as I stroke the back of her hands soothingly. I want nothing more than to face my brother and show him that he won’t be able to lie his way through anything else by blaming me again.
“But you don’t understand. Grimm is the one that runs things now. The men all do what he says.”
I raise an eyebrow, but I’m not surprised because I know how hungry Grimm was to be alpha. Leaning forward, I stroke my fingers over her forehead, feeling the warmth there which has me frowning as I turn to Dakota. “She’s burning up.”
Being clawed or bitten by one of us isn’t good if you are not a shifter, because it will be difficult to heal. The fact that she is already burning up means that the wound is infected.
“I will give her something for infection and for the fever once I have cleaned the wounds and stitched these two up. Looking at the two deeper claw marks that Dakota pointed out to me, I bite down hard so I don’t roar when I realize I how deep the fucker wounded her.
“I’m sorry to bring you all this trouble, but there was no one else I could go to,” Myst says apologetically, her eyes filled with tears.
“You are just where you are supposed to be,” I promise, as I lean forward and kiss her lips lightly. Her eyes widen in surprise, and then she smiles.
“You know?” she whispers as she closes her eyes
“Know what?” I ask.
“That I am yours!” To hear the words coming from her own mouth has me wanting to take her right here, right now, and make sure that everyone knows that she is mine, especially Grimm.
Looking at Dakota, I see a knowing smile on her face as she winks at me. “Soon,” she mouths.
Looking back at Myst, I frown when I see that her eyes are still closed, and she seems to have lost consciousness. “Myst?” I call quietly. When she doesn’t respond, my eyes snap towards Dakota, who is stitching up her wounds.
“Don’t worry, this is her body healing itself,” she says, trying to appease my concern. “I have cleaned the claw marks and now stitched the two deepest ones. She will be fine.”
I nod my thanks as I look at Mystique again. She seems so at peace like this, but from the bruises on her body, I’m sure that her past hasn’t been as peaceful as I hoped.
I was frustrated earlier, feeling anger at the whole situation with the serial killer, and not having anything tangible to hold on to. Now I’m just fucking fuming. But I now have a clear goal as to who is going to feel my wrath.