Page 8 of Midnight Bond (Wolves of Midnight #5)

As his grip on me weakened, he grunted in annoyance and turned sharply. My head thwacked against the wall, making me see stars. Before I could recover, he was down the stairs and stepping over my dad on his way toward the door.

“You’re not taking her!” my mom shrieked, stumbling forward to beat at the man with her small fists. Barely pausing, he swept an arm out and knocked her back. I screamed as she fell hard and hit the back of her head.

The front door suddenly exploded open, banging sharply against the wall. Still staring at my mom’s prone form, I didn’t see who it was. But as the burly orderly stiffened, I caught a scent, one that immediately made my body light up in recognition.

“Let her go. Now.”

At the sound of Jagger’s deep voice, goosebumps erupted over my flesh.

The male’s hold on me tightened even more. “Step aside, sir. She’s none of your concern.”

“Oh, she most definitely is,” Jagger said, his tone deathly quiet. “You have two choices. Release her and face a swift death, or defy me and die painfully.”

Despite the excruciating pain I was in, I blinked in surprise at his words. Whatever the orderly decided, he was dead meat.

A loud commotion from upstairs interrupted the tense moment, the second orderly and my brothers bringing the fight into the hallway. The man holding me took advantage of the distraction and burst into action.

One second, he was barreling toward Jagger, and the next, stopping dead in his tracks.

I slammed into his back and nearly slipped from his shoulder, confused when he started to rise into the air.

The awful choking noises he made clued me in to what was happening.

Jagger had him by the throat and was lifting him into the air. Rather, both of us.

As the burly male flailed in Jagger’s grip, he finally let go of me. The action tipped me sideways, and I began to fall, my shackled arms unable to brace me. Before I could hit the floor, a strong arm snagged my waist and set me upright.

Still flailing, the orderly tried to grab me again.

Jagger caught his hand and savagely twisted it.

A sharp crack cleaved the air, and the man screamed in agony.

Struggling to stand, I stumbled sideways, and the other orderly made his move.

He lumbered down the stairs far faster than a man his size should be capable of, beelining for the front door.

And me.

I tried to lurch out of the way, but my legs buckled beneath me.

With Jagger preoccupied with the other male, there was no one stopping the orderly from scooping me up and running out the door.

Expecting that very thing to happen, I blinked in surprise when he suddenly went flying.

About to be bowled over by him, I dropped to the ground just as he soared over me and crashed into the wall.

Two figures were suddenly surrounding me, forming a protective wall between me and the violent orderlies. Sawyer crouched down and tried to free my wrists, but it only made the pain ten times worse. The second a scream burst from me, an unearthly roar clapped the air.

Sawyer suddenly went airborne. He flew backward and struck the stair railing, crashing through the wooden slats like they were toothpicks. Jagger turned to Zeke next, his eyes blazing bright yellow.

“No!” I cried. “He’s my brother. Don’t hurt him!”

Confusion flitted across Jagger’s face. He paused to glance down at me, and the orderly he’d let go burst into action. Not to escape, but to attack Jagger from behind. Something in my eyes must have warned Jagger, because he whirled around and snapped the male’s thick neck in a dizzying blur.

As the light left his eyes and he crumpled to the floor, his companion picked himself up and charged out the door.

Both Jagger and Zeke looked ready to storm after him, but when a pained whimper escaped my lips, their attention shot back to me.

Seconds later, tires squealed as a vehicle peeled away from the curb.

Zeke started to kneel by my side, but Jagger barked, “Don’t touch her.”

My brother straightened, narrowing his eyes at Jagger suspiciously.

“It’s okay, Zeke,” I managed to say, blinking away dark spots from my vision. “Jagger is . . . a friend. Go check on Mom and Dad.”

He continued to eye Jagger suspiciously but didn’t stop him from approaching me.

“I think . . . it’s silver,” I gasped out as he crouched low to inspect my bound wrists.

The adrenaline high from the fight was already wearing off, making the pain feel like a raging inferno in my veins.

My vision tunneled even more, and I knew unconsciousness wasn’t far off. “You sh-should probably—”

He grasped the shackles with his bare hands and yanked them apart, freeing one of my wrists, then the other. The second the metal fell away, the fire in my veins began to cool. A relieved sob burst from me.

As I brought my tender wrists around to inspect them, he stood to his feet and offered me a hand. When I saw the angry blisters on his palm from his brief contact with the silver, I hesitated for a moment, then placed my hand in his and let him help me up.

Once on my feet, my knees immediately threatened to buckle, my body still embarrassingly weak. The second Jagger dropped my hand, I swayed, my vision completely flickering out this time. When I came to again, I was in someone’s arms.

In Jagger’s arms.

Without a word, he strode from the house and out into the night.

“Wait,” I faintly said, struggling to regain consciousness. “My parents . . .”

“Your parents are fine. Their heartbeats are strong.”

“But . . . that man. We can’t leave him here.”

“I’ll call Buck to take care of him. You’re my priority right now.”

Priority . . .

“Hey! Where are you taking her?” I heard Sawyer shout.

As feet pounded after us, Jagger whirled to face my brothers. “Home,” was all he said.

I didn’t understand why, but that one word loosened something in my chest. Looking at their faces lined in worry, I found myself saying to my brothers, “I’ll be fine. Just don’t call the police. Please. We’ll send someone to take care of everything.”

As Jagger started to turn again, Zeke called out, “I’m sorry.

” Jagger paused, allowing me to see my brother’s crestfallen expression.

He took a step toward us and pulled out my phone from his back pocket.

“You’re my little sister, and I should have better protected you. I’m sorry I let this happen.”

Jagger stiffened but didn’t stop him from handing me my phone. The second it was in my grasp, though, he whirled and left my brothers behind before I could respond.

“Jagger.”

Silence.

“My stuff . . .”

“I’ll send someone to collect your things tomorrow,” he replied in a clipped tone. “You’re never stepping foot in that house again.”

My mouth slowly fell open. Did he just .

. . ? No way. He wouldn’t dare. But it suddenly dawned on me why he was here right now.

He’d come to collect me. To drag me back to the Rivers’ estate—kicking and screaming if he had to.

If it weren’t for my recent injuries, I’d probably be over his shoulder.

This wasn’t any different from what that orderly had tried to do.

Realizing that this wasn’t a rescue at all but an abduction, anger sizzled through me. Clenching my teeth, I ground out, “Put me down.”

“No.”

Heat practically shot from my eyes as I gave him my best death glare. “Jagger, if you don’t put me down, I swear I’m going to—”

His arm beneath my legs abruptly dropped so that my feet hit the ground. Surprised that he’d listened to me, I didn’t react right away. Before I could collect myself, he opened the passenger side door of his gray Porsche and pushed me inside. It was a light push, but I tumbled inside all the same.

“Hey!” I protested, but he shut the door in my face.

Rage ignited inside me. My body all but burst into flames, raging hotter and hotter and hotter.

When he opened the driver side door and claimed the seat, I was ready to tear him a new one.

Just as I opened my mouth to give him a tongue lashing worthy of an Oscar, pain streaked through my body. A pain I knew all too well.

Terror gripped me, and all that emerged from my mouth was a little squeak.

Jagger glanced over and immediately spotted the fear on my face. He tensed, looking around as if he expected an attack. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . .”

His eyes focused on me again, and when I saw them flicker yellow, fresh pain ripped through my insides, stealing the breath from my lungs.

“Brielle.”

“I . . .”

“Brielle, speak to me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

That did it. The dominant tone. The faint worry line between his dark brows. The slightest hint of panic in his words . . .

“I . . . I think I’m starting to shift.”