Free Dark Wolf Rising (Bloodrunners) by Rhyannon Byrd Page A

definitely one of the Whiteclaw, the bald-headed giant standing at nearly seven feet tall and built like a friggin’ juggernaut. At six-five, Eric was used to towering over others, but the top of his head barely came to the Lycan’s chin. The guy looked like a juiced-up, ’roid-popping Spartan, hungry for blood.
    Huh. Had he actually thought his luck might be changing? Stupid. That fickle bastard would always turn around and bite him in the ass, doing its best to take him down. He could only be thankful it was still too early for the behemoth to take his animal form, which always added height and muscle to a Lycan’s physique. They could still release their fangs and claws before the rise of the moon, but both were strictly forbidden when near humans. Considering Chelsea was only a few feet away, Eric could only pray the bastard didn’t break protocol.
    Switching the knife to his other hand, the werewolf squeezed his right hand into a meaty fist and swung with more speed than Eric had been expecting. The punch connected with his jaw in a hit that could have easily sent him sprawling on his ass if he hadn’t crashed into the wall, which was a pal, keeping him on his feet.
    That was pathetic, he silently growled, pissed that he’d let the guy get in a shot. If Jeremy had been there, the Runner would already be laughing his ass off, mercilessly ribbing him for being such an idiot.
    Time to end this shit.
    The Lycan started to smirk, obviously thinking he was going to be an easy kill, and Eric brought his right leg around, knocking the knife from his hand and nailing the bastard in the ribs with a powerful sidekick. It doubled him over, but he quickly recovered, driving his shoulders into Eric’s middle like a linebacker making a tackle, knocking the wind from his lungs. They hit the floor with a crunching thud, each grappling for the upper hand, landing punches that would have killed a human. The guy might have been bigger, but Eric was faster and more experienced—not to mention better motivated. Within seconds, he had the Lycan pinned facedown on the floor, hands trapped against the small of his back, Eric’s right arm cinched tight around the male’s throat.
    “Where’s the nearest hidden exit?” he demanded. “Tell me how to find it.”
    “Doesn’t matter,” the Lycan wheezed, his deep voice gritty with pain. “You can’t win this. We’ll kill her before we let you keep her. That nosey little bitch needs to be put down.”
    A thick, guttural animal sound vibrated in his chest, and for a moment Eric couldn’t hear anything over the furious roar of his pulse pounding in his ears. His eyes narrowed with deadly purpose as he tightened his hold on the son of a bitch beneath him.
    “No one touches the woman,” he scraped out in a low, chilling voice, aware of something shifting inside him. Something feral and violent and savage that wanted the bastard’s blood—but it wasn’t his wolf. It was darker, deadlier, rising up from the depths of his being like a primordial beast surging up from the seething belly of an ancient, merciless god. His fangs burned in his gums, heavy and hot, while his claws seared beneath his fingertips, eager to draw a river of blood.
    Taking a deep breath, he could scent the Lycan’s fear in the air, and knew the male had sensed the darkness building inside him. Seeing through a red haze of rage, Eric lowered his mouth to the Lycan’s ear. “No one—not a single one of you gutter-slime assholes—is ever going to touch her,” he said in a soft, deadly slide of words. “Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes to see that she remains unharmed.”
    Then he curled his hand beneath the Lycan’s chin, jerked it around with a powerful yank, and made his warning a fact.

Chapter Five
    B linking her gritty eyes, Chelsea tried to focus her wavering gaze, but it wasn’t easy. Making it onto her hands and knees, she crawled a few steps forward, until she was able to peek around