mywolfprotector (6 page)

Even though Marrok was not the king, he was an alpha of his own right. The men stared in admiration and respect at the awesome, but terrifying, picture Marrok made in full war paint, standing amongst the trees and rocky area of his homeland.

Stopping in front of the two men, he slowly stared at each one. With his red eyes glinting, he vowed, “The sun will not touch the dusty surface of this mesa without my reclaiming of my mate. May my ancestors that came before me join forces with the wolf inside of me this night, giving me the wisdom and guidance I need to have victory. If it takes the very shedding of every drop of blood within this dual-natured body, I will free her, and I will have her.”

His eyes met Alexander's blue ones and held. Some would consider it a challenge, but it was not how he meant it. Marrok waited out of respect for Alexander to acknowledge his words, which the other man did immediately, with a nod.

The guardians and braves inched forward, interested in hearing and seeing it all. Despite the

sheer number of werewolves around them, the area was completely silent. Although it was dark, the darkness was broken up by glowing eyes that ranged from black to golden-yellow. He ignored the others, his thoughts centered on what it would take to regain Taylor. Or vindicate her.

Marrok's voice was firm and filled with intent as he continued, “Do what you need to do when

you're in there, but know that for this night, I'm no longer guardian. I'm mate, and rescuing my mate is where my focus will be.”

“Agreed,” Alexander replied immediately, turning to survey those watching behind them.

Between the two packs, there were at least thirty. Some were already shifted into wolf form, while the others would go in human. Regardless of what form they were in, though, all would hear and

understand what needed to be done.

“Guardians, tonight when we storm that mesa we can't be sure of what we will find. I want the

ones in wolf form to move in first. Should you sense, hear, or smell something that isn't right, we need to know. For those of you still on two legs, protect your brothers and yourselves. You're the best, and I'd like to see all of you walk back out alive. Now, we go to war.”

Excitement spread through the waiting wolves. They were eager to avenge their own. The packs

moved out of their makeshift camp as one, Alexander, Alonzo, and Marrok in the lead. Their powerful bodies quickly made the ascent, their steps light as air. As they neared the man made entrance the wolves spread out, several of them quickly darting into its dark depths.

Without their supernatural sense of smell, they would not have discovered the doorway easily. It was hidden behind an outcropping of rust-brown rock, a ledge extending cleverly over the top. Marrok was certain that their were other entrances as well, but this was the one the other wolves had escaped from.

He eased silently within its dark depths, Alexander at his back. There were human guards

somewhere up ahead. The wolves were dispatching them quietly, the humans not realizing the danger until it was too late.

He walked down the rocky corridor, his tomahawk raised beside him. It was razor-sharp and

carefully honed from his years of care, and Marrok treasured the dangerous weapon. It was a family heirloom, passed down from father to son for generations. Until now, he'd never had reason to use it.

The fresh scent of blood was thick in the air as they came to a dead end. Two metal doors were set in the rocky walls, one on each side of them. “Half and half,” Alexander ordered, his voice nothing more than a mere whisper. The others nodded, even the ones in wolf form.

Marrok quietly pulled on the large handle of the door on his right. It opened easily, the hinges well-oiled. With one dark eye pressed into the crack, he quickly evaluated the room in front of them.

Easing the door closed, he turned back to Alonzo and Alexander.

“There is a large hallway and more rooms,” he murmured to the men. “It's lit artificially, but I didn't see anyone inside. I did see a camera mounted up near the ceiling, so the hallways must be monitored.”

“Could you scent other werewolves?” Alonzo asked, his expression intense.

“Their scents have been masked by a chemical, but I still picked up a trace. Many of our

brothers and sisters are here, as well as other supernaturals. The scent of death and pain is heavy in there, too strong to ever be covered up.”

“And your mate?” Alonzo pressed Marrok. “Could you scent her?”

Marrok nodded, his face grim. “She's here.” He didn't elaborate on it further.

“I'll take care of the camera,” Alonzo said, his voice firm. “The sooner we move, the better.”

Alexander spoke up. “The element of surprise won't last for long. Remember that. Strike hard,

and free our people as quick as possible. The more we have released, the better it will be for our victory.” He gestured for the team behind them and counted down with his fingers. At the fist they moved in immediately, a group storming each door.

The three men spread out across the stark hallway. Quick as a flash Alonzo leaped onto the

wall, his features partially turning into his wolf form. When he jumped back down, a thick, black cloth was wrapped completely around the lens of the camera on the wall.

Marrok separated from the group, moving quickly as he made his way to the stairwell. This

floor was empty, appearing to be a back-up area for the ill or injured. It was very similar to the human's hospital rooms.

Nothing deterred him. He'd go through every level of this hellhole if he had to. He wasn't

leaving without his mate.

Running into the stairwell, he inhaled deeply. In the distance, a woman screamed. The element

of surprise was over.

The scent of his mate was stronger in the stairwell. He ran up the metal steps, two at a time.

Yanking the next door open, he leaped into the hallway. An alarm immediately went off, the sound loud and irritating to his sensitive ears.

Three humans were standing around a computer, each of them wearing white lab coats. They

looked at the wild, savage man in front of them in horror and paled. One of them held a cup of coffee.

At the first sight of Marrok, he dropped it, the Styrofoam busting as coffee splattered everywhere.

“Help,” a younger male screeched, stumbling out of his chair and backing away. His body

shook with fear as he held his trembling hands up. “Please, don't hurt us.”

“Take one more step, and I'll split your skull,” Marrok ordered, his voice lethal. Moans of pain filled the air from the various rooms down the long hallway. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened to them. The three in front of him had willingly tortured innocent people. They didn't deserve any mercy.

“Taylor Moore,” he growled out, his dark eyes promising death. “Where is she?”

Another male lifted up a shaking hand and pointed down the hallway. “Six doors down, on the

right.”

They stood staring at him, their faces blanched with fear.
How dare they?
It angered him, the cries of the innocent adding to his rage. How many of their victims had stared at them with the same expressions they wore now, as they'd brutally tortured, then massacred them? His hand tightened on the wooden handle of his tomahawk. “Give me the keys, now.”

Fumbling in his pocket, he quickly handed them over. “Very good,” Marrok replied, his lips

parting into a savage grin. “Now bring me something to tie you up, unless you'd rather me just kill you and put you all out of your misery.”

The younger male opened up the bottom drawer of the desk next to him and pulled out a long

line of cord. Marrok didn't bother questioning what it was used for. In a facility like this, he imagined they liked to keep their instruments of torture close.

It took him less than a minute to tie them together, tightly. The terrified technicians wouldn't be going anywhere. With one last disgusted look, he sprinted off down the hallway.

An explosion rocked the entire facility, dust and grit from the ceiling spilling on the floor. The battle between humans and wolves was growing fierce. He didn't have much time. Stopping in front of a heavy metal door, he checked to make sure nobody was following. The hallway was clear, the

technicians sobbing in the distance.

His hands trembled as he searched for the right key. The scent of his mate was strong, although surprisingly free of fear. She was alive, and it was all that mattered to him.

In the space of less than twenty-four hours, his life had changed dramatically again. The grim, bleak future that had stretched before him was over. After thirty-one years, he was to be reunited with Taylor, the woman he believed he had lost forever.

It was humbling. It was awe-inspiring. His mate, and he was so close. Tears stung his eyes, but he quickly blinked them back. There would be time for that later. They weren't out of the woods, yet.

The key turned in the lock, as he shoved the door open. The tiny cell within was lit up, the

artificial lighting casting a sickly, greenish-glow over the solitary cot and metal toilet. Taylor was seated on the edge of the cot, her shoulders drooped as she stared at the ground. At the sound of his entrance, she slowly lifted her face to greet him.

“Hello, Marrok,” she told him, her voice flat and devoid of feeling. Her eyes were large,

luminous, and haunted as she swallowed before continuing, “I wondered if I would live long enough to see you again.”

Marrok's heart slammed within his rib cage, beating with enough force to rip through his chest.

His body was filled with anticipation, heat burning along his nerve endings. Every emotion he believed to be dead after discovering her gone came back to life with a vengeance.

His eyes were starved for her, devouring every inch of her frame. He immediately realized she

hadn't aged a day since the last time he'd seen her, not that it would have mattered if she had. A mating was for life, based on something much more significant than the outward effects of time. Once they joined, it would stop her aging process, regardless.

Had the night they spent together somehow slowed the ravages of time? Or had it been the

result of something far more sinister, instigated here within the halls of this research facility? They would know soon enough, he was certain the head pack doctor would be able to determine the cause of this unexplained phenomenon. He shoved it to the back of his mind to ponder on later.

“Taylor, come to me,” he ordered, glancing down the hallway again. It was still empty, but that could change at any moment. He wouldn't leave the doorway unguarded. Facilities like these were known to have all kinds of hidden tricks, and he couldn't risk the two of them getting locked in the cell by a computerized mechanism.

She sat still and unmoving on the bed, watching him but making no move to join him. Unease

ran through him. Although human, their initial contact that night so long ago would have worked on her as well. She would have felt his loss as keenly as he felt hers. Even right now, she should be experiencing the same overwhelming need to be close to him, to touch him.

Although still beautiful, her time in captivity had been hard on her. Her frame was smaller

underneath the clothing she wore. The long-sleeves and pants hid her skin, so he was unable to determine the extent of her injuries. They'd left her face alone, but who knew what tortures she'd gone through in the last several years?

He stared at her in concern. “I can't leave the door,” he explained, his eyes scanning for

anything to prevent it from closing. There was nothing, the room stripped of everything but the bare basics she would need. “Are you able to walk?”

She nodded her head and finally stood up. Walking to him, she kept her face pointed at the

ground. Her hair was like a pale waterfall as it swung down to her thighs. He sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. Had they decided to dissect her skull, they wouldn't have been able to do it with those thick locks in the way.

“Quickly,” he urged, watching her with a puzzled expression. He couldn't understand the delay.

He didn't sense any fear from her, despite his appearance. An Apache, in full war get-up, was known to bring the strongest men to their knees in terror, but it wasn't affecting her. For that, he was relieved.

Something was, though, and it was tearing him up alive.

She moved within reaching distance, and he grabbed hold of her hand to pull her close. “You're safe now, Taylor,” he said thickly, noticing how fragile her hand and frame was. Her pores were releasing an odd, sickly scent, so light he would have missed it had he been human. “I'm going to get you out of here.”

“Nicole is here,” she told him in a flat, low voice. “We can't leave without Nicole.”

“I won't leave her behind,” he assured his mate softly. With one arm wrapped gently around her, he stepped out into the hallway. His sensitive nose detected the scent of fire and smoke. It wasn't close, but that would change quickly. He needed to work fast. The floor was full of prisoners.

The stairway door slammed open. Alexander ran in, his pale skin covered in soot. He was

followed by two guardians, and they quickly ran over. Another explosion went off in the distance, immediately followed by gunfire. “The facility is going down,” Alexander said wryly. “As if you couldn't have guessed already.”

“I'm going to release the prisoners on this floor,” Marrok replied, pulling Taylor to the door across the hallway from hers. “We can't leave them behind.”

Alexander grabbed the keys from his hand and said pointedly, “You are going to get your mate

to safety. The other prisoners are mostly free. I'll release these.”

The other two guardians exchanged uneasy looks. “My Liege, we can't allow you to do this,”

one of them declared, his expression concerned. “You're our king. We can't let you place yourself in danger like this.”

Alexander grimaced and shot Marrok a grieved look. “The real truth is they are more afraid of