Accepting My Twin Mates by Unwise Owl
Chapter 118
Chapter 115 – Chase?
Astennu
As soon as the gunshot rang, I had torn into the rogue that had leapt at me. He fought with ferocity and I could only hope he was not one of the wolves that was fighting for his family. While I had won, Aasim and I hadn’t come out unscathed. The wolf had caught us in our shoulder with his claw; a small injury, but deep. And with each and every movement, a lance of jarring pain shot through the muscles of my left shoulder.
All of my pain was forgotten the moment Aasim and I felt the coursing fire flow in our veins and yet my wolf remained intact. I had known the instant Badru had been hit with wolfsbane and for a split second, Aasim was thrown for a loop, unable to feel his twin. This is exactly what I feared, that he would throw himself in the line of fire and he had quite literally done just that. But our mate was looking out for him out of the corner of my eye. Nothing felt amiss with our pup, so I had to trust that she knew what she was doing. And with her in her lycan wolf form, I had less to worry about with regards to hers, her father’s and my brother’s safety.
As we threw down another opponent, we sensed another at our back. As their jaws opened to snap at the nape of our neck, an almighty bang rattled the wolf and a weeping hole slung their dead body sideways.
‘Don’t worry. I got your back, pookie,’ a teasing voice prodded.
‘When we’re done here, I’m killing you next, Adrian!’
‘Love you too, doodle-bug.’
Catalina’s wolf had dragged her mate off to the side and out of the fray and was busy helping the four conscious vampires move their comrades out of harm’s way. All that stood in the path of them and the four circling wolves was Bastiaan, favouring his right leg as his left pant leg glistened under the moonlight, steeped in blood. Gashes swept up his exposed ribs, painting his torso in the metallic crimson that stained the air with its bitter taste and scent.
As he carved his large knife towards one wolf, his high sweeping arc left him open on one side to another. Aasim and I surged forward before the attacker could lock their jaw down and we grasped him between our own teeth, capturing him in a roll and flinging them clear across the clearing into a protruding rock. Bastiaan gave me an appreciative nod, the two of us facing a slightly more equal match to a pair of wolves who barked and snarled their threats, masking their injuries as best they could. But in the chaos that had ensued, I had lost track of which wolves were Marceau’s men and who were being forced into the conflict.
‘I think it’s a safe bet that the ones gunning for our jugular actively want to fight for the chelb (dog),’ Aasim asserted, throwing a lunging wolf by their front paw into the swiping curvature of Bastiaan blade. ‘So we’ll start there and work our way through them.’
I had never fought alongside a vampire before but our movements together felt fluid, almost as though it were Badru at our side for how deftly he read my actions. A small group of five wolves had kept back, reluctant to fight but issuing the odd snap or bark of threat. Their heads jerked and twitched, fighting the innate instinct to bare their necks in submission to us under the watch of the man that held their fate.
shifted and their attention shifted to the blond wolf bursting through its once
had never seen his wolf form or had any clue about his skill. The man was large in his
of Alpha strength and raw power. He had the advantage of maturity and age.
lips of his wolf lifted and peeled back in a roaring snarl, his jaws snapping
his ribs with a crack, the shock impact travelling down our spine. He rolled several times, putting space between him and the rogues I blocked him from. I circled, hiding the nettling sting of the puncture wound to my left shoulder and keeping his path blocked, maintaining his focus on no one but my midnight
dripping from his muzzle. The thick, ropey muscles of
low at our chest to go for the kill. All he got was a mouth full of our dense fur, but it was enough to send the two of us sprawling and tumbling into the snow. White powder,
a punishing blow to him that was starting to take effect. His breathing ruckled and gargled, blood filling his right
hear the snapping and cracking of a shift, a grunting whimper following with it. I took it as a wolf somewhere behind me tending their wounds, but I couldn’t turn my attention away from the
roar, one that dwarfed Evie’s. The mountainside descended into a disturbing silence, one that sucked
Marceau to freeze. I hazarded a poorly chosen glance over my shoulder to meet the immense and intimidating lycan
excitement pinching him at the chance
and ran, careening down the alternating slopes of the
Konstantin barked, setting
hunt the wolf down. In any other pursuit, I would have gained ground quickly. However, between my injuries and exhaustion, they were taking a toll and making their presence known. At my back, I could feel the heavy thuds of Konstantin following, but unable to meet the speed needed
blood painted Marceau’s trail. With his punctured lung and gaping slashes born of our claws, he wasn’t getting far or evading our hunt. Skidding down the path carved
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