Chapter 161
Chapter 161
A canine head lifted at her cry, ears pricked, tongue lolling, eyes wild with hunting frenzy. It broke away from the mass surrounding Amos and raced for Chloe. She struggled backwards, still holding Phillipe, trying to drag them both to deeper water. But the wolf was too fast and too strong. Chloe’s feet slipped over algae–slick rocks and soft sand as it closed in on her. Fangs flashed bright white in the moonlight.
Phillipe suddenly jerked out of Chloe’s hold. She flinched, instinctively raising her arms to shield herself from the wolf
The wet, tearing sound of tooth on flesh assaulted her ears, but the impact and pain never hit. She opened her eyes to see Phillipe’s wasted figure standing her front of her, hoarse snarls emanating from his throat as he grappled with the wolf.
He was losing–badly.
And then Amos was there, big hands closing on the wolf’s ruff, ripping him bodily away from Phillipe with terrifying ease. The wolf’s fangs had been closed on Phillipe’s throat, and they took a mass of blood and gristle and bone with them.
Chloe cried out as she caught Phillipe’s limp body. His head lolled back, long, snarled hair floating in the water. His throat was an unsalvageable pulp. Blood flowed into the water, a rapidly spreading dark stain.
“Are you alright?” Amos demanded.
Chloe looked up at him. His face was covered in a red mask of blood. As always happened in emergencies, cool detachment made her emotions remote, her reactions measured. “I’m alright,” she answered.
“Stay in the water,” he ordered, spinning away from her. In a flash of speed, he was back on the shoreline, taking on the wolves.
There were still too many of them. None had been injured enough to remove them from the fight. Eventually, their sheer numbers would prevail over Amos’s strength. Chloe held onto Phillipe’s cold, motionless body and watched. Her mind worked through scenarios methodically, searching for the best course of action.
They all ended in failure. In death.
But then a new snarl rent the air. A blur of motion burst through the trees and careened into the wolves like a missile. A cacophony of yelps greeted the newcomer, wolf bodies scattering to bowling pins.
And just like that, the tide of the fight had turned. Within seconds, Amos had the big copper she–wolf pinned to the beach, his hand poised to rip her throat out. The other wolves froze, attention focused on their apparent leader. The new ally went still, and Chloe’s eyes could finally recognize Etta, arm locked around one wolf’s neck, prepared to break it.
“I do not want to kill you,” Amos snarled, chest heaving, blood and saliva dripping from his mouth in thick ropes. “But I will do whatever it takes to protect my bloodmate. Do you fucking understand me? ”
One of the other wolves shifted into his human form, a man with the body mass of a Strongman champion. He fell to his knees arms spread wide. “Don’t kill her,” he begged hoarsely. “Kill me. But let her go p>
“I don’t want to kill ANYONE!” Amos roared, voice echoing off the trees and across the water.
The man flinched, but his gaze never wavered from Amos’s. “Then let her go p>
Amos’s hand visibly tightened on the wolf’s throat. The man made a pained, whining sound, body jerking forward instinctively. He checked himself at the last minute, recognizing the danger.
“Leave the city,” Amos growled, gaze scanning the crowd, holding eye contact with each and every wolf. “Leave the city and never return. If we meet again, I will be forced to kill you to protect my own. ”
Except for those trapped by Amos and Etta, and the man on his knees, the wolves edged back slowly, whines filling the air, ears pinned back, tongues. licking nervously at their snouts. When they had backed a suitable distance, Amos nodded to Etta. She released her wolf. He joined the rest of his pack with the same anxious body language.
Watchhorl Now I’m His – No Escape.
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Chapter 162
Amos turned his attention to the man. “I’ll need a demonstration of good faith. Join your fellows p>
Clearly anguished, the man shifted back into his wolf form and backed away, head low, hackles raised.
At last, Amos turned his attention to the copper she wolf beneath him. She stared up at him with transparent hatred.
“Don’t make me kill you.” Reluctantly, he released her, stepping back.
She rolled cautiously to her feet, keeping her gaze pinned on Amos. Slowly, she edged back to the rest of the wolves. When she was safely back amongst their number, the pack turned tail and fled.
As soon as they were out of sight, Chloe began struggling towards shore, dragging Phillipe’s dead weight. “Help!” she called weakly.
Amos was at her side instantly, hauling her off her feet with one arm, taking hold of Phillipe with the other. He carried Chloe to shore, towing Phillipe behind. Out of the water, he set Chloe on her feet and laid Phillipe out on the sand.
“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, both hands cupping Amos’s bloodied face.
“Well enough,” he answered, gaze pained as he looked her over. “And you p>
“Just cold.” She turned to Phillipe’s lifeless body and a choked sob rose in her throat. “He protected me,” she rasped, blinking as tears blurred her vision.
She sank to her knees beside Phillipe’s body, taking in the mess of his throat, the ravaged state of his body. But as she watched, a small bubble formed in the thick, pooling blood in his throat. She stiffened, then leaned closer. Another bubble formed and popped.
“He’s still breathing p>
Etta appeared at her side, leaning over Chloe’s shoulder to look at Phillipe. “He’s still alive. Just barely. He’s got minutes left—if that p>
“What can we do?” Chloe asked, hands itching to reach for medical tools that she didn’t have.
“We can let him go,” Etta said. “Or one of us can turn him p>
Amos stepped closer but didn’t say anything, his expression contemplative.
Etta shot Amos a meaningful glance. “I already have progeny p>
“I don’t want any progeny,” Amos said. “Let alone one of Markov’s line p>
“He saved your bloodmate,” Etta said plainly.
Amos looked to Chloe.
“Please,” she whispered. “Save him p>
Amos closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a breath. When he opened his eyes again, his bloodied expression was resigned. He went to Phillipe’s other side, sinking to his knees. Carefully, he turned the thrall’s head, first to one side, then the other, until a stretch of intact skin was revealed, just over the carotid artery. With none of the finesse he used with Chloe, Amos bent down and sank his fangs into Phillipe’s flesh.
Amos’s shoulders rose as he drank deeply. Phillipe’s eyes fluttered open, gaze wandering sightlessly, lips working soundlessly. His feet pedaled weakly, finding no purchase in the wet sand.
Amos pulled away for a moment, turning his head to wretch into the sand. “Good god, he tastes like he’s been fermenting in a sewer p>
ahharl Now I’m His – No Escape.
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Chapter 162
“He’s a starving, half–dead thrall,” Etta said dryly. “He wasn’t going to taste like Christmas dinner. ”
With a groan, Amos sank back down to continue drinking. Another deep pull, and Phillipe’s eyes fluttered shut again. His feet slowly stopped moving. His mouth fell open and slack.
One more deep draught from Amos, and Chloe sensed with a strange certainty that it was done. Enough blood had been taken to tip Phillipe into death.
Amos sat up, wiping his mouth.
“Now what?” Chloe asked nervously.
“It’ll take about a day before Amos’s venom revives him,” Etta answered as Amos got up and walked to the water. He crouched, cupping handfuls of water and bringing them to his mouth. He swished, gargled, and spit–and then started again.
After several rounds of rinsing his mouth, Amos came back. He stood next to Chloe, looking dispassionately down at Phillipe. Sighing, he bent and hefted Phillipe’s body up, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Phillipe’s emaciated arms draped limply down Amos’s back.
“Congratulations,” Amos said wryly to Chloe. “You’re a mother p>
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Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.