Katie Reus - His Untamed Desire

“Ma’am—”

Even though she knew it was an incredibly shitty thing to do, Daphne bared her canines. “Drive. I’ll pay extra.”

The guy’s dark eyes widened and he jerked away from the curb. She heard someone shouting, probably his original patron, but she was beyond caring about anything at this point.

Her throat squeezed impossibly tight as she tried to hold back the sob building inside her. Part of her wished she’d been strong enough to confront Hector or yell at him . . . or something. But they’d never made any commitment to each other. They’d never even had sex. Sure, they’d made out a lot and he’d given her that one, intense orgasm, but they weren’t a couple. No, screw him. This past week he’d made her feel as if she was the only female on the planet for him. As if what they had was special. Treating her like this was unforgivable.

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked, his voice wary.

She rattled off her address without thinking. Her pack had cleaned her place up and had a new alarm system installed, but she hadn’t been back. She’d been too afraid, but right now she wasn’t going to the mansion. She didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. Nope, she wanted to be alone with her tears and she was pretty sure she had a bottle of wine in the pantry—if the bastard who’d trashed her place hadn’t destroyed that too. Angus had refused to let her see inside her house until it was cleaned, but she’d heard some of her packmates whispering that someone had shredded her clothes and underwear. How gross was that?

When the driver pulled up to her place she shoved a wad of cash at him and apologized for being so rude. She hoped the giant tip made up for it, but she didn’t have the energy to say much more.

Tears tracked down her face, nearly blinding her as she hurried toward her front door. She froze at the sound of a bullet being chambered. While she might not use weapons, almost every shifter had knowledge of guns and knives. And she knew that sound. Standing on the bottom stair that led to her front door, she slowly turned around and tried to ignore the icy chill slithering through her veins.

Troy was standing there and he had a gun pointed right at her face.

• • •

Hector felt like he was going to vomit right on the floor of the bar. He wiped his mouth, as if that could somehow erase the feel and taste of that drunk human’s lips on his. He’d cut her off earlier, but she must have been sneaking drinks, so when he’d tried to kick her out, she’d literally thrown herself at him.

If she’d been a shifter, he’d have thrown her ass across the bar, but she was human and they were so damn fragile. He’d still shoved her off of him, but not soon enough. Hector had heard of the effects of the mating call, but this was beyond what he’d expected. He actually felt physically ill after being fondled by the woman.

Jax, one of the female bouncers, gripped the human female’s arm, mainly to keep her standing upright. “I’m going to get her into a cab.”

“She’s banned for life,” Hector growled. “I’ve already got a copy of her ID.”

“Hector, that’s kinda harsh,” Jax said almost admonishingly.

“What would you do if someone kissed and groped you against your will?” None of the females in the bar would put up with that shit. He wouldn’t either. “I’m not Saul,” he added as an afterthought, because that male probably would have liked it.

Jax nodded once in approval. “If someone did that to me they wouldn’t be walking for a week.” She propelled the woman toward the door. “Did you hear that, honey? Banned for life.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face in time to see Saul striding through the bar looking pissed. Hector’s eyes widened when he realized the lupine shifter was stalking toward him like he was prey.

Barely dodging the other shifter’s fist when he took a swing, Hector ducked down and put some distance between them. The music quieted and the dance floor cleared as Saul turned to face him.

“What the hell, Saul?”

The lupine shifter’s hands were balled into fists and his wolf was crystal clear in his gaze. “You can’t treat Daphne like that.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“She saw you kissing that woman and she deserves better than that.” Saul growled deep in his throat, the first time Hector had ever seen him truly pissed about anything.

Fuck. “That female kissed me and she’s now banned for life. I didn’t want that shit and . . . I don’t need to explain myself to you. Where the hell is Daphne?”

Some of the tension fled Saul’s body as he shrugged. “She ran off and got into a cab.”

Hector’s heart beat wildly in his chest. Daphne was out there alone? There was still a threat against her. Angus had tracked down Troy’s maker—a young punk who had no business turning unstable humans into vamps—but they hadn’t been able to find Troy. The guy had gone underground, but it was only a matter of time before he came after Daphne again.

Hector pulled out his phone and dialed her cell. It went to voice mail after a couple rings, meaning she’d likely ignored the call. Cursing, he looked at Saul who was still watching him warily. “You’re taking my shift tonight. I’m going to find Daphne. And for the record, I would never hurt her. I’m going to mate her if she’ll have me.” He said it loud enough for the entire bar to hear before he raced outside. Right now he didn’t give a shit about anyone but Daphne. If she actually thought he’d cheated on her . . . His inner jaguar clawed at his insides, telling him to make this right. He should have made his intentions clear earlier, but she’d had so much shit piled on her plate and they’d had literally no privacy. But mainly, his feelings for her were damn powerful and almost overwhelming. He didn’t want to scare her into running from him.

As he jogged toward his bike, he tried calling her again multiple times, but it kept going to voicemail. Jumping on his bike, he tried to think of where she’d go. The mansion was a no-go. She was likely pissed and hurt right now. She wouldn’t want to be surrounded by her packmates. And she wouldn’t go to Leta’s because that was his sister. Gunning the engine, he tore out into traffic. It could be the wrong guess, but he had to start somewhere. She hadn’t been back to her place since it had been cleaned up.

He had to find her. To make this right. He refused to let a misunderstanding rip them apart. His jaguar was snarling and urging him to go faster. Breaking a dozen traffic laws, he made it to her street in less than five minutes. As his bike roared up to her place, he lost a decade of his life as he saw the vamp Troy pointing a gun at Daphne.

No doubt it had silver bullets. If she’d been a little older, she might survive a direct shot to the head. But she was still growing in strength and if the silver got in her bloodstream—his jaguar clawed, taking over before Hector could think about maintaining control.

His bones broke, ligaments snapped and everything realigned as fur replaced skin in milliseconds. He’d never shifted that fast. He’d also never cared about anyone the way he did about Daphne.

The vamp turned at the sound of his snarled cry, moving the gun away from Daphne’s body. Hector saw her duck and kick out at the vamp, slamming her boot into his stomach with a vicious blow.

Everything happened in slow motion. Troy stumbled back, his gun-toting hand wavering about wildly. Daphne made a move to attack the vamp again, but Hector was faster.

And this kill was his. Using all the strength in his hind legs, he launched himself through the air. His paws slammed into Troy’s chest. The gun flew out of the vamp’s hand and his claws came out. Vamp claws were sharp and just as deadly as shifters’. The vamp clawed at Hector’s face and tried to dig into his side, but Hector was ending this before it started.