Trinity Bound (5 page)

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Authors: Carrie Ann Ryan

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

BOOK: Trinity Bound
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“I owned a potions and herb shop with my mother.” Her voice broke at that last part. Tears fell down her cheeks.

 

“Hannah, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

 

She bit her lip in her delectable way and shook her head.

 

“No, I need to tell you. I want to tell you.” She stared off into space, her mind on whatever memory haunted her dreams. “When Corbin’s men took me, they destroyed the shop. My mom and I were working that day. It wasn’t too busy so she told me to go in the back and mix up some more lotion for dry skin. She said she’d take care of the register and customers. If it got busier, or if someone needed me, she’d get me. I didn’t hear the door open from where I sat. I was too engrossed in what I was doing. It takes a lot of concentration to make a good potion and herb remedy. So I didn’t hear anything until I heard her scream.”

 

Reed held her closer, her heartbeat fast against his as tears ran faster down her face.

 

 “I ran to the front, not thinking of something that could hurt me. I just had to get to my mom. You know?”

 

Reed knew. That’s how he’d gotten here too.

 

“And then…” Her voice broke again, and Reed rubbed small circles on her back, trying to offer soothing comfort where there was none to give. “I didn’t see her, only a shadow, and a puddle of blood. But I knew. She was gone. And I had been in the back, not paying attention to what was going on.”

 

“Hannah, it wasn’t your fault.”

 

“But I could have helped her.”

 

“Hannah, they went there for a purpose.” Shit, wrong thing to say.

 

“Yeah, to find me. And they killed my mom for it.” Anger and despair swirled in her eyes.

 

Reed was at a loss of what to say—an uncommon occurrence for him. Usually, he was the one people came to for cheering up. He was the one with the words and pleasantries. Yet with his mate in his arms, he felt inadequate.

 

“It’s not your fault. It’s Corbin’s and Hector’s fault. They were the one who had those men come for you. They were the ones who took your mom away from you. There was nothing you could do.” She must have felt a hundred times more helpless than he felt at the moment.

 

“I know that. But it still doesn’t make it right. When I came out of the back room, I saw her and screamed. I didn’t use my powers. Shock, I guess. But I should have. Maybe then I would have gotten out of there. But no. They came for me and knocked me out. I don’t remember what happened after that. I woke up here, and then a couple of weeks or so later, you came too.”

 

Reed held her to his chest, trying to give her the strength she needed, knowing he was lacking. She stopped crying, exhausted emotionally as well as physically. A salty trail of tears remained on her cheeks. Reed wiped away their evidence with the pad of his thumb, taking in the softness of her skin.

 

“No matter what happens, I will find a way to kill him.” Reed’s voice deepened with a promise of vengeance. He sounded cold and calculating, unlike his normal self. But maybe like he was worth something.

 

“You’ll have to take a number and stand behind me. Because I plan on killing those bastards and dancing on their graves.”

 

His Hannah was a force to be reckoned with. Sexy. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling her honey and crisp apple scent.

 

“Reed?” Her soft voice tickled the faint hairs on his chest.

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

“Why do they want us?”

 

That was the question, wasn’t it? One he’d been contemplating since he woke here next to, but not touching, the sweet witch in his arms.

 

“I think they took you because you are a rare healing earth witch. You might be able to aid them somehow.”

 

“That’s what I thought. Odd to think a man so bent on pain would want a healer.”

 

“I’d try not to think about that too much,” Reed whispered as shivers racked Hannah’s body.

 

“But what about you?”

 

“I’m not really worth anything. I’m just a plain werewolf. It must just be for ransom. They could have taken any of my brothers and had their powers on hand. But no, they took me.” A nobody artist with no title. Just the blood of the Alpha running in his veins.

 

“Hey, that’s not true. You are worth something. You are powerful. I’ve seen you. Don’t count yourself short.” Her indignation at his self-deprecation was nothing short of cute. Wrong, but cute.

 

“I’m only an artist, Hannah. I’m the son of the Alpha, but I don’t have a title. I’m not really Alpha enough to be useful to the Centrals or even part of the Jamensons frankly. My brothers are so much more.”

 

“Reed Jamenson, this isn’t the time for a pity party.” She scowled at him, her bottom lip puffing out.

 

He looked at the stone walls with their chains and lack of light.

 

“Hannah, baby? This is the
perfect
time for a pity party.”

 

Their laughter mingled, boarding close to hysterical. Shit, they really needed to get out of here. Fast.

 

The metal door screeched open, bringing their laughter to a frightening halt. Without a word, Hector strode in, lifted his arm, and shot at the two of them.

 

A slight trickle of light bounced off the barrel of the gun a split second before Reed threw himself over Hannah. The deafening sound of a bullet leaving the chamber echoed off the walls. Reed flinched as the lead bullet tore through his flesh. He grunted but didn’t scream. No, Hannah was doing enough of that for both of them.

 

Hector shot again, the burning smell of acrid flesh as another bullet penetrated his skin stung his nostrils. Hannah called his name, but he bit his lip, holding back a groan of pain. He mustn’t show weakness. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue to stop from reacting.

 

Two more shots. Two more ringing after effects that made him want to vomit. Two more lead bullets mutilating his back. If it were Hannah in his place, she’d surely be dead. But he was a werewolf; he could withstand this. Hopefully.

 

Hector laughed, and Reed forced himself to turn to the evil sound.

 

The man lifted the gun and blew at the tip, as if smoke would resonate from it like in the olden days.

 

Sick bastard
.

 

Blood trailed down his back and seeped into his jeans and onto Hannah’s peasant skirt. He looked at his mate below him, wide-eyed but silent. She bit her lip but remained calm in his hold, giving him the strength to persevere and take whatever punishment Hector dealt from his whim of fancy.

 

“That was just a warning. I grew tired of the two of you mooning over each other. Fools. You really think you will live past this to quench those desires. No, you will not fuck each other like the crude instruments of fate you are. This is not a vacation or a honeymoon. You are my captives. I will cut you and beat you as I wish. And if I feel like it, I will rape the witch and make you watch.”

 

Hannah shuddered in his hold, and despite the blood loss, he did not relent his grip. That fucker wasn’t going to lay a paw on her.

 

“Your family will come for you, young Reed. They always come for those we take from them. Funny how they think they are the strongest and the best of the wolves. Arrogant pricks. They haven’t stopped us yet. They are too cowardly to truly embrace their power, and now they grow weak from it. Gluttoned and bloated on their own self-worth, they will die by my hand.”

 

Reed bit off a growl. He would enjoy slicing that vile tongue out of the bastard’s mouth.

 

“We may have gotten the wrong brother, but you will prove your worth to me. Or if not, it’s no worry. You will still be some form of entertainment. I will rape and then kill the witch in front of you. Then I will kill you. Slowly. It’s no matter.”

 

Hector pulled the gun up and shot Reed in the back once more. This time Hannah and he both let out a whimper.
Fuck that hurt
.

 

“Just for good measure. You know the drill.”

 

With a nod at the guards, the bastard walked out of the room, head held high.

 

As soon as the door slammed shut, Hannah pushed him off her. Reed groaned in pain at the contact.

 

Hannah knelt over him, pale and wide-eyed. Crimson blood painted her hands in a cruel landscape, and Reed felt horrible she had to witness and touch his weakness.

 

Her chestnut corkscrew hair cascaded around her face, her dove gray eyes imploring. She’d be a treasure to paint. A blank canvas promising a beauty of strokes and colors.

 

Okay, I might be reacting to the blood loss. Just saying.

 

He was getting a little loopy. But she was just so pretty. He could stare at her forever.

 

Hannah smiled down at him and caressed his cheek.

 

“You’re quite handsome yourself.”

 

Shit, he hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. Oh well, she was beautiful, no use in keeping in those thoughts.

 

Hannah bit her lip then turned him over to his stomach. He sucked in a breath, but held back a wince. He didn’t want to show any more weakness than he already had in front of his mate. The cool cement floor felt nice on his heated skin.

 

She took a shaky breath and placed her palms over the wounds on his back and chanted a calming melody. His skin stretched, and his wounds knitted together.

 

Warmth seeped through the pain, a tingling sensation more pronounced than when she’d healed his ribs before.

 

After a few minutes, she sighed, and Reed stole a look at her. Exhaustion crept over her features and her eyes drooped.

 

“Hannah, you need to stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

 

“I’m sorry, Reed. I’m just too far from the earth. You’ll need to heal the rest of it yourself.” She stroked his cheek. “Change.”

 

“You shouldn’t have shown the fullness of your powers. They’ll know now.” He nodded to the cameras.

 

Hannah lowered her head, and whispered, “You’re worth it.”

 

Humbled. Yes, that was the feeling warming his soul at the moment.

 

She laughed a sad laugh, then continued, “Plus, you lost so much blood, and if you died, the smell would’ve gotten to me eventually.”

 

He laughed then grunted in pain at the sickly holes in his flesh.

 

Hannah pulled him to a sitting position then went to the clasp of his jeans to help.

 

His cock hardened at her touch, and they both blushed. Well, as much as he could blush with the amount of blood he’d lost.

 

Neither of them said a word at his reaction, but he did smell a faint hint of her arousal.

 

Interesting.

 

Together, they stripped him of his jeans and boxer briefs. Though he could tell she tried not to, her gaze dropped to his cock.

 

Her cheeks reddened. She was embarrassed, aroused, and fucking sexy.

 

He crouched and looked into her gray eyes and changed.

 

Muscles tearing and forming, bones breaking and rearranging. He wanted to grunt in pain. Because of his numerous wounds, this was not the usual peaceful change. No, this was excruciating. At least the chains attached to his limbs and neck magically enhanced, to shrink and stretch, accommodating his new form.

 

As fur sprouted from his skin, covering his body, he also felt the wounds knit together, healing. And yes, that hurt just as well.

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