Un.Wavering (Claimed Series Book 3) (27 page)

BOOK: Un.Wavering (Claimed Series Book 3)
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Reluctantly knowing it was necessary, yet not possessing nearly enough energy, Hayden slid off the puppet’s shoulder and rolled onto the ground. The man was quick, however, and grabbed her ankle. She growled in frustration and slammed her foot into the emotionless face of her attacker. And then again. And again.

But he simply did not relent.

A glint of silver caught her eye. She looked up, over the puppet’s head and into the tree above. The reflection of the sword cast everything behind it in shadow, though she knew the pale, angular face of the stalker belonged to Nicolas.

The Alpha male leaned forward, the movement subtle and silent, entirely predacious. His eyes focused intently on Celeste’s puppet, watching it with single-minded ferocity. He looked every bit the predator as he watched his prey, his form stiff and poised.

Seeing his opportune moment, Nicolas descended stealthily from the trees. With the sword raised, he slashed it down and beheaded the puppet in one clean motion.

Hayden voiced her distaste as blood showered her face and chest. She quickly avoided the head with her knee, though somehow, even in death, the puppet kept a firm grip around her ankle.

There was so much death, so much blood and despair.

Something snapped within Hayden and she found herself pulling away from the dead corpse and her savior. Trying to tap into her canine’s abilities, Hayden pulled as much speed as she could from her mourning counterpart.

Though her wolf was drowning in just as much emotional anguish, she leant Hayden enough power to
run.
They both wanted the same thing. They were both desperate to put that place of loss far behind them.

She raced through the trees, her feet barely skimming the snow and never making a sound. Her pulse beat crazily in her chest, making it difficult to breathe past the rising panic. She didn’t dare look behind her, though every instinct debated about going back and seeing Cole’s fallen body for herself.


Hayden
.” Nicolas followed behind her, easily matching her speed and never once losing sight of her. “You will stop
now.

He did not yell it, he did not have to. Sheer authority laced his order, carrying with it a strong Alpha influence she’d hadn’t experienced for quite some time. The blatant command was enough to slow her limbs and eventually make her stop.

She was far too gone, far too weak to fight off his mental push. Just
thinking
of fighting his order made her knees heavy and her head hang low.

Nicolas stopped across from her, silently observing her. His face was as unemotional as ever, yet his pale eyes glimmered with cruel aggression. Through lowered lashes, Hayden instantly took notice of the large abrasion on his face.

The cut was severe, most likely caused by a silver blade. The open wound ran the length of his high cheekbone, painting half his face with a thick curtain of blood. Despite the obvious silver poisoning, he didn’t seem affected by it. He stood tall, his broad shoulders thrown back and his very aura radiating authority.

She wanted to fall to her knees before him, to bask in his strength and absorb it for herself. Despite his frightening and cold countenance, she wanted his shelter.

Instead, she buried her face in her hands and cried. She’d been so strong these past few days. Discovering dark secrets and accepting burdens had finally taken their toll on her. Without Cole… without sharing his strength with her, Hayden felt utterly alone and vulnerable.

“Cole,” she gasped out in despair. “He’s… he’s gone?”

Hayden didn’t expect his response. She knew it to be true. Nonetheless, she raised her head from her hands, trying to blink past the tears to see him properly.

Something dark passed behind Nicolas’ eyes, but a moment later, it was gone. He released a slow, hissing breath and took a step closer to Hayden. He reached for her, his fingers curling gently around her wrist.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. To most, his grief was invisible, but to those who knew him well, Cole’s death surrounded him like a heavy blanket. If possible, he seemed colder, far more untamed than before.

And yet, he surprised her with an act so unexpectedly gentle and pure. He tugged on her wrist and caught her trembling figure against his chest. Solid, protective arms encircled her and pressed her against his strength.

A large hand engulfed the back of her head and buried her underneath his chin. He nuzzled her momentarily before resting his unharmed cheek on top her head.

His breathing hitched. “I was too slow, Hayden. We both were.”

It was difficult to swallow past the dry, heavy lump in her throat. She felt no qualms leaning into him and accepting the comfort he offered.

“I don’t know if I can live,” she confessed, her voice raw. “Not without him.” In response to her defeat, his arms tightened protectively.

“Oh
my
,” a cultivated voice exclaimed pleasantly. “I never thought I’d see the day when Nicolas Slayter expressed anything but cold indifference. Clearly, my assumptions were incorrect.”

An imaginary switch turned on inside Nicolas, for his entire demeanor shifted and turned aggressive. His raw emotion cooled into focused and quiet rage. Indestructible strength replaced whatever weakness he’d expressed with Hayden.

Nicolas roughly took possession of Hayden’s arm, forcing her behind him. He kept a dominant hand curled around her arm, keeping her down and out of the way. Around his leg, Hayden stared at the intruder, shock turning her cold.

Within the shelter of the surrounding trees, Celeste stood like a Greek goddess. Her pale, soft skin radiated in the dim woods, drawing the eye to her flawless features. Green eyes glittered mischievously as they observed Nicolas’ protective stance. 

“You are such a thorn in my side,” she whispered to Nicolas. “I’ve never encountered someone more challenging to kill. It was rather impressive at first, but now I just find it bothersome.”

Her eyes then fell on Hayden.

Nicolas tightened his hold, pushing Hayden further behind him. “You don’t want to do this,” the Alpha male stated quietly. “I will bring hell and destruction down upon you if you lay a hand on her.”

Celeste smiled and placed a hand against her chest. “That instinctive male trait to protect a helpless female always brings a flutter to my heart. Very endearing, Nicolas, but your threat is empty.”

“Empty,” Nicolas repeated, matching her smile with one of his own. Only, it was sinister and entirely forbidding. “I know ways to cripple you like no one else. I will execute every mean possible to destroy you from the inside out.”

The redheaded woman found only amusement in Nicolas’ cold words. Clearly, she didn’t take him seriously.

“If I wasn’t so confident with your imminent destruction tonight, I
might
just feel a shiver of trepidation at your threat.” She tilted her head casually and a shadowy figure stepped next to her. “Be that as it may, I have come prepared and your death is promised.”

Hayden stiffened with stark fear as Nolan, one of Celeste’s prized Carriers, stopped next to his mistress. He was the man who single-handedly took down Cole and snapped her neck. The man was a brute, easily dwarfing Nicolas’ impressive stature.

To make the situation grimmer, a few stray puppets crowded behind Celeste and Nolan, their lifeless eyes watching Nicolas and Hayden and awaiting orders.

Suddenly, Nicolas scoffed, the sound oddly amused despite the grim situation. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You truly don’t understand the power I wield. Your decision is a poor one.”

“Your strength is of no matter when it’s your suffocating arrogance I understand. It will be the death of you.” Green eyes narrowed. “Kill him. Take the girl.”

Nicolas’ hand clenched and unclenched around Hayden’s arm. He squeezed it, perhaps in warning, perhaps in reassurance. A moment later, he dropped his hold and crouched, preparing for Nolan’s advance.

Hayden sunk her fingers into the snow, her world spinning crazily.

She was going to lose Nicolas. Just like Cole, he’d fight to protect her, but he would find himself outnumbered. He’d fight tooth and nail against death, it was his nature, but in the end, he’d have no other option but to succumb.

Somehow, that thought—the notion of her caring so much for Nicolas and his safety— terrified her into paralysis.

She watched as the puppets advanced robotically.

Despite all her training, despite all her dominance, nothing could properly prepare her for a situation like this. Cole’s death left her empty, drained. She had absolutely no willpower to stand tall and defend herself alongside Nicolas.

She’d become what she always feared to be.

Vulnerable. Defenseless. Submissive.

Behind her, the air shifted, instantly drawing her attention. The blond-haired Carrier was a mere blur, and as silent as a shadow as he passed her. But she saw him perfectly, and she knew his intentions as soon as he sprinted towards Nicolas’ turned back.

He had a blade in hand, poised mere inches from an unware Nicolas.

Hayden reacted without thinking.

She threw a knife, the sleek weapon cutting through the air with deadly accuracy. The blond-haired Carrier, Evan, heard the knife in time to turn around, but did not move quick enough to avoid it.

It embedded in his eye and he howled in sheer agony, dropping his own blade and abandoning his intentions of eliminating Nicolas. He clutched the throwing knife in his eye, somehow trying to ease the pain.

Nicolas whirled around, his attention jumping from Evan’s fallen sword to the knife in his eye. Blue eyes then landed on Hayden. His expression was that of disbelief and renowned gratitude. His appreciation didn’t last long, however, as Nolan attacked and Evan recovered.

The blond-haired Carrier discarded his original plan of attacking Nicolas and settled his sights on Hayden. Where a silver knife imbedded into the eye would have killed any other werewolf, it only seemed to feed Evan’s bloodlust.

He’d survive. It would take more than a throwing knife to kill a Carrier.

In Tracer’s case, it would take a bullet to the head and later a complete decapitation.

She sat calmly, accepting the inevitable. A slow smirk curled her lips as Evan closed in, the knife still embedded. There was something morbidly amusing about a seething werewolf racing towards her with a blade protruding from his face.

A part of her also smiled because she finally saved Nicolas. Finally, after several times of him saving her, Hayden finally repaid her debts. Even surrounded by death and destruction, she managed to feel just a
small
lick of satisfaction.

Preening in her success, Hayden lifted her chin and accepted Evan’s attack. With the puppets enclosing around her, there was nothing to do but sit calmly and await her fate.

A strong blow to her head knocked her out.

Fortunately, that was all Evan could manage in his angry, red haze.

* * * *

There was a terrible pain in her head.

She woke in increments, the world blurry and indistinct. She was dimly aware of being carried and dragged from place to place. It was not Nicolas’ familiar presence that embraced her, but a presence full of malevolent hate.

There were moments she was aware of being in a moving vehicle. The jarring jerks made the pain in her head increase to intolerable levels. Because of the head injury she sustained, her ears rang, making it difficult to notice other sounds.

They didn’t drive long; at least, she didn’t think they did. All too soon, hands hoisted her over a shoulder and carried her jarringly through the night air. There were steps, she remembered. Each step a painful reminder of the increasing distance with Nicolas.

If he survived.

No.

He did survive. She could
feel
it.

Instead of exchanging emotions with Nicolas, like her crippling bond with Cole, Hayden simply felt presence. The bond had to be similar to what an Alpha shared with his pack members. A canine familial bond.

Or maybe there was no bond.

Maybe, in her desperate grief, she imagined feeling something that was not there.

With her eyes closed, and her mind nearly unconscious, she barely noticed when they descended underground. The air grew thicker and warmer, the smell entirely clinical and just as pungent with suffering as Troy Arnold’s home.

Eyes fluttering, she witnessed bits and pieces of her surroundings. With her body slung over a shoulder, the blood raced to her head and caused further discomfort to her pounding skull. Nonetheless, she strained her eyes to the side, taking in the unusual sight.

They passed many corridors, all twisting into dark, unseen depths. She could hear the moans, though, pain-filled and miserable moans. For a brief second, her eyes found a cell door, instantly noticing the limp hand curled next to the silver bars.

Hayden closed her eyes, her gut wrenching. When Nicolas and Hayden were in Nevada, she’d wondered what was in Celeste’s hideout.

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