The wolves who had taken his seat away from his family on the Omegrion.

Oh, yes… this was about to get good.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Fang couldn’t breathe as he lay on the bed in wolf form. His branded shoulder was killing him. The mark burned in a way that made him want to tear his own arm off.

What is wrong with me?

The pain was excruciating as he pawed at the bed, trying to bury himself inside the white and blue quilt. Nothing eased the pain. No position or stretch.

Panting, he felt like his insides were being shredded. I’m giving birth to the alien in Alien… Every sound made was too loud for his ears. Every heartbeat tore through his skull.

He wanted to kill something.

The scent of blood hung in his nostrils, enticing him. Calling him…

If you kill the bears, you can take their powers and have Aimee.

He scowled at the foreign voice in his head. Was he losing his mind?

What did they really do for you? Nothing. They threw your brother out and left him to fend for himself and his mate. They don’t care about any of you. Pay them back for what they did to Vane and Wren.

Death to the bears…

Fang shook his head, trying to clear it of the hostile anger. What was wrong with him? He felt drunk as sounds echoed around him and his vision dimmed.

“Fang?”

He heard Aimee’s voice as she appeared in his room. She looked like a sugary morsel, standing in front of his dresser with the light shining in from the window to highlight her pale hair. The shadows played on her skin, cutting angles across her beautiful face. It reminded him of the way she’d looked the first time he’d seen her at Sanctuary.

But tonight, he didn’t want her kindness.

The demon inside wanted her blood.

“Go away,” he growled at her. He didn’t want to be around her while he felt like this. He didn’t have control of himself or the demon. It was growing larger and it was seeping through every part of him.

Violent and lethal, he was afraid of himself.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it off. May the gods help her if it broke free while she was with him. The hatred and desire to cause her pain was ever harsh and demanding.

Don’t let me hurt her…

But he wasn’t sure he could abide by that. The hunger inside him was too great.

Aimee hesitated at the feral sound of Fang’s tone in her head. Something was obviously wrong with him. Uncertain as to what it was, she moved closer and held her hand out to stroke his fur. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He turned on her and snapped at her hand as if he’d gone mad. One minute he was a wolf and in the next human.

He came off the bed, stalking her. Completely naked, his body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His cheeks were dusted by whiskers as his damp hair fell into his eyes. Every muscle of his tawny body was taut and corded as if he were pulling back from lashing out.

A new wave of fear consumed her as she backed up. There was a predatory gait to his walk. One that said he was assessing her as prey.

“Talk to me, Fang.”

“And say what?” He continued to advance on her until he’d pressed her against the wall and cocked his head. There was a light in his dark eyes that was truly scary. It was a light that warned her to be wary and one that told her this wasn’t the wolf she’d learned to love.

This was the one she’d seen that first day in Sanctuary. The feral wolf who terrified everyone.

He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply while he stroked her cheek with one hand. “I can already taste your blood.”

He sank his teeth into her flesh.

Hissing, Aimee knocked him back with a fierce blow to his solar plexus. “What are you doing?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him in a hold made of steel. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Your wolf to attack you?”

Aimee twisted out of his offensive grip. “Who are you?”

“I’m Fang, baby. Can’t you tell?”

No. This wasn’t Fang. There was something definitely wrong. He didn’t even smell right.

Then she saw it. The tiniest flash of red in his eyes. And in an instant, she knew what it was.

He was possessed.

“No…,” she breathed as terror consumed her.

Had something followed him back from the Nether Realm?

He tried to bite her again.

Aimee reacted on instinct. Kneeing him in the groin as hard as she could, she shoved him back. He stumbled away, cupping himself.

Please let it only be the demon feeling that and not Fang. Fang she wouldn’t hurt for anything. But the demon was a whole other story.

She stood over him, aching for his pain, but not enough that she would be his willing victim. “If you can hear me, Fang, I need you to push this away and come back to me.”

His eyes glowed bloodred in the darkness as he straightened up. Without responding at all, he grabbed her roughly.

Aimee whimpered in pain.

That single sound seemed to reach whatever part of the real Fang was still there. She saw the regret flash in his gaze as he released her.

Pure anguish contorted his features as he staggered back. “Run, Aimee. Get out!”

She hesitated, not wanting to leave him here. But she could tell he was holding on to himself by a narrow margin and doing his best not to hurt her. Staying here would only make it worse on him. “I’ll get help.”

His legs buckled an instant before he fell to the floor where he writhed as if in utter agony. He flashed back to his wolf’s form.

Aimee winced, desperate to soothe him.

But first she had to make sure he didn’t hurt her. Torn, she knew she had no choice but to leave. It was the best for both of them.

With no idea of what she should do, she flashed herself to Club Charonte-the dance club and bar that Xedrix and company had opened with her brother Kyle’s help. Surely a demon would know and be able to tell her how to help Fang with his current dilemma. She couldn’t think of anyone else who would have an inkling.

If Xedrix couldn’t help her, she didn’t know what she’d do.

The club was packed tonight with college students, young locals, and tourists dancing while demons moved through them as staff.

If the humans only knew…

But they weren’t what concerned her. Only Fang did.

Loud hip-hop music thundered through the club as lights flashed and danced across the people, demons, floor, and bar. The crowd mingled all around her in couples or in groups while the demons tried to blend in. A few did have their horns showing, but the humans seemed to accept those as fake. Some of them were even showing their real mottled-colored skin, but again, the humans complimented them on the makeup.

Weird.

Aimee stopped a male Charonte with red horns and orange and red skin as he passed by her with an empty tray tucked under his arm. “Hey, where’s Xedrix?”

He gave her a suspicious once-over.

“I’m Kyle Peltier’s sister and I need to speak to him.”

That seemed to reassure him. He pressed the mic on his headset. “Xed, there’s a bear down here for you.” He nodded, then looked back at her. “He’s on his way.”

“Thank you.”

The demon wandered off toward the mirrored bar area.

She saw a door open from an upstairs room that must be the office. It had a mirrored window where Xedrix could no doubt look out and spy on his workers and patrons.

Dressed in jeans and a loose blue T-shirt, Xedrix made his way down the steps. Aimee had to give him credit. For a demon, he was damn good-looking. That lean body was ripped and his black hair framed near-perfect features.

But the dismal expression on his face was almost funny as he stopped by her side. “This can’t be good for me.”

“Nice seeing you too.”

“Yeah. What do you need now?”