Page 79 of Beastly Armory

“Shit, move,” one of my captors says to the other. I’m chucked inside the back seat, groaning in torment as my shoulder hits the other door. The bullet isn’t too far in, if at all, but the hit burns. Doors slam and we jet off down the rain covered roads of Gnarled Pine.

If Livia lives… I’ll be okay.

If she dies, I’ll stay alive long enough to burn down this whole fucking city.

Lifting my arm makes the pain shoot down my nerves like fire, but I’m determined to throw myself from the moving car. Wherever these guys are taking me can’t be good.

“He’s moving back there,” the driver says to the passenger. Before I can snag the door handle and pull, the gaunt man, who has two deep scars slashed across his face, reaches around, and punches me. His red tattooed hand pulls back enough times that I memorize it… a bull. Two more hits to the temple and the sear in my shoulder, the throbbing in my head fades away. The devastating agony of losing my wife is all that remains as I drift from consciousness.

“Where are the weapons, Mr. Freidenberg?”

Pain is all I know as I become aware of my own existence. Sheer, utter anguish lives everywhere. Have I been set on fire? There’s a loud rumbling, some humming in my ears that’s almost deafening.

“The weapons. Where are they?”

A momentary release from the burning allows me to wake up more, but the reverberating groans lull on… It’s me. I’m making those sounds. Like a living, breathing entity embedded deep inside of me, the pain returns with a surging force. All I want to do is move into a more comfortable position, as if there is such a thing, but I’m bound.

“Mr. Freidenberg. You disappoint me.” Sharp stabs lash my back. Blinking, I take in my surroundings. Stone walls, weeping with moisture. My head and arms are locked within a black wooden stockade. Straps cross my feet, holding me to the base. Involuntarily, my naked body shivers with cold and the shock of pain.

“What?” My voice halts its moans to edge out the question.

“What? I told you not to bind yourself to another family, and you went and did it anyway. I told you to keep your businesses clean. And yet, they’re distributingweapons. And then you go and wreck those iron gates… I liked them. Oh, and my men, of course, too, I suppose. I’m disappointed in you for disobeying your master.”

Strauss. I recognize the way he makes his ‘t’ sounds like those of his old country.

“You’re not my master,” I say.

The rip in my skin that comes after takes my breath away. There’s no air for me to cry out, so my mouth opens in soundless suffering.

“I’m everyone’s master. Didn’t you know?” I can’t see him, but his voice resounds from behind me. Obviously, he’s using a whip, perhaps with something attached, as I feel my back being shredded, muscles and sinew exposed without any protection.

“You killed Derichs. You will die,” I somehow manage to grit out.

His laugh is as terrifying as the prospect of the next zing of the whip. When it hits, my knees buckle, and my bladder releases itself down my legs. The stings cause my stomach to lurch with nausea. Is it even possible to live with this much pain?

“It’s either you or her.” Strauss shows himself in front of me, grabbing me by the hair to lift my head in a tight grip. Leaning over, his gaunt cheeks poke sharply from his face as his lips lift into a broad smile. “You or Miss Von Dovish must die. That’s my payment. I mean, shewillreturn to a Von Dovish if you’re gone. I’ll make sure of it. And that there are no remnant cubs within her womb.”

“Me. Take me.” Gathering up what’s in the back ofmy throat, I launch blood into his face. His eyes crinkle into a smile as his tongue laps up some of my saliva that landed on his mouth.

“Unless…” He’s so close I can see the twitch in the muscles of his face as his grin falters. “Unless Arianna will agree to marry me.”

“Kill me.” As soon as I let the words fly, I regret them. Because if I’m gone, who will protect my wife and sister? Jakob? Calum? Markus? No. There’s no one. I have to get out of here.

But how?

Twenty

LIVIA

Aman with a black outfit and ski mask lifts me into his arms gently. “Max. Get Max.”

“We’re on it already. I need to get you out first, Mrs. Freidenberg.”

It must be his spy, Aries. There’s such comfort in hearing my new name and title, but it’s not enough. My other half is missing. “Help Max…” It’s all I repeat like a mantra. I’m not dying; I just need to get my jacket off and the burning would stop. The blackness overtakes me again as I pass out, no longer wanting to feel the pain.

My shoulder wedges against Aries’s broad chest. We sway together as he walks swiftly to a vehicle awaiting us down another alleyway nearby. “Help Max…” That’s what I say before I faint again, feeling the car jet toward the manor.

Jakob grabs me from the passenger’s side of the car when we get home. Aries murmurs something to him about Max as I grip Jakob’s thick neck tighter. He smellsof pine and peppermint, like my grandfather used to. Closing my eyes, I pretend I’m that little girl playing with him again, only to seek some comfort from the agony of losing my mate.