But Ren possessed the only weapon that could take this Lykae down. Under her breath, she commanded in Romanian, “Hold.”
The hunters stilled.
As she took the Lykae’s measure, deciding the best strategy, his gaze remained riveted to her. Vibrations of power emanated from his towering body. She’d fought monsters for years, but she’d never had such an awareness of one’s strength.
The air between them crackled. Though she couldn’t make out his features under all that blood, she found his power—his very being—compelling. When shivers raced over her skin, she wondered if she was losing her mind.
His canines and claws lengthened, and his hands balled into fists—as if he was about to seize her.
Björn said in broken Romanian, “I can strike him from behind, boss.”
A human take a Lykae unawares? Not possible. In the same tongue, she answered under her breath, “Fuck right off, Björn. He’s mine. A monster dares to interrupt my wedding? He’ll feel the bite of my blade.” Her bespelled hunting knife was strapped in her thigh holster.
Björn stood down with a nod. The others awaited her next move. Normally she would incapacitate her opponent at once, but she wanted to know three things: where this male had come from, if he was connected to the newling pack, and how many more the circus should expect.
She also wouldn’t mind knowing why he focused only on her. “Do you speak English, stranger?”
His lids grew heavy, as if her voice was music to him. “Alive. You are . . . alive?”
She sighed. “Are any of us, truly?”
Guzmán, the Brazilian contortionist, snickered. Trish, the dancer from America, chuckled. Vanda looked fascinated by this stranger, her gaze wide with excitement.
The Lykae seemed not to notice anyone’s reactions.
Ren asked him, “Where have you come from?” Portal, forest, or village?
“You could be a dream.” His voice was deep and raspy, his accent a thick Scottish brogue. “The sweetest dream.” He spoke to her as if no one else existed. “Never seen anything so beautiful.”
His words sent a misguided jolt of exhilaration through her, but she wanted answers. “Were you with the newlings in the woods?” That pack had been making its way through the Cursed Forest for weeks, never varying its course toward the nearby populated valley. The circus had set up at the head of the valley, a last stand to protect the innocent humans who had no idea their lives were in jeopardy.
“Newlings?” The stranger looked even more confused. “Nay. I’ve come from . . . verra far away to reach you. I fought my way back to you, Kereny.” How did he know her name? With his accent, it sounded like Care-nay. “I told myself I only wanted to check on you. Make sure you were protected.” His gaze flicked in the direction of the woods and back. “You fucking are no’.”
“What is your interest in a mortal like me?”
“You are mine.” He hit his chest with a fist. “My mate.”
Her jaw slackened. “Mate?” He’s insane!
Jacob’s tension redoubled, and low murmurs broke out among the hunters.
How dare this beast degrade Ren in front of everyone! She was even more determined to vanquish him, adding him to her many victories.
“Aye. I’m taking you to my home in Louisiana.”
The gall! “And if I don’t wish to be taken?”
“Too bloody bad.” He inhaled deeply, as if to suppress his temper. “You are no’ safe so close to a forest like this one. I alone can protect you.” His gaze slid to her new husband. Jealousy seethed from the wolf as he growled, “She belongs to me.” He looked like he wanted to rip Jacob apart.
Question time was over. “Wolf! Eyes on me. Now.” Usually her tone of authority made people jump to obey her.
The Lykae never averted his predator’s eyes from Jacob, just went eerily still, every sinew in his body coiled to spring.
“I won’t tell you again”—she clapped her hands—“eyes on your mate.”
The wolf blinked as if he’d awakened from a daze, then returned his attention to her.
“That’s better.” She feigned a seductive smile, determined to hold his interest until she reached her knife. A seasoned performer, she could play everything from an innocent lure to a provocative femme fatale. She decided on the latter now.
“If I’m your fated one,” she purred, “then you should get a taste of what I’m like.” She bent forward, grasping the hem of her gown. She eased the material past her slippers, past her calves, closer to her thigh holster.
For her knife-throwing act, she wore daring costumes, so she kept her legs smooth. The Lykae appeared very appreciative of the view, his lips parting, his blue eyes ablaze with lust.
His fascination with her body brought on a heady mix of fear and thrill. But when her fingertips brushed her knife handle, focus suffused her. In a throaty voice, she asked, “Will you have more from me?”
His brows drew together as if she’d given him an agony of pleasure. He seemed helpless not to nod.
He never saw the dagger she threw until the hilt protruded from his chest. Bull’s-eye. Right in the heart.
She cast him a cocky wink. “Got you.”
He scowled at the knife. Snatched it free and tossed it aside. “Joke? You ken what I am.” He frowned when his legs grew unsteady. “Takes more than a splinter . . . to fell . . . a Lykae.”
“That’s why my blade is bespelled to knock you unconscious.” Passed down through her mother’s line, the knife would incapacitate an immortal for hours.
Body quaking, he rasped in bafflement, “Kereny?” Care-nay?
“I don’t mate with your kind; I hunt them. We all do. And we’re quite good at it.” She knew her expression was pitiless. “Cheers to the end of your life, monster. You will never wake up again.”
Disbelief clear on his face, he collapsed to his knees. When he failed to rise, he threw back his head and bellowed with frustration—a gut-wrenching, earsplitting roar to end all roars.
It pained her ears and hit her stomach like percussion. Outside, the lions roared alongside him, the bears growling their upset. The corralled horses neighed with fear.
Shoulders sagging, he finally fell silent. He shot her one last betrayed look, then crashed backward in a cloud of sawdust.
Out cold.
She and Jacob traded an uneasy glance. The hunters’ gazes darted. These were brave women and men, but that primal sound must’ve awakened the entire forest. Would it bring the newlings early?